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giannaln4 · 2 days ago

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Sorry Won't Fix This

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Lando makes the biggest mistake of his life, bigger than any apology, and you both hoped there was a way to fix it. Unfortunately, you both wished it at different times. (5.5k words)

warnings: angst, cheating, mentions of sex, manipulation, mede up characters, use of Y/N

a/n: I FINALLY WROTE MORE ANGST! This is a long one and I held nothing back. I really did try to make it as hurtful and dramatic as possible and ngl I was inspired by 'Don't worry darling' for a tiny part of this (you'll know when you read it) but anyway, this one does NOT have a happy ending so please let me know what you think!

Check out the original request here!

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You had a terrible feeling, but you were too scared to look into it, terrified you would be right.

Truth is, you started feeling like that just a few weeks ago, when you went back to Lando’s apartment to surprise him with lunch and found an empty room and the bed unmade from somebody sleeping on it. Any other day that would’ve been completely normal, but you had stayed with him the night before and made the bed as soon as you both got up to get ready for your separate plans for the day, leaving a perfectly made bed to come back to.

Before that day, you would’ve never in a million years thought that Lando would cheat on you. He had always been so loving and caring, even before you started dating, and once you officially became a thing, he would constantly remind you how much he loved you, and on special days he was the most romantic person ever, and you always thought that you would spend the rest of your life with him, but now... you didn’t want to think about it, but you couldn’t bury the thought of him with someone else after it crossed your mind briefly while looking at the messy bed.

Later that night you asked him about it, trying hard not to sound like you were accusing him of something, but his excuse just made you feel worse, your suspicions growing.

“What do you mean?” He asked as he inspected his bed, unsure of what was wrong with it.

“Well, you know, I made the bed this morning before we left, remember?”

“Oh, uh- yeah, I came back to- to take a nap,” he stuttered, not even looking at you.

But it kept happening, a few more times.

Things started to change after that; he cancelled the plans you made for when he came back home, he suddenly was too busy every day and your presence might be a distraction for all the things he had to get done for the next race, he was so tired at night he didn’t have the energy for anything, and he even asked you to go back to sleep in your own apartment, claiming he just needed to sleep on his own to be comfortable, even though you were used to sleeping together.

Long story short, he was distant; he was never around anymore, and even when he was, you felt like you were missing him. He was just... different, and you were beating herself up wondering what had changed.

He, on the other hand, didn’t miss you, seeing he didn’t make an effort anymore and he could go days without answering a text or returning a call, and it was not because you took a long time to reply; you would always respond in a heartbeat if it was him. If it weren’t for all the times you visited him at his apartment when a news outlet brought up that he was back in Monaco to make sure he was doing okay, you wouldn’t talk to each other at all.

But today you were feeling hopeful. It was your anniversary, and you had a date night planned — a date he didn’t cancel, so you took the entire afternoon to do your nails, your hair, and pick a beautiful dress to wear, his favourite dress. Your makeup took a while, but you still managed to be ready on time for the wonderful night you had ahead, so you made your way to him, your palms sweating when you knocked on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Was the first thing he asked, wiping her smile off of her face.

“I thought we would go out tonight,” you replied, looking down at your hands to hide your clear disappointment.

“Oh- I guess I forgot to tell you but I remembered I have an important meeting tomorrow morning, so I’m not gonna make it." The door was barely open, and he was standing where the crack was, blocking his apartment as he held the door with a strong grip.

“Okay,” your voice was so faint you barely heard it yourself. “Do you need anything? I could stay here for a couple of hours.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I think it’s better if you leave.”

Tears pricked your eyes, swallowing the small lump forming in your throat. “Why?”

“Well, I’m busy with a few things. You know, I have a really early day tomorrow, and you can’t really help me with a McLaren meeting, can you?”

You shook your head slowly “I guess I’m leaving then.”

The tears you had been holding started to fall as soon as you turned around; you could feel your mascara clumping on your eyelashes and forming black streaks down your cheeks, ruining the contour and highlight you applied in hopes of impressing your boyfriend. You ran back to your car and let it all out once you closed the door. You really thought things would be different tonight, but you were wrong.

You started driving to your best friend’s house, desperate to vent about how terrible your relationship was going since you had been keeping a secret from everyone; the last thing you needed was the media to get in the middle of this.

“Oh my god, Y/N. Are you okay?” Mia asked you when she saw the mascara tears.

You shook your head as you stepped inside, small whimpers leaving your lips as you tried to stop the crying.

“What happened?” She took your hand and guided you to the couch.

“Lando.”

“What about Lando?”

“I think he’s cheating on me." You had never said that out loud, and saying it broke your heart even more. “I wish I was crazy, but the signs... I know he is.”

“I’m not trying to defend him or anything, but what makes you think that?”

“Everything, Mia. He has been acting so... distant. Ever since-” You stopped yourself. You never told anyone your relationship with Lando wasn’t doing so well, making up excuses to cover his. You just wanted to hold on to everyone else’s idea of you two, thinking you were the perfect couple.

“What? Have you guys been fighting?”

You took a deep breath before saying, “Remember the last time I stayed over at his apartment?” She nodded in response, “Well, later that day I went back to surprise him with lunch, but he wasn’t there and the bed was a complete mess, and you know I always make the bed when I wake up. He said he went back to take a nap, but he was supposed to be with Carlos all morning, and it didn’t make sense he had time to come back, take a nap, and then leave again, so I asked Carlos, and they didn’t meet at all that day. Is that insane?”

"No, Y/N, of course not.” Mia didn’t know what to say; she wanted to comfort you but she didn’t know how. “And he’s been acting weird since then?”

You nodded, wiping your tears away. “Yeah, he’s been pushing me away since that day. Telling me he doesn’t have time because he’s so busy with the season, which I understand, but not even answering a couple of texts? And cancelling every date we had planned?”

“Is that what happened today? I thought it was your anniversary.”

“It is.” You were nibbling on your lip profusely, looking up so tears would stop falling. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“Have you told him how you feel?” You shook your head again; you hated confrontation, and you were hoping you didn’t have to do that. “I think you should go talk to him.”

“Right now?”

“If not now, then when? You say you’ve been feeling like something’s off for a while, but you haven’t said anything to him.”

“I don’t know Mia-”

“If he is cheating on you then you need to break up with him, you don’t deserve to be in that situation, and you deserve to know the truth.”

You inhaled as you considered what Mia just said. She was right, but to be completely honest, you weren’t ready yet. “I really want to know, but I can't.”

“Why not?”

“Because what if he is?” Tears started rolling down your face again, Mia hugging you tight as soon as it happened. “I love him, and... I just want things to go back to normal.”

“I know you do, but believe me, it’s better if you know.”

You stayed there for a while, but ultimately decided to go talk to him, but you needed to put yourself back together before confronting him. Mia helped you to wash your face and fix your hair, comforting you and offering to stay with you once the two of you were done talking. You accepted; you didn’t want to be alone, and Anne, your flatmate, had been going out of town a lot recently, so your apartment was empty, and you knew it’d be a long night.

Once you felt better and ready to talk to him, Mia drove you to his place as you repeated in your head everything you wanted to tell him. You knocked loudly and didn’t stop until he opened. He looked annoyed, and you stormed inside as soon as he opened the door.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to talk.”

“About what?”

You blinked at him twice. Did he not think you needed to talk? “About us, Lando. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Okay, now you were mad. “Lando, you have been ignoring me for days, and I understand if you’re busy, but it doesn’t explain you pushing me away at all times.”

“I’m sorry if you feel that way.”

There was a moment of silence, both of you staring at each other as you tried to remember the questions you were supposed to ask, but none of them seemed to make sense now that you were standing in front of him “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“How about you tell me exactly what’s going on?”

You were both raising your voices, but Lando especially. “I told you already, I’ve been busy with the season-”

“I could’ve stayed here with you or gone with you to races if that meant spending more time together, like we have done before.”

“But why would you want to do that?”

“To keep you company, maybe?”

“But all you do is stand around while I do my job.”

“Lando, do you know how many weeks I’ve spent away from home just so we can be together? And you don’t even care anymore, you didn’t even care to say thank you.”

“I never asked you to come,” he mumbled.

You scoffed before shaking your head. “I wanted to, you know I worry about you when you stress yourself out about a race, you tend to overwork yourself-”

“I. Never. Asked. You. To. Come." He interrupted you, his tone punctuated with each word. “I would’ve been fine without you, I don’t need you in my hair at all times." His eyes hardened, his mouth opening to speak again. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“I just- I’m your girlfriend, I guess I thought you liked to be with me.”

“I do, but you don’t have to be so clingy all the time.”

You didn’t say anything, hoping you heard it wrong or that he’d apologise, but he didn't. “What?”

“You know, we do everything together and-”

“No, we used to do things together, not everything." You corrected him.

He took a deep breath, as if he was done dealing with you. “Right. Look, I’m tired, we can talk tomorrow.”

You nodded, holding back the tears as you walked towards the door. “Happy anniversary,” you said before slamming it closed and running back to Mia’s car.

Lando sat on his couch with his head between his hands for a moment. How could he forget? He took a deep breath as he got up, looking for a ribbon and a gift he bought for you who knows how long ago.

He made his way to Mia’s flat; he assumed you would be there, and your car parked outside confirmed his suspicions, so he knocked on the door a couple of times before saying, “Baby, I’m sorry. I was caught up in all the things I have to do before leaving, and I didn’t realise what day it was." But he got no response. “Y/N please, I know you’re here. Will you please talk to me?”

“Go away, Lando.” Mia was the one to yell, making Lando realise he would not be able to fix it, not tonight anyway.

“Okay, I’m leaving this here. I- I love you.”

You called in sick for your job the next day, your sore eyes and pounding headache being the only things you could think about. Well, that and Lando.

You were staring at the gift he bought for your one-year anniversary — what you were supposed to celebrate the day before. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t believe he remembered you mentioning it on one of your first dates ever, but it was the letter inside that broke your heart. It looked... unfinished, like he didn’t even care enough to give it a proper ending, so you were wondering how long ago he stopped working on it.

The days after that were rough, long nights of wondering what you could have possibly done wrong, but even then you didn’t talk to him. He tried to, a couple of times, but you needed a little bit of time.

A couple of weeks went by, and you found yourself alone at your apartment, catching up on the work you missed for calling in sick so many times.

It was your birthday, and Mia insisted a million times you go out and celebrate, clear your head, and forget about Lando once in for all, but somehow it felt wrong; you had made plans with Lando a few months back to bring your family to a race so they could finally meet him, but obviously that wasn’t happening anymore, so what was the point of celebrating? You just needed to focus and get things done anyway.

You were thankful that Mia had been for you through it all; you really were, but sometimes crying alone did more for you than having someone tell you ‘everything's gonna be okay.' You were tired of hearing that.

Hours later, you found yourself with a cup of coffee to finally catch up on the last project. It wasn’t really that much of a workload, and you didn’t need to stay up all night to do that, but you were going to anyway. Perhaps you just wanted to be productive, or maybe that was you trying to occupy your mind from the possibility of your boyfriend cheating on you.

You looked at the clock; it was 11:30 PM. You sighed, typing away whatever you were supposed to on your laptop, your eyes sore from staring at it for too long, when a text message interrupted you.

Unknown [Attachment: 1 photo]

Unknown: I heard they have been at it for a while.

That text message induced such a great shock on your tired, worn-out body, tears falling down your face as soon as you read it. You didn’t want to open it as you were sure of what this was about, but your curiosity got the best of you.

Tapping on the notification, you prepared yourself mentally to confirm your terrible suspicions. And they were confirmed.

Your vision was blurry from the tears, but you were able to see Lando standing next to his new Ferrari, and he was with someone else, except you couldn’t see who it was, the big jacket and a beanie protecting her identity. He was smiling down at her, eyes full of... love? Those green eyes you thought he reserved for you only, but clearly you were wrong. His big hands were around her waist as hers went around his neck, and his lips were stained with lipstick.

You broke down crying, curled up on your bed as you wore one of Lando’s hoodies that still smelt like him. You now knew what the truth was, but you didn’t want to accept it. What happened to you two? When did he stop loving you?

It was like your heart was ripped from your chest; all that time you spent together down the drain like it was nothing, like it all meant nothing to him.

You didn’t know for how long you cried the night before, but it was now 1 PM and you were just waking up, so you probably cried for hours. There was nothing left you could do to save your relationship, so you made up your mind to break up with him as soon as he came back from the American triple header.

Y/N: We need to talk, just let me know when you’re here.

The message was left unanswered, as usual. You rolled your eyes and put your phone down, returning to your video call with Mia.

“Do you know who that is?”

“No, sorry.”

You sighed as you sipped your hot coffee “What about the number? Do you know who sent the picture?”

“What’s the number? Maybe I can ask around to see if any of my friends know.”

You sent her the phone number, along with the picture of Lando and the other girl. “Thanks. Don’t show anyone that picture thought. I’m already embarrassed as it is.”

“Embarrassed? Y/N, he should be the embarrassed one, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Maybe I did-”

“No, stop doing that to yourself. We both know it’s not your fault.”

You nodded. “I can’t help it. I just don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Was I not enough? Why did he need to find someone else?”

Mia hated to see you going through that, how you felt like you were not enough or that it all ended because of you, and she hated Lando for causing all of that. “I know it’s hard right now, but I promise you’ll understand that none of this is your fault. Y/N you’re amazing, and he’s an idiot for not realising.”

Talking to her made you feel better, but all those terrible emotions came back whenever you looked at the picture again, a million questions invading your mind. How long has he been doing this? Who is she? Does he still love you? What did you do wrong?

A couple of days later, Lando finally replied to your text.

Lando: Just got back. I’m in my apartment

Your heart sank at the notification; you didn’t want to talk to him; you didn’t want things to be over. There was still a part of you that hoped everything was just a misunderstanding, hoping he wasn’t cheating on you and she was just a friend. But deep down you knew the truth, and the possibility of it being a mix-up was down to zero, and after he made it clear that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore, you decided to fulfil his wishes.

It was a long drive to his home; it felt longer than usual, but maybe you were just dreading the conversation you knew was about to happen.

You took a deep breath before knocking on the door, Lando opening it almost right away.

"Hey,” he said faintly, worried he got caught.

“Hi.” You entered the apartment you once thought you would move into and looked around. You had been there a million times, and so many of those times were special little moments you shared together, but right now it felt like you were disconnected from the space. “How was the triple header?”

“Not great- I don’t know. It was messy, I guess." He tried to give you a smile but stopped himself when he noticed your stare full of fury. “What did you want to talk about?”

Seriously? “I’m breaking up with you." Your voice was weak, but you did not dare let a tear slip past your waterline; he didn’t deserve to see you cry.

“What?” The shock in his eyes looked so real that you almost believed him “Why?”

“Did you really just ask that?”

“So that’s it? We’re over?”

“Lando, come on, we’ve been over for a while." You stepped closer to him, pain and anger written all over your face as the tears struggled to stay on your eyes. “We didn’t even feel like a couple anymore. Lando, you forgot our anniversary, and that day you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me. And to think I planned a beautiful night for us and bought you a great gift. Do you have any idea how stupid I felt?”

“I didn’t know you were feeling like that.”

“Of course not, when have you ever listened to me anyway?”

Lando rolled his eyes “Okay, I understand, but we don’t have to break up, I already explained what happened that day, I was busy and completely lost track of time.”

“And I guess she doesn’t have anything to do with this?” You showed him the picture, his demeanour changing immediately.

“Y/N, I- I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry." His eyes and his voice softened as he tried to reach for you, but you turned around and wiped the tears that managed to leave your eyes, a million questions flooding your mind again.

“So it’s true." You were just confirming to yourself what you already knew. Anger and pain washed over your body. Why her? Why her when you’ve been nothing but perfect to the man you loved the most?

“Baby, I can explain.”

You turned around to face him again “Who is she?” He shook his head, his eyes begging you not to make him say it while yours watered, “Who is she?” You repeated.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Why? Cause I might find out you’re cheating?”

A few tears started to roll down his face, his hands desperate to hold yours. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you’re gonna hate me even more." You stared at him, even more tears falling as you tried to think who the girl could be.

“Did you two- did you sleep with her?” His nod was barely perceptible; if you didn’t already know the answer, you would’ve missed it. Maybe he was right; maybe it’d be better if you didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop it.”

“I know I fucked up, but she doesn’t mean anything to me, I swear.”

“Shut up, Lando. I just… I don’t understand.”

“Let me explain-”

“And I don’t care how many times you apologise, how do you expect me to forgive you?” You took a couple of steps back, trying to figure out what caused him to do such a thing. “Even if we stayed together and got married and started a family, how can I ever look at you and not think about that?”

"Baby, I want all of that, I want the rest of my life with you, like we talked.”

“That was before you ruined everything.”

“I know what i did is wrong-”

“Wrong?”

“But we can work this out.”

“What? No, Lando, stop.”

“Just give me another chance, please.”

“Is that why you've been so distant, huh? Was she here on our anniversary?” Lando didn’t say anything, and the flashes from Lnado’s knuckles turning white from holding the door closed that night creeped your mind. Your heart ached so much that every time you breathed deeply, it was scorching you to the core “How could you do that?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising.”

“You know I didn’t mean it.”

“Just stop… god.”

“Y/N just hear me out, I swear it only happened once.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I know that’s not true. Do you know how many times I came to an unmade bed? And how many excuses you made?” He stayed silent. “I don’t care how many times it happened, you still did it and nothing is gonna change that.”

“I know.”

“You’ve been hurt before, right? What if I was the one cheating? Would you just forget it ever happened and come back to me?” Once again, he didn’t say anything. “No. Of course you wouldn’t. Lando, how could I ever forget what you did? Or everything you said to me when we were fighting, and the fact that you lied and- and cheated-”

“But you came all the way here.”

“Because I care, and you... you never cared, you never tried-”

“I care, I care so much. Baby, please, you have to believe me." He tried to reach out to you, but you pushed his hand away.

"No, you don’t, and if I’m here, it’s because I know after this we’ll never see each other again, we’ll never talk again and this just has to end.”

“But I don’t want it to end.”

“Well, you ended it when you cheated on me.”

He stared at you for a moment before continuing. “But… I want you, she didn’t mean anything to me." He approached you again, his hope growing a little when you didn’t stop him. He put a strand of hair behind your ear, softly brushing your cheek. “I know I fucked up but I can’t go on without you, I just can't.”

“Well you have, countless times while I was left in the dark wondering if I had done something wrong, crying myself to sleep when I couldn’t get a hold of you, Lando, and in the meantime you were with her.”

“I’m sorry-”

“And you have the nerve to say all that shit to me, acting like I was suffocating you when in reality I was trying to save us!” You pushed him away.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, please let’s talk about it.”

“Fine, let’s talk about it. Was she worth it?” He shook his head, ready to leave his pride behind as he kneeled in front of you and grabbed one of your hands. “What are you doing? Stop.”

“I promise it was an accident, it won’t happen again.”

“An accident? Lando, are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Please, don’t let me go." The grip on your hand tightened, pulling you closer to him.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No. I don’t want anyone else, I want you, Y/N”

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“But everything I said... I meant it, I love you Y/N and every second we’ve been together has meant everything to me. Baby, you have to understand.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying, you know I’m not." You pushed his hand away, rolling your eyes when another tear rolled down his face. “I know I don’t deserve it but please... just one more chance and I can fix this.”

“Give you a chance? I gave you a chance when I believed your excuses, when I forgave you for cancelling every date we had planned, when I tried to understand why you locked me out, and when I almost forgave you for forgetting our anniversary, I gave you so many fucking chances!”

“But I swear it wasn’t like that, she meant nothing.”

“You’re unbelievable… god, what are you saying?”

“Just think about how great we are together,” he said, trying to hold your torso, but once again you stopped him.

“Lando, stop that.”

“We’re a great team, aren’t we? We understand each other so well, we know each other better than anyone else, god, I’ll do anything, I swear.”

“No, it’s not gonna work.”

“Yes it will, and I’ll make sure of that.”

“No.” You were having a hard time blocking out how much love you still had for him, but you weren’t forgiving him; there was no way.

“I swear I don’t want anyone else." He held your hands and started kissing them, his lips giving you a sense of home that you missed. "Y/N, please, I love you.”

You nodded weakly as you started crying again.

“You know I love you and I would do anything for you." He continued kissing you, a few tears falling on your hands. “Do you still love me?”

“I love you... Lan-” You released one of your hands from his grip, squeezing your eyes shut and covering your face.

“See? It will work, we will make it work." You shook your head; you were feeling stupid for almost falling for that. "Baby, look at me, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”

A moment of silence fell into the room as you collected your thoughts again, and he just looked at you hopeful that he could get you back. “Who is she?” You dared to repeat the question as you looked at him again.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, his voice barely above a whisper when he finally answered. "Annie.”

Annie, your flatmate Annie. She had never met Lando before you, and she wasn’t interested in who he was when you first told her you started dating him, so you were the reason they knew each other for all those times he picked you up from your place, and even then you never considered them to be friends; they barely exchanged any words when they ran into each other. You felt betrayed on a whole new level, not only by Lando but by her too. You had lived with her for so long, literally since the day you moved to Monaco, so you thought of her as one of your closest friends; how could she do that? And these past weeks, when she had been mourning your relationship with Lando, she was there the whole time, and she knew exactly what was happening.

“How long?”

You were getting annoyed at how long it was taking him to answer your simple questions. “The day we went to meet my parents... I drove to your apartment to pick you up, but you weren’t there yet.”

“So you did it at my place?” It wasn’t really a question, and you felt even more disgusted at the thought of them in your own home.

“It was one moment of weakness.”

“One moment of weakness?” He nodded, his hands now holding on to your hips. “But it didn't stop there, did it?”

“I’m sorry.”

You swiped the tears away as you prepared to ask the question you had been asking yourself for weeks. “What does she give you that I can't?”

Lando shook his head quickly. “Nothing, you’re everything I could ever ask for.”

“Then why did you do that?”

He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t really know how it happened or why it kept going, but he couldn’t deny he was enjoying it before he got caught. “I don’t know." He whispered.

“Do you love her?”

“No, of course not. I love you." He was holding you tighter, convinced that if he held you long enough, you would want to stay.

“Oh my god, I’m so stupid.”

“You know it didn’t mean anything, it was a mistake-”

“Get your hands off me, I’m leaving,” you said as you tried to free yourself.

“Baby, please don’t leave, you have to hear me out.”

“Lando, let go. I don’t wanna be here." Your words struggled to come out from how much you were crying.

“Please don’t, I don’t wanna let you go." He looked up at you, his eyes begging for forgiveness. “Let’s just talk about it, yeah? Let me explain.”

“Save it, Lando, it’s over.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. This is obviously my fault, so I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to stay, just please, one more chance is all I’m asking for.” You finally freed yourself, and your only goal was to go back to your apartment and cry all your pain away. You turned around and headed to the door; his hand tried to come to stop you, but you flinched away. You couldn’t bear to hear another word from him. "Baby, please, I love you.”

You turned around to face him one last time, spotting Lando still on his knees in the middle of his living room. “So you’ve said, but how can you hurt someone you claim to love so much?” He was about to say something, but you didn’t wanna hear it. “There’s nothing you can do to get me to stay, you threw everything away.”

“I know, my love, but-”

“I’m gonna leave and you’re gonna stay here, just… leave me alone, I don’t ever wanna see you again.”

You exited the room, leaving Lando alone and a complete mess. He regretted what he did, and he wanted to think that if you would just give him a chance to explain himself, you’d forgive him. But he knew that would never be the case and that his mistake was bigger than any apology; you were right to leave him.

He stared at the door for too long, taking in every emotion he was feeling: remorse, anger, pain, agony... he just felt like life was being sucked out of his body because he ruined the most important part of it, and there’s no one to blame but himself.

#lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris angst #lando norris x y/n #lando norris oneshot #lando norris smut #lando norris one shot #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #ln4 imagine #giannaln4 writes

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catboybiologist · 12 hours ago

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Yay I'm going to get all Political and angry again.

So pretty much every trans American is probably aware of the Sarah McBride situation at this point, but here's the bullet point summary if needed for anyone else:

Sarah McBride gets elected to the House as the first transgender member of Congress in US history.

Republicans predictably flip their shit. They pass internal rules of conduct that prohibit trans people from using bathrooms of their gender and stating that bathroom use is defined by AGAB. It obviously singles out McBride, but I believe there are trans staffers that are also affected.

McBride issues a statement that she will abide by these rules, and pretty much only use the bathroom directly associated with her physical office. She issues a statement saying she "wasn't elected for bathrooms" and will instead fight in issues that matter, with a milquetoast criticism of Republicans for wasting time on this.

Many trans Americans are predictably scared and disappointed by this, especially because this internal house rule is being used as a blueprint for more extensive laws, including a likely ban on trans people in gendered bathrooms in all federal land and buildings (including, notably for me, national parks. Which breaks my heart, but that's a different rant.)

There's been a lot of disappointment and criticism of McBride over this. The general leftist reaction has been criticism. There's lots of people that have expressed disappointment or rage, including Erin Reed, and also more "personality" type people like Vaush and Jessie Gender.

Now.

I'm disappointed too.

But. And please keep reading before chewing me out for being an apologist.

I think we can all understand that McBride is in an impossible situation. If she fights this too hard, then it vindicates the Republican rhetoric that Dems are crazy trans obsessed leftists. But there's a fear that this will only lead to more infringements of rights for trans people. McBride is completely stuck, and is a junior, freshly elected member of Congress who is trying to figure out how to make her voice the most effective.

I am so, so fucking tired of rights being ceded one by one. So I'm disappointed. But yeah, I understand McBride's statement.

But there's just one tiny. Eeny weeny. Minor. Itty Bitty question having over all of this. Just one little concern.

Where.

The fuck.

Are the rest of the Democrats?!?!?!?

There is a PAINFULLY fucking easy solution to all of this. McBride needs backing, solidarity, and other people to speak for her. If she's worried about her voice being effective, and being branded as the crazy trans representative, then step the fucking up, you spineless liberal slimebags.

AOC is the only one that I know of that has expressed any real opposition or anger. Her statements are getting aaallll the airtime.

But the real story is McBride's sentiment being echoed amongst the entire party. This is absolutely some kind of official platform. The fucking grumbling, milquetoast finger waving and "well I don't like this, but there's nothing to be done! Anyways"

Of fucking course minorites are abandoning the left. The message they're sending is "we'll abandon you with the most pathetic of excuses. We don't give a shit." Trimming groups out of their support one by one.

McBride is doing the impossible calculus of trying to be the most effective on the house floor. It's an insane task for a trans woman. And yeah, she got it wrong this time. But where the fuck is the anger for her cis colleagues? Why the fuck aren't people angry and terrified for everyone that let this shit happen?

As much as people love the narrative of the line wolf resistor, resistance takes coordination, effort, and solidarity. Without that, what would McBride raising opposition even be? One representative against the hundreds of others.

And yeah, of course I didn't expect any better from the Democratic party. But you should be disappointed and mad at your representative, not just McBride.

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heesimp · 22 hours ago

Note

sunghoon removing the condom mid sex because 1) he honestly couldn't care less 2) he genuinely believes he has rights to do so simply bc he wants to 🤷‍♀️ 3) you're too dumb on his dick to even notice that.. not until he cums inside ofc but it's not like you can do anything against his strength and big frame even if you wanted to

condom removal is so hot and I would do a lot for sunghoon to cum inside of me without protection 😩 make me creamy goddamn

note: this work contains themes of noncon and should not be replicated, and if this happens outside of the realm of fiction then it is considered sexual assault.

Sunghoon knows he loves to have sex but he thinks you might like it even more than he does.

Neither of you are committed to one another but somehow, you find yourself in bed with him twice a week and don’t have an issue if he shows up your place unannounced. Sunghoon isn’t pushy and understands if you’re not available when he wants you to be. The respect is probably the reason why you agreed to start hooking up with him regularly on the first place.

And like, your birth control is always there to save you but you like using condoms for that extra layer of safety. Sunghoon always brought condoms with him whenever the two of you would meet up and the one time he didn’t have any was the first time he experiences having sex with you without that protective rubber.

He can’t get enough and dreams of your wet pussy against his bare cock. It makes Sunghoon hard every single time he thinks about seeing how tight you gripped him when he didn’t use condoms. He doesn’t ever want to go back.

Sunghoon has you on your hands and knees with your cheek pressed into the mattress. You’re almost sure you might be drooling and your hair fans across your face as he pounds into you with one knee on the bed. His other foot holds him up for stability as he fucks you like that.

“Tightest pussy in the world,” he moans loudly, too lost in the pleasure of seeing his cock drilling in and out of you, even with the protective sheen preventing him from truly feeling you.

You’re too gone to hear what he’s saying but his dick feels so big and good inside of you. You moan wildly and feel your own voice vibrate in your chest the more Sunghoon pushes and pulls against you.

“You like my cock?”

“I love it,” you choke out.

“Yeah, baby? Like it when my big dick fucks this tight hole?”

“Fuck me harder!”

Sunghoon’s crouches on the bed, using your body for balance ad both of his feet plant onto the mattress. He’s got a grip on your waist and squeezes when he feels you clenching around him. The new angle feels divine because his heavy, warm balls rest right against your pussy. He gives an experimental swing and you curse loudly when his balls smack against your clit.

“Oh, you like that?” Sunghoon pushes into you again. “You look so sexy beneath me. Makes me want to put babies in you.”

“N-No,” you stutter, trying to shake your head.

Sunghoon begins to push into you deeper. “No? You don’t want my cum? You don’t want it to take? But your pussy feels so good, baby.” His words make you moan and clench around him again.

“F-Fuck, Sunghoon!”

The echoing sounds of his balls slapping against your pussy makes Sunghoon’s eyes roll to the back of his head. He looks down to see the shape of your naked body and twitches right inside of you, which makes you squirm beneath him and the arch of your back crumbles in erotic pleasure.

Your pussy squeezes him a little too hard until you push him out but Sunghoon doesn’t mind. He grins at your wet hole and leans back to pull your bottom half into an arch again by pushing your legs together. You feel his tongue rub itself all over your folds and grip the bedsheets below you the more his wet muscle slides over your sensitive areas. Sunghoon flicks your clit a few times and drags it over the surface, making you moan right into his pillows.

He pulls away to give your pussy a smack. “Such a dirty girl, huh? Your pussy looks so cute when I’m using it.”

Sunghoon licks up another stripe before pulling himself upright. You don’t see him but you feel the bed moving underneath you as Sunghoon pulls your legs together again until your thighs are pressed against one another. He cages you in with his knees and you hear him jerking off with one hand while the other grips your ass and pulls each cheek apart to reveal your tight pussy.

“Your ass is phenomenal,” he complements as he twists his wrists while you close your eyes and bite your lip.

Sunghoon stays like that for a minute, admiring your asscheeks as you gush at the sound of his cock against the condom. You want nothing more than for him to stick his cock back in and start to think about the moments just prior when his balls slapped your pussy lips and sent you straight to heaven.

Your thoughts are cut off when you hear the sound of rubber smacking. Your heartbeat picks up at the familiar sound and start to turn around when Sunghoon pushes his tip back and forth over your folds, confirming your suspicions. The condom is gone.

“Suchhhh a nice pussy,” he groans as the wetness splashes onto his bare dick. “Makes me so horny.”

Your mouth hangs open the more Sunghoon pushes his cock inside of you, burying himself inch by inch until he’s so deep that you feel his balls just underneath your ass. He puts both of his palms beside you and pulls himself away from your body just to push back in.

You panic underneath him but moan simultaneously. Your heartbeat races at the sensation of his bare dick as Sunghoon twists his hips to angle himself deeper than he was before while your mouth hangs open, a string of moans pouring from the back of your throat.

“Your body’s gonna make me cum,” Sunghoon grunts. You close your eyes shut and clench around him in bursts when he speaks, making him moan deeply into the open air. He reaches over to his side and places the used condom on your left asscheek as he uses his hands to spread you apart, grunting at the sight of him invading your hole.

Sunghoon doesn’t give you any time to object or react and it feels too good to say something now. He stutters as his hips become faster and rougher before he’s gripping your asscheeks and digging his fingernails into your meaty flesh, his big cock lodged so deep into your pussy that you swear you’re in another dimension. He cums with his eyes focus on your hole and moans the second he sees it bubble out of you.

#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #enha hard thoughts #enha hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #sunghoon #hard thought

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dragons-stories-hoard · 8 hours ago

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Okay but I don't think it should be day one of Merlin being in Camelot, cause then frankly nothing is stopping Morgana from going all game of thrones on Uther and Arther.

Might I suggest, they come back when they're kids? Hear me out. Morgana may have been messed up and evil but even she wasn't going around killing squishy baby-faced ten year Olds. So she's going to hesitate at trying to kill Arthur because he's a child, and vice versa for Arthur and co seeing Morgana. Plus none of them have the strength (in body or magic) to start challenging Uther for the throne so they can instigate chamge, but theres time where they cant change much but they can think and plan for the future. So they have time to deal with their feelings at seeing old enemies again but they're friends still. (None realize they aren't the only one who time traveled). Maybe it's soon after Morgana moved to Camelot, so her sudden anger at Uther and temper can be attributed to a grieving child.

Arthur and Gwen both know how Morgana turns evil so they're looking out for signs of her magic and hey look at that she's being given sleeping draughts even as a young child. And they realize Uther would still kill this baby-faced Morgana if he knew, and they know how her fear of him turned her to hate everyone. They see their friend as a scared grieving child and want to change her fate. So they start trying to assure her without directly letting her know about the magic. Meanwhile Morgana is seeing Arthur stand up to his father on her behalf, and promising her he will protect her even from Uther if he has to. And she can't remember if he'd done that before, thinks maybe she forgot in all her fear and anger. And she has time to realize she may have had reason to fear but she never did give Gwen and Arthur a chance to be good. She was the one who turned on them first.

MEANWHILE Merlin has much better control of his magic because he already has so much knowledge of the old religion and it's language from the previous life. He works harder on controlling and improving his magic and skills from a young age. He is determined to fight fate and save everyone so he needs to be better stronger more knowledgeable. He starts taking trips to the druids under the guise of "taking goods from the village to trade" (he does trade but keeps the fact that it's with druids to himself and maybe Will since he'd want to come with his friend sometimes). He learns from books and people he had no chance to learn from before, building on his knowledge. He looks into death magic and high priestesses, knowing Nimueh will eventually target him and Arthur and Gaius and his mother. He thinks ahead to ways to keep Lancelots sacrifice from happening or even ways to bring someone back from the veil without tearing it if he must. He thinks of Elyan and looks into ways to heal unhealable wounds, thinks of Morgana and plans to kill Morgause before she can put the spell on the kingdom and use Morgana as the center. He looks up obscure poisons and remedies, looks for Protective enchantments and healing spells he can layer into the knights armor and clothes the second he sees them again. He takes time to hunt down traffickers and cage fighting rings to destroy them before Lancelot or Gwaine ever have a chance to be forced into fights to the death again. He looks for rumors of the last dragonlord so he can free Kilgarrah and hatch Aithusa without Leon ever having to be revived from the flames.

Due to his frequent travels, whichever of the wandering knights try to find their young friend early think they got the wrong village whenever they arrive in Ealdor. (Gwen Arthur and Morgana are the only ones who went before amd they don't exactly have a reasonable excuse to go there to see their friend now. They have to wait).

I bet Elyan was first to try to find Merlin early. He was closest and he started his travels pretty early, thinks he can suggest Merlin start the apprenticeship sooner but he can't seem to find Merlins village (he found it but Merlin was away learning death magic or whatever). However this time on his travels Elyan stays in touch with his family, returns occasionally to help with the forge, tries to talk his sister out of getting a job at the castle to her confusion (she's stubborn and by then is determined to stop Morgana from turning evil due to fear so she does not take this well).

Leon sees Uthers reign, remembers Arthur's and how much better it was amd how much happier he had been with all of Arthur's changes, and he starts subtly backing Arthur more. Talking Arthur's suggestions up to Uther, giving Arthur support earlier. He's Arthur's knight before Uthers this time around and he is disgusted by some of Uthers choices having seen the consequences. Having seen a better way of living.

Percival keeps hearing rumors of the fabled Emrys being alive, making moves, accessing powerful magics. He lives near and was partially raised by druids, so he hears these whispers and with future insight is able to piece together Arthur is the OAFK. He starts training.

Lancelot honestly knows the least of them (he died first man) so he's just gonna show up to Camelot earlier than before and do his best to support his friends and keep Arthur and Merlin alive.

Gwaine saw the sorcerer saving Camelots troops in that final battle, and he never had strong opinions about magic before but now he thinks about it and realizes if they allowed magic it would save so many lives. Hell, it would remove so many enemies. And he's always had a rather pushy relationship with Arthur so he can manage to nudge him towards being okay with magic without crossing the line and making Arthur think he's gonna commit treason. Plus he'd love to see young awkward child Merlin (sadly he also arrives in Ealdor while Merlin is away, probably learning to shape-shift or smt).

So when Merlin finally realizes it's time to head to Camelot, he tells his mother he wishes to apprentice with his uncle to learn medicine (she felt he was able to hide his gifts this time and didn't feel the need to send him away to protect him). He arrives amd when all the knights of the round table end up arriving much sooner than before he assumes it's ripple effects of all the stuff he'd been doing with the druids and his self imposed quests. Leon, Gwen, Arthur and Morgana just assume they did something to affect some policy of Uthers so they shrug off any changes as well. I think Lancelot is the only one who's really confused/concerned with all the shifts because it's making it harder for him to help Merlin dammit.

I think Gwaine, Percival, Leon and Elyan never got the chance to find out about Merlins magic but the others did so everyone is working off different levels of knowledge and it's chaos cause they all assume they know more than everyone else.

Merlin is so used to working alone he's hiding his magic from everyone and he's losing so much sleep trying to deal with threats before they come near his people but the others are GOING NEAR THE THREATS ITS FINE. At least they're more prone to believe him this time and less fond of >insert villain of the week<

The others are remembering almost these threats like "Jesus Christ how did this get solved last time?" Everyone is trying to keep Merlin from drinking the poisoned chalice, Leon is ready to go searching for the flower himself or go with Arthur or hell, even ready to sneak into the dungeons to talk to Arthur to get the flower for Merlin himself (everyone is a lot angrier at Uther for his refusal to allow anyone to get the flower to save Merlin despite him not knowing its anything but a simple task, even Morgana who is hesitant/still kinda mad at Merlin is pissed) (this makes her think on Merlins POV more because frankly if she was scared to reveal her magic, of course Merlin would be. He had even less protections, Uther was okay with allowing him to die when he thought Merlin had saved his son AGAIN.) So maybe she is a bit sympathetic to the man who killed her. Who was once her friend. Because she's seeing how much bullshit he had to deal with in keeping Arthur alive and now she knows he has magic she's realizing he was the one protecting her and Arthur and the kingdom long before she knew about her own magic. Because how else did these things get solved when it wasn't Arthur or herself (she is the first to put together just how much Merlin did for all of them tbh).

One of them walks in on Edwin (idk if that was his name the cure all ills guy) attacking Merlin and helps dispatch him while Merlin is unconscious and it scares the hell out of Merlin that they fought a sorcerer when he was out of commission, while whoever came in wad terrified at seeing/hearing Merlin Crack his skull on the wall from Edwin throwing him and seeing him lying there. They see how much danger Merlin was/is putting himself in to protect them and it scares them.

Merlin is definitely losing sleep trying to stay ahead of all the threats and his friends who keep HEADIMG TOWARDS DANGER so like. He's exhausted and his friends are seeing how tired amd clumsy he is with new eyes once they know he's the one dispatching threats when they're not looking.

Also frankly all of them are hit hard with seeing their friends so young, seeing them before everything happened. And they're all definitely way more emotional about it and I feel like as the youngest they're all so protective of this baby faced Merlin because gods above he was so small and youthful and energetic how was he ever this skinny? (It's jarring for Percival especially he didn't meet Merlin until he'd been a fighting magical threats to Camelot for a few years, and if he thought Merlin was small before he's downright concerned now). (Doesn't help Merlin is worse at taking care of himself this time) (Merlin is as cheery as he was in early seasons because hey this is when shit was easy, and the moral dilemmas were way less intense and he gets to see all his friends and Morgana isn't evil and he can protect them all this is great! He loves spending time with them when hes not working or protecting them and he will make the most of this time). (The rest of them are like wtf because they are comparing baby Merlin to end season Merlin and realizing somewhere along the way he lost that cheer and enthusiasm and they're like we gotta protect the small and they are all working themselves into protective flurries over Merlin and being so nice to him).

Not gonna write a full fic but had to get my thoughts out. This is a fun au and it would be fascinating to keep track of who knows what amd when people come back and how everyone tries to deal with threat of the week or when they each even realize "oh shit that person tried to kill me!" Cause I guarantee they didn't realize some of the threats were threats the first time around.

I think it would be insanely funny if after Arthur’s death everyone returns back in time to the place they were the day Merlin arrived in Camelot. But like, everyone thinks they are the only ones who has returned. We see it all from Merlin’s pov, who’s traumatised and wondering why the fuck Arthur is so much sweeter to him this time around and keeps saying ‘thank you’. He wonders why Lancelot shows up earlier, why all of a sudden Gwaine is there three years too early, saying he got hurt in a tavern bawl and needs a physician. He wonders why Leon keeps pretending like he didn’t just accidentally see Merlin do magic. Why Gwen keeps giving him these knowing looks. And why Morgana doesn’t seem as afraid as she used to when she was figuring out that she had magic. Everyone is trying their best to change history for the better, thinking they are alone with this duty... and then one day when uther is dead and they are sitting around the round table, merlin steps forward and is like: ‘I need to confess that I have magic, but also that I have returned from the future.’ And everyone just whips around and is like ‘YOU TOO??!’ And then they realise that they’ve all returned and wasted their time thinking they were alone.

#merlin #merlin au #merlin timetravel au #merlin fix it au #merlin fanfiction #merlin fanfic #everyone remembers #everyone lives #bbc merlin #merlin everyone knows au #sort of

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meleeyz · 1 day ago

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୭ 𝗩𝗜𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 ˚. ᵎᵎ

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

viktor 𝒙 fem!reader (platonic)

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ I don't know, I just thought it would be a fun dynamic, enjoy!

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

𓆤 Ekko crashing into you on his hoverboard was how it all began. It happened during one of your hurried trips back to Zaun after a grueling week in Piltover’s laboratories. You were distracted, engrossed in your mental checklist of materials Viktor had asked you to bring. You didn't even notice the faint whir of Ekko’s hoverboard until it was too late.

“Hey, watch—” Ekko started, his voice sharp with alarm before cutting off mid-sentence as the two of you collided.

You landed flat on your back with a groan, Viktor's precious schematics flying out of your bag. Ekko was quick to get up and extend a hand to help you up.

“Oh crap, I didn’t mean to—uh, are you okay?” Ekko asked with a sheepish grin.

“You should really watch where you’re going!” you snapped, brushing yourself off. Then your eyes locked. It was hard to stay mad at someone who looks like they actually cared.

From then on, every return trip to Zaun seemed incomplete without bumping into him, either by accident or by his deliberate attempts to "run into" you.

𓆤 Ekko had mixed feelings about your constant back-and-forth trips. He understood why you had to be in Piltover so much—your apprenticeship under Viktor was important—but that didn’t mean he liked it.

“You know, it’s kinda unfair,” he said one evening, as the two of you sat on the rooftop of a crumbling Zaun building. The view of the Undercity's twinkling lights stretched around you, and the new prototype of his hoverboard leaned against the nearby wall. “Piltover gets you all day, and Zaun just gets you at night.”

𓆤 Ekko loved your sharp mind. In fact, he found your involvement with Hextech fascinating, even if he teased you endlessly about being a “Piltover nerd.”

“Look at you, little Miss Zaunite Hextech Genius,” he’d say with a smirk as he watched you tinker with a device. “All fancy with your gears and crystals. Can you make something that doesn’t explode?”

You rolled your eyes.

“This is for science. Not for impressing you.”

“Oh, but you already impress me.” He’d wink, leaning over your shoulder to inspect your work. His genuine curiosity often led to him offering ideas that somehow worked, despite his lack of formal training. You suspected his innate knack for mechanics rivaled even Viktor’s.

𓆤 Ekko would often stop by you house in Undercity unannounced, bringing little gifts—scrap metal he thought you could use or metal flowers that he made with his own hands for you

𓆤 You, in turn, would surprise him with modifications for his hoverboard or gadgets to help the Firelights. His reaction to your gifts was always the same: pure delight.

𓆤 Leaving aside the jokes, he loved watching you work, claiming it was “like seeing genius in action.” You’d laugh and tell him to stop distracting you, but his presence always made the hours fly by.

𓆤 The two of you shared countless late-night conversations on rooftops, swapping dreams and fears.

𓆤 It started subtly. Ekko’s laugh lingered in your mind longer than it should have. His voice, the way he said your name, echoed in your thoughts while you worked. You found yourself doodling in the margins of your notes, spiraling into daydreams that left you blushing.

𓆤 Viktor initially didn’t think much of Ekko—at least not directly. He only knew of him through your constant chatter.

“Ekko said this really clever thing about—” “Ekko helped me figure out how to—” “Ekko...”

Eventually, Viktor sighed and set down his pen.

“I can’t believe you’re getting so worked up about some guy,” he said, exasperation lacing his words.

“This one is different!” you protested, fidgeting with a loose thread on your sleeve. “He’s honest, he’s sweet—”

“Please…”

“He would never do anything to hurt me!”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.

“He’s a guy.”

“He’s also... brilliant. And kind... and handsome... and—”

“Oh shit, here we go again…” He exhaled, completely tired.

𓆤 The meeting happened in Piltover, under less-than-ideal circumstances. You’d convinced the Academy to grant you temporary access to the lab for a personal project, ostensibly Hextech-related. In truth, you were helping Ekko repair an broken stabilizer for the Firelights

You thought you were being sneaky. You were wrong.

Viktor appeared in the doorway, cane tapping against the marble floor. His eyes immediately landed on the device in Ekko’s hands and then flicked to you.

“And what,” he asked dryly, “is going on here?”

Ekko froze, looking like a child caught stealing candy. You scrambled to explain, words tumbling out in a panicked mess.

To your surprise, Viktor didn’t explode. Instead, he regarded Ekko with quiet intensity. After a long pause, he nodded.

“You have talent,” he said to Ekko. “Perhaps more than you deserve.”

Ekko grinned, clearly amused. “Thanks? I think?”

From then on, Viktor tolerated Ekko’s presence, though he would often sigh dramatically whenever you brought him up in conversation.

𓆤 The news of Viktor’s declining health hit you like a blow. For all his brilliance, your mentor was mortal, and the idea of losing him felt unbearable. You confided in Ekko, who held you as you cried, his quiet strength grounding you.

“He’s proud of you, you know,” Ekko said softly, stroking your back. “He might not say it, but he is.”

Those words stayed with you, offering comfort during the hardest days.

𓆤 As Viktor’s condition worsened, he grew more reflective. One day, he called you into his office. You found him gazing out the window, his frail frame silhouetted against the light.

“You’ve been a good apprentice,” he said without turning around. “Better than I deserved.”

“Don’t say that,” you whispered, your throat tight.

He turned to face you, his expression soft despite the lines of pain etched into his face.

“I’m sorry I won’t be there for your wedding day.”

Your eyes widened.

“What—?”

“I’m not blind,” he said with a faint smile. “Or deaf. That boy... he makes you happy.”

Tears welled in your eyes.

“He does.”

“Then go to him,” Viktor said gently. “And live. Live, my dear. Work, yes, but also live. With him.”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

#arcane x reader #ekko x reader

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unoislazy · 3 days ago

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School Time Crush

(College Au)

Vi x Fem!Reader

Basically under her tough and flirty exterior Vi is a dork.

This is my most UNSERIOUS fanfic to date so please for the love of god don’t take this seriously. I just wanted something silly goofy to cope with what is to come😔

Warnings:Cursing.

“So… midterms… crazy right?” Vi said awkwardly as she walked alongside you, her hands in the pocket of her favorite jacket. You smiled with a slight exhale from your nose before glancing at her from the side.

“Very.” You responded as you shifted your bag to a bit of a more comfortable position. You and VI haven't always been friends, you met in a math class that you both had to take and happened to sit together. From then on you’ve gradually hung out more and more outside of classes, and outside of the context of school in general.

“So I was thinking.” She began, tilting her head to the side a bit as she looked at you. She used to have such a tough extortion around you but as you got closer you watched as it practically melted away. Sure she could hold her own in a fight but on the inside she was such a softie, whether she wanted to be or not.

“That’s dangerous.” You joked as you stole another glance at her before looking back to focus on where you were walking.

“We haven’t hung out together in a while.”

“Vi, we’re literally hanging out right now.”

“I know but, I mean really hanging out. Like go somewhere with a purpose of doing something.” She said, her hands remaining in her pockets as she gestured with them.

“Wow you have such a way with words.” You said playfully.

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don't.” You teased with a shrug which earned a sarcastic yet lighthearted eye roll from your friend. Before you could continue your conversation a different voice came into the conversation,

“Vi!” You heard someone call out from not too far away. You hung around Vi enough to be able to recognize that voice without a second thought, powder, Vi’s sister. She ran over to you two, her hair in her usual semi-long braids, her clothing covered in paint and dust from other artistic mediums.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your date with your girlfriend, I just got a call from-“ She spoke as she finally got closer.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Vi quickly interrupted to which Powder replied even faster,

“Yeah whatever, long story short I need you to come with me, right now, let’s go.” She said hastily as she grabbed her sister's hand.

“I’ll bring her back in one piece for you I promise.” She said as she turned to you with a salute. You couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. You watched as Vi was dragged away, with a small wave you then turned to other things.

As Powder dragged Vi away, she turned to her sister.

“You still haven’t asked her out?” She stopped short, placing her hands on her hips as she looked at her older sister.

“No but I was getting to that…” Vi argued slightly, crossing her arms in front of

herself before Powder shook her head.

“Yeah okay.” She huffed, clearly not believing Vi in the slightest.

“I was-“ She cut herself off with a sigh, realizing it wasn’t worth arguing with her sister before continuing, “What did you even drag me away for?” Vi asked, looking down at her sister a bit.

“Right so crazy story, your friend Jayce, he lost his phone so he asked Viktor to ask Ekko to ask me to ask you to help him with his math. He said it was super urgent.”

Vi simply stared at her sister with the blankest of blank stares.

“That’s it?”

“Yup.”

“Seriously?”

“Mhm.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

“Viktor was right there and he decided to ask for me…” She said, almost as if she was disappointed in his critical thinking skills. She sighed, leaning her head back a bit before looking back at her sister. She then quickly looked back to where she had been standing with you just moments before, without this interruption she would have already asked you out, or tried to at least.

“Whatever, fine I’ll help him.” She sighed and begrudgingly made her way to the library where she knew Jayce stayed from open to close when he needed to finish work. He was a very academically bright man, books were his strong suit and so was troubleshooting projects. Anything else though? Not a singular clue in the world. Vi was very much the opposite, she didn’t care much for books unless she had to, and even then they were her favorite. So the two of them together created one averagely intelligent person.

Which is why she was so shocked he asked for her help and not his boyf- his friend Viktors help.

When she finally met up with him, they got right to work, and almost just as soon as they started they quickly realized they weren’t going to actually be able to get any of this done. Vi couldn’t focus, she was more focused on being able to ask you out. Her mind raced with possible ways to go about it and none of them seemed just right. In a momentary lapse of judgment, Vi turned to Jayce and without a single ounce of hesitation asked,

“How do you ask a girl out?”

Silence. Complete silence fell over the two.

“You’re asking… me?” Jayce asked while pointing at himself before looking behind him as if there could’ve been anyone else she was asking.

“Duh Talis. You asked Mel, didnt you? How did you do it?” She asked, completely disregarding the work she had in front of her. Figuring out a solution to her dilemma was much more important.

“Well I wouldn't say I asked her out, it was more of a ‘what are we?’ Kind of a situation.” He explained, avoiding eye contact with Vi the whole time as she exasperatedly put her head down on the table, her hands clasped together in a plea of desperation.

“Any words of wisdom, any at all, just give me something here pretty boy and I’ll ACTUALLY try to help you with your work.” She pleaded, which was a fairly rare sight.

Jayce knew this which made it too tempting to not say no. So he agreed, albeit reluctantly as he knew there was fuck all he could actually help with but god damn it he was going to try.

“Okay, so have you ever heard of the shoulder touch?” He asked, his hands clasped together in front of his mouth as he looked towards Vi like some evil mastermind.

Vi raised an eyebrow at him, immediately regretting her decision to ask him.

“No. No I haven’t.”

It was fairly straight forward, all she had to do was put her hand on your shoulder and say ‘hey’. An immediate guaranteed swoon, as Jayce put it. Vi decided that was enough evidence for her and made her exact plan to try and ask you out.

Luckily it wasn’t long before she got to see you again and she immediately attempted to put the plan into action.

“Remember what he said, gotta go slow, can’t rush or it’ll be awkward.” Vi thought to herself as she walked up to you, trying to look as casual as possible.

“Wait why the fuck am I taking advice from Jayce of all people he can’t even-“

“Hey Vi.” You said which quickly snapped her out of her thoughts. She hadn’t realized she practically made her way right in front of you as you stayed leaning on the wall behind you.

Perfect opportunity.

You looked at her confused as she suddenly took her hand out of her pocket and reached towards your shoulder and leaned forward just the slightest bit. What she didn’t account for was how much farther away you were than she thought, she was so focused on not fucking up that she managed to mess up the simplest part.

Standing close to you.

She quickly stopped herself from falling forward as her hand slammed against the wall behind you, saving herself from a fall as well as managing to repurpose her shoulder touch to something that looked equally purposeful.

“Hey.” She greeted calmly as if she meant to do that the whole time. In your eyes, it went incredibly smoothly except for that split second where she looked terrified that she was falling forward.

It was then that Vi realized.

What does she say now?

Immediately all the confidence she held on her face disappeared as she simply looked at you, then the wall then back at you as if some answers would just appear.

“Are you okay?” You asked, a little concerned by her sudden change in demeanor.

“Would you maybe wanna go on a date with me, at some point, some time.”

“Such a way with words.” You laughed before nodding with a smile.

“Shut up you know what I meant.” She rolled her eyes.

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 3 days ago

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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 16

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15

Aside from bathroom breaks, Eddie doesn’t leave his room for two days. Friday bleeds into Saturday, bleeds into Sunday, and Eddie wallows in it. Wayne knows him well enough to not bother him, but Wayne also knows him well enough to barge into Eddie’s room Sunday morning without even knocking.

“Up, boy,” he says gruffly, turning Eddie’s overhead light on. “Your eggs are getting cold.”

Eddie groans, and tries to roll over to bury his face back into his pillow, but Wayne grabs him by the ankle and yanks until he goes tumbling out of the bed.

“Wayne!”

“I ain’t asking,” Wayne says, storming out of Eddie’s room without closing the door.

As is his right, Eddie whines and rolls around on his floor for a minute until he can finally find the will to get up. Clearly knowing that it would take Eddie a minute, Wayne’s just plating eggs and potatoes as Eddie walks into the kitchen, still clothed in only his boxers and the same shirt he’d been wearing when Carver’d kicked his ass on Thursday.

They settle across from each other at their dingy table, Wayne letting him get a few bites of breakfast in him before the interrogation he knows is coming begins.

“What happened?” Wayne asks, pushing his own plate away so he can focus on staring Eddie down.

Eddie swallows his bite of potatoes, throat suddenly dry. But, he wants to tell someone, he wants to tell Wayne, who, no matter how Eddie fucks up, is always in his corner.

“I’ve been getting these letters,” Eddie starts, using his fork to play with his food so he doesn’t have to meet his Uncle’s eyes as the whole sordid tale comes out.

He tells it like he experienced it: thinking it was a joke at first before getting wrapped up in the letters, finding out it was Chrissy, trying to connect the living, breathing girl to the words on the page.

And then, Harrington, strong and sure as he defended him from Carver, taking care of his wounds in the aftermath, lying to him for months until he couldn't get away with it anymore.

Wayne just listens without interruption while Eddie talks about Jeff’s betrayal, the fear in Chrissy’s eyes, the defeated slope of Harrington’s back as he’d walked out the door, going god knows where with his car still at the quarry where he’d left it.

When Eddie’s finally done, Wayne hums and pulls his now-cold food back in front of him, picks up his fork and starts to eat. Eddie watches him, gobsmacked.

“Wayne?” Eddie asks, moving his hand up and down in front of his Uncle’s eyes, checking to see if the old man can even still see him. “That’s all you’re going to say? Hmm, and then back to breakfast?”

Eddie scowls as he forks another potato into his mouth, chewing as he continues his tirade. “Where are your wise words, old man? Why the hell’d you even make me get up if this is all I was going to get?”

Wayne hums again, clearly just to piss Eddie off, then finally answers, “you needed to eat.”

Eddie stares at him, mouth hanging open half-masticated potatoes on full display for anyone to see. Not that anyone’s going to because Wayne’s gone back to polishing off his breakfast.

“That’s it?” Eddie demands, throwing his fork down in a huff.

Wayne sighs, like Eddie’s the one being unreasonable here and finally puts his fork down to meet his nephew’s eyes.

“Finish your breakfast, and we can talk.”

Eddie whines, but dutifully scarfs down his plate, never breaking eye contact with his uncle, like they’re in a stand-off. And in a way, they are.

Once done, Eddie tosses his fork across the room into the sink just to prove a point, leans across the table and glares at Wayne. Because he’s an asshole, Wayne takes another sip of his coffee, maintaining eye contact, before finally opening his mouth to speak.

“You like this boy?” Wayne asks.

Eddie sputters and stalls out. “You—I—what?” Eddie asks, fisting his hands into his greasy hair.

“It ain’t an unreasonable question,” he replies. “You’re talking about the kid like he’s a knight in one of those little games you like so much.”

“I—no I wasn’t!” Eddie cries, cheeks burning at the implication.

“Mmmhmm,” Wayne replies, eyebrow raised as he drinks more of his coffee like what he’s saying is of no importance at all.

“Wayne,” Eddie says, leaning over the table to clutch at his shoulders, ribs protesting at the pull. “I’m not gay.”

And that, out of everything, is what gets Wayne to put his mug back down and take Eddie seriously. “You ain’t?” Wayne asks, eyebrow raised. Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide. “You sure? There’s an awful lot of men in leather on your walls.”

Eddie squawks, sinking painfully back into his seat. “That’s Metallica.”

Wayne squints at him. “Is that one of them code words y’all use to stay safe?”

Eddie stands up, chair screeching against the linoleum floor. “It’s a band, Wayne!” Eddie cries, at a loss for what the fuck is happening. “I’m not gay!”

Wayne looks up at him, both eyebrows raised enough to scrunch up his forehead, wrinkling his mostly-bald head. “Well, alright then.”

Eddie stares at him, brain buzzing with even more questions than he’d had before. How long had Wayne thought he was gay? Why? What did he do?

Was he really okay with it?

Eddie turns on his heel and marches out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom without another word. He slams the door and collapses onto his bed, gut squirming with all the thoughts churning in his head.

***

Chrissy isn’t surprised when Eddie doesn’t come to school on Monday; she is surprised when Steve does. He’s got bags under his eyes and Robin Buckley super-glued to his side, but he’s still there.

She can’t help the way she runs into his arms, leaving Jeff behind without thought. Steve catches her—he always does, pushing his hands beneath his letterman jacket to grab at her waist and pull her in. They sway there in the middle of the hallway, all their classmates jeering around them.

Chrissy doesn’t care; she’s spent the entire weekend thinking about the crushed look in his eyes as he walked out of the Munson trailer without a backwards glance

“You’re okay?” she asks, face pressed into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

He runs his hand up and down her back as he responds, “I will be.”

She pulls back to smile up at him and reaches up to brush a floppier-than-usual lock of hair behind his ear. “Walk me to class?”

He links their elbows, and does just that, Jeff and Robin falling into line behind them, Robin prattling on about some movie marathon her and Steve had had at her house over the weekend.

Chrissy’s just glad he wasn’t alone.

Steve sighs, shoulders slumping as he says, “I’m sorry, Chris,” he says, not looking her way. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess.”

She stops abruptly enough that Robin stumbles into them and bounces back, cutting off her stream of words mid-babble to squawk at them. Chrissy doesn’t acknowledge her, too busy standing on her tippy toes so she can grab Steve’s shoulders and yank him down to her level.

“You listen to me, Steve Harrington,” she demands, looking into his big, bewildered eyes. “Your mess is my mess, okay?”

He’s still just staring at her, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, so she digs her nails in hard and says, “forever,” with as much finality as she can muster.

He keeps staring at her, looking like he’s about ready to burst into tears in the middle of the hallway. Finally, he says, “come over tonight?” more a demand than a question.

She drops her grip on him and nods, content.

Chrissy doesn’t ask questions when Steve leads her over to Robin in the cafeteria. It’s easy to take that last, final step into social suicide with him at her side.

They fall into their usual routine that night—they watch trashy TV neither would admit to liking to another living soul, and paint each other’s nails.

The lack of letter writing sits like a dead body between them.

“He won’t tell anyone,” Chrissy says, tightening her grip on his hand when he jerks. Chrissy keeps carefully painting his nails, her favorite pink, not looking up at his face. The color suits him—it’s not fair, but everything does. “He promised.”

Steve doesn’t ask for clarification, they both know who she’s talking about. “You believe him?”

She thinks about that torn, guilty look on Eddie’s face and replies, “I do.”

She finishes his pinkie and settles his hand down on her own knee to dry, knowing from previous experience that if she gives it back, he’ll ruin all her work running his hand through his hair.

“That’s good,” he mutters, looking down at his own hand, tilted so far forward that even when she looks up, his hair’s flopped too far into his face to see his eyes. “It still hurts.”

Chrissy sighs. She’d seen this coming all those months ago when she’d helped pen the first letter. Had seen the writing on the wall like it was she herself that was writing it. But, she’d helped him anyway, hoping to salvage his safety, if not his dignity.

She can only hope she has.

“I know,” she replies, biting her lip against apologies he won’t accept. “But, we’re in this together, okay?”

Steve’s fingers twitch on her leg, but he doesn’t pull away. “Even with you and Jeff?”

“You figured that out, huh?” she asks, and that’s what finally gets him to look up at her with a raised brow, making her laugh.

“I mean, you told me you were going to ask him out,” he starts, before leering over at her. “And you two aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Tell that to Eddie,” she replies, wanting to swallow the name back down once it comes out of her mouth, but it’s too late—it’s already been said.

Steve smiles wryly as he says, “well, he’s not exactly the most observant, is he?”

He has her there. Steve himself, no matter how hard he tried, wasn’t subtle with his affections: the compliments, the stuttering over his words, the blushing. But none of it had done more than make Eddie give Steve suspicious looks, like there was some sort of game he wasn’t in on.

There was, but even without knowing he was playing, he’d still beaten Steve.

“No, he’s really not.”

Steve hums, picking up his hand to check if it’s dry before moving onto painting her nails. He picks his favorite yellow for her, even though he knows it washes her out. She holds out her hand and doesn’t complain.

“I really like him,” Steve says, quietly enough that it’s barely audible over the murmur of voices coming from the TV.

“I know,” she whispers, watching the flickering sadness on his face by the illumination of the Harrington’s big television screen. “I love you. You know that, right?”

He pauses in painting her nails to meet her eyes, smiling for real now. “I know,” he says, stroking the skin on her wrist with the free fingers not holding the nail polish applicator. “And you know what? This was all worth it if I got you out of it.”

And then he just goes back to painting her nails like that wasn’t the most romantic thing anyone has ever said. Eddie Munson can fuck himself; Chrissy’s going to be buried in Steve’s letterman jacket and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

***

Eddie doesn’t go to school on Monday. He’s too busy rereading the secret admirer notes—the notes Steve Harrington left him—like if he reads them in the right order, it’ll all snap together in his brain in a way that makes fucking sense.

And it does, sort of. It’s like sorting out a bunch of puzzle pieces after finally knowing what the shape of the puzzle even is. Some parts of the letters just jump out of the page, the longer he looks. In the end, he processes this the way he processes everything: he makes a list.

Proof that Steve Harrington is my Secret Admirer:

1. I’m not trying to bully you.

2. I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you.

3. I know you don’t like them, but I like sports.

4. My favorite color is yellow, like the sun, and sunflowers, and all those happy, bright colors.

5. But my eyes? They’re brown, but nowhere near as pretty as yours.

6. I tried playing the piano again, and I’m a little rusty.

7. Do you hate all of them, or just the bullies?

8. You laughed, but it wasn’t your real laugh like when Mr. Danver accidentally said ‘orgasm’ instead of ‘organism’.

A jock afraid of Eddie labeling them as a bully? Check. Favorite color, the same one Steve Harrington had painted his nails all those weeks ago? Check. Rich enough to have a piano that’s just not played? Check. But the most damning part of all: Chrissy was never in Mr. Danver’s class with him last year, but Harrington was. And Chrissy? Her eyes are bright, translucent blue.

The longer he looks at those two incriminating bits of evidence, the stupider he feels. It was never her, and from the looks of it, they hadn’t put much effort into pretending it was. It was always Harrington from that first, forever-lost letter that they’d stuffed in his locker.

And the longer he pours over the letters, the less he can picture Chrissy sprawled on her bed, writing each letter with a shy flourish before spraying it with a puff of her favored scent. No. It’s Harrington, frowning down at the page because words have never come easy to him; it’s Harrington sleeping with Eddie’s letter placed gently beneath his pillow; it’s Harrington who’d made Eddie smile like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

And now that he thinks about it, wasn’t it Harrington whose eye he kept catching from across the cafeteria? Harrington who’d stutter over his words around Eddie, but still told him he was a good storyteller?

Harrington who wanted to go to his show. Chrissy hadn’t even remembered Corroded Coffin’s name.

Harrington had–of course he had.

And he can picture that, too now. Harrington in the crowd in his stupid polo with his bright yellow nail polish, sticking out like a sore thumb in the gruff crowd at the Hideout, beautiful brown eyes trained solely on Eddie.

He can still feel the way his pulse had ratcheted up when they were in the bathroom, Harrington between his spread thighs, palms warm against his tender ribs, sucking all the oxygen out of Eddie’s lungs with how close he was.

It’s too much.

“Hello?” Jeff’s mom sounds curt over the phone, already fed up with Eddie calling before he’s even said anything. Eddie doesn’t care; he can’t when he needs Jeff this badly.

“Can I talk to Jeff?” he cries out, hand shaking around the receiver as he listens to her grumble, but she still shouts for her son to come pick up the goddamn phone.

“Hello?”

Eddie should wait until he’s sure Jeff’s mom is no longer in hearing vicinity, but he can’t, too wound up tight to keep from blurting out, “am I gay?”

There’s a moment of silence that Eddie can barely breathe through before Jeff says, “uhh, Eddie?” in such a bewildered voice that Eddie sort of wants to punch him.

“Yes, yes, it’s me,” he says, words spilling out over each other. “And I’m sorry about what I said, and you’re sorry that you kept secrets from me—we can do that later, Jeff!”

“Uh, oka—”

“Now, am I gay?” he’s panting by the time he’s done, not having taken a single breath during his tirade. He’s waiting for Jeff’s confirmation or denial, but all that comes down the line is his quiet breathing. “Jeff?”

“Uh, shit, we’re doing this? Okay.” Eddie can almost picture the fed-up palm Jeff’s rubbing against his face, as if it’s somehow Eddie’s fault that Jeff is taking so long explaining the squirmy nebulous feeling in Eddie’s gut. “I don’t know man, why do you think you’re gay?”

Then, Eddie does what he should have done all along, and spills everything to Jeff, from the first letter all the way up to Steve Harrington’s bitchy little speech in the quarry as he put himself bodily between Eddie and Jason Carver.

“—and then he kneeled between my knees like that’s a normal, straight guy thing to do and just like, put his hands in my shirt!” Eddie whines, long since having settled onto the cold linoleum of his kitchen floor. “I mean, what the hell?”

“I think you’re forgetting one important fact, dude: Steve’s not straight.”

“Which brings me back to my question!” Eddie replies, trying for breezy and landing on whiny. “Am I gay?”

Jeff hums down the line like he’s really thinking about it this time. “Well, when he was touching you,” he starts, like that already doesn’t have Eddie’s face flaming, “what did you feel?”

Eddie puts himself back into that moment, thighs splayed pressed open by the heavy weight of Harrington’s body, Harrington’s big, warm hands running over his skin, his worried golden brown eyes roving over Eddie’s face.

“I felt like I was on fire,” Eddie whispers, feeling that same heat now pooling lower in his gut.

“…in a good way?” Jeff asks.

Eddie’s brain goes static, full of too much to differentiate good from bad, if that’s a distinction that ever existed at all. Eddie makes a questioning noise in his throat, knees twitching restlessly where they’re crossed in front of him.

“Okay, okay, uhh—hmm,” Jeff hums across the line. “Did you want to move closer or away?”

Eddie closes his eyes and thinks, imagining that trapped, warm, overwhelming feeling of being caged in by Harrington’s body. “Both?”

Jeff hmms again, clearly trying to think it through. Eddie can’t blame him—this is the most confused he’s been in his entire life, and Jeff doesn’t even have an all-access pass to his brain to try to pick answers out of–not that it’s currently doing Eddie much good.

“Do you want to try kissing a guy?” Jeff asks. “I’d do it, if it was for you, dude.”

Eddie’s nose wrinkles, lips puckering in disgust, “ew, you’re like my brother.”

Jeff laughs at him and replies, “so you don’t want to, not because I’m a guy, but because we’re like brothers? Sounds pretty gay, dude.”

“Oh.”

Jeff doesn’t say anything; he’s always been good at sensing when Eddie just needs a minute to think. But this time, he doesn’t think a minute will cut it, so he continues with a, “hey Jeff?”

“Hmm?”

“I really did mean it, you know.” He squeezes the phone tighter against the side of his face, like that will help his sincerity ring down the line. “I am sorry, and we should talk about it, but I can’t yet.”

Jeff still doesn’t reply, but his breathing is steady and sure down the line, settling Eddie’s anxious heart down to a little flutter.

“Is that okay?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, dude,” Jeff replies gruffly. “So, you’ll still call me?”

Eddie smiles. He’s missed Jeff, is the thing. They’ve been so distant lately, and no matter how well Eddie and Gareth get along, he’s no Jeff. “Or accost you at school, whichever comes first.”

That makes Jeff laugh; Eddie lets the sound warm him. “Okay, but I’m serious about the kissing thing!” Jeff replies, “Come over and I can plant one right on y—”

Eddie hangs up on his friend, feeling more himself than he has in days. No matter what happens, he has Jeff.

PART 17

#koko's steddie secret admirer au #steddie #my fic #jeff is the real mvp here putting up with all of eddie's issues #well. him and wayne

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multipleoccupancy · 7 hours ago

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Theo saw Violet's smile fall and he paused, almost frozen as he considered what to say or do to remedy the situation. In the moment he was once again too nervous to reach out to comfort her, something that might have been picked up on in his cautious check of the doorway. Luckily Samantha was there to help and Theo nodded for her words while he watched Violet, sensing there was more there that he wasn't seeing, alarm bells going off as he studied her.

Even with Samantha talking of the last time the pair had met Violet did not smile nor really engage with her. Her only response was a reply into her soup as she tried to hide her face behind the bowl. Feeling a little lost, Theo was again grateful for Samantha's presence as she clearly worked out what was going on while he struggled. Was she blaming herself for what was going on?

"Samantha is right, none of this is on you." He insisted, though he had to think of something else to reassure her other than just his word, he knew he had to get her to follow some sort of verbal path to understand that he didn't blame her at all. She was unfortunately a trigger for him but that too was not her fault. "You were sent there, against your will and made the best of a bad situation as you always try to do. You were invaluable company for me, remember." He drew in a shaky breath because it was so long ago but so very recent too, it made his head spin in thought.

"Something would have triggered it, I imagine it would have been much worse if you hadn't told me and I remembered anyway." His eyebrows dropped into a small frown as he thought about what might have happened if he had been away on a mission with such a revelation. Really, he was fortunate in his circumstances. "It's better this way," he tried to voice that train of thought without really explaining it. "I'm safe at home." Though he didn't sound all that convinced it was again just a matter of jumbled delivery of his tone.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"I wanted to help," explained Violet, blushing a little bit, because surely her dad knew that she always got restless around the house when she was trying to ignore what was going on in her mind. She smiled at his thanks.

But her face fell at his response. Her dad wasn't feeling better. She immediately blamed herself for looking so defeated, but she couldn't find it in herself to smile again. "Your dad just needs time," chimed in Samantha with a gentle voice, "but you're helping a lot, Violet." Oh, how she wanted to believe that she was helping. But it was also her fault if her dad was so rattled. She had broken something inside him, and what if he could never fix it?

"We met before, but we didn't have much time to talk," said Samantha, giving Violet a friendly wink. Violet tried to smile, but she just couldn't. She took a sip of soup instead. Even her father's thanks didn't seem to cheer her up.

"You don't have to thank me," she replied, her eyes planted on her soup, before taking another sip, mostly to hide her face behind the bowl.

While Samantha agreed that no thanks were needed, she could tell this was not the issue. "None of this is your fault, Violet. Anything can trigger repressed memories; there is no controlling them. Even if you hadn't told your dad you were Mauve, something else would have brought back his memories eventually."

#hvbris #killian #violet #asoue au #Samantha

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thedensworld · 2 days ago

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Talk the Stalker | C.Sc

Pairing: celebritySeungcheol! x celebrityReader!

Genre: fluff

Summary: Seungcheol is obsessed with you, he loves you and he would do anything to protect you.

Note: i'm obsessed, addicted, and drowned in his pretty smile! Happiness suit him sfm!

Seungcheol's hand was warm as it held yours tightly while the two of you entered the restaurant. He had already noticed two or three cameras tailing him outside, snapping pictures of the two of you together. He paid them no mind—your relationship was public anyway, and he was too used to the attention to care. Right now, all that mattered to him was making sure you were okay.

This restaurant was your favorite, a haven you always turned to when your appetite disappeared—which had happened again today. He had picked you up from the shooting set after a long day. You had texted him earlier, letting him know you’d be working from afternoon until late evening. Coincidentally, his own schedule had wrapped up at the same time, so he decided to spend the night with you.

"Can we grab something first? I think I’m gonna pass out," you muttered the moment you slid into his car.

Seungcheol sighed deeply, already anticipating this. You hadn’t eaten, had you? His mind pieced together the puzzle: you probably woke up barely two hours before your schedule, rushed to get ready, spent an hour commuting, and then worked the entire day without a single meal. The thought of it frustrated him—he had been through similar habits in the past, too busy to eat. But seeing you, the love of his life, neglecting yourself like this made his chest ache. Without a word, he drove the two of you straight to your go-to spot.

While you disappeared to the restroom, Seungcheol took the liberty of ordering your usual meal. When you returned, he waved you over, pulling the chair beside him. As you sat down, his hand instinctively reached for your back, rubbing soothing circles to ease the tension he imagined must be building there.

"How’s your back? Still hurt?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with concern.

You had injured yourself three months ago during a stunt for an action film—a brutal fall onto your back that had left you with a dislocated shoulder and lingering pain. While everything had seemed fine recently, yesterday’s severe backache brought the worries flooding back for both of you.

"Stop making me worry, could you?" Seungcheol sighed when you gave him a soft chuckle, clearly trying to downplay the issue. "Sometimes I wonder how your fragile body even handles all those stunts," he added, shaking his head.

“Fragile?” you scoffed, lightly smacking his arm. “I work out, thank you very much.”

He lifted your arm with a smirk, inspecting it playfully. “This slender little arm trying to punch a stuntman? I’m not worried about them; I’m worried about you.”

“Shut up,” you muttered with a grin, making Seungcheol laugh.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. His tone softened as he said, “That’s why you need to stop getting hurt, okay? I know how much you love your job, but if you want to do it for a long time, you have to take care of yourself.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his words. It was something you always told him whenever he pushed himself too hard. “Stealing my lines now?” you teased, and he chuckled warmly.

After dinner, you suggested taking a walk. Seungcheol hesitated, asking if you were too tired, but you insisted. He figured you must’ve missed him more than you were letting on, and the thought filled him with a fluttery warmth he couldn’t quite explain.

As the two of you strolled down the quiet street, the chill of the night air began to creep in. Seungcheol noticed you shivering and immediately shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased with a playful smile, and he let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” Seungcheol said shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up at him, your lips curling into a smile as you clung to his arm. “Anything?” you challenged with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Would you kill someone for me?”

Seungcheol’s brows furrowed, though his lips twitched with amusement. “Not to that scale. Know your place!” he shot back, earning a soft laugh from you.

"Are you happy with me?" Seungcheol’s voice broke the comfortable silence as he reached for your hand, holding it firmly before swinging it lightly, a playful gesture to get your attention. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and you couldn’t help but smile at the warmth radiating from him.

You nodded eagerly, the sincerity in your expression clear. "I think you’re one of the very few people who can make me this happy," you admitted, your words filled with genuine affection.

His brows furrowed almost immediately, and he stopped walking, a playful pout forming on his lips. "I’m not the only one?" he asked, feigning offense.

You chuckled, amused by his theatrics. "Know your place," you teased, leaning closer as a mischievous grin spread across your face.

His pout melted into a radiant smile, his dimple making a brief appearance. "I was kidding earlier, babe," he said softly, though his playful tone lingered as he began walking backward to face you, still holding your hand securely in his.

Seungcheol's gaze lingered on you, his eyes warm and filled with adoration. After a moment, he raised a brow and asked, “Can I stay the night?” The flirty tilt of his tone made you raise yours in mock disbelief.

“Isn’t this the first time you’re actually asking?” you questioned, suppressing a laugh as you tilted your head.

He nodded, chuckling at your amused expression. “I know, I know. I must be the worst boyfriend, huh? I never ask for consent, I won’t kill anyone for my girlfriend, and to top it all off, I make fun of her slender arms.”

You gasped in mock outrage and raised your hand to playfully slap his arm, but he anticipated it and bolted ahead, laughter echoing through the quiet park near the restaurant. The chase was on, and you found yourself running after him, your laughter mingling with his in the cool night air.

That night, before heading home, the park became your private playground, filled with stolen moments of joy and carefree laughter. You hoped, for both your sakes, that no paparazzi managed to capture the scene.

You entered your apartment, Seungcheol trailing behind you. Though it wasn’t as luxurious or spacious as Seungcheol’s place, it carried a charm he adored—you. Every corner of your home was filled with your scent, your presence, and your personality. To him, it wasn’t just a place—it was a sanctuary, his sanctuary.

“Home sweet home,” you muttered, kicking off your shoes. Seungcheol smiled, watching as you settled in, your energy shifting into the comfort of your space.

As usual, Jibby, your orange tabby cat, sauntered over to greet you, his tail flicking lazily behind him. The cat had been your loyal companion ever since you rescued him on a shooting set two years ago. Predictably, Jibby ignored Seungcheol entirely, keeping his amber eyes locked on you with unwavering devotion.

“Still no love for me, huh?” Seungcheol joked, crouching to scratch Jibby behind the ears, only to receive a flick of the tail in return. “This cat’s got some serious attitude.”

You chuckled, picking up Jibby and holding him close. “He’s selective. He knows who pays the rent around here.”

As you placed Jibby back on the floor, you noticed strands of his fur scattered everywhere. “Oh, Jibby! Your fur’s everywhere!” you exclaimed, brushing some off your pants.

Seungcheol nodded in agreement, crouching to inspect the floor. “It’s not even summer, and he’s already shedding like crazy. You think he’s stressed?”

Your face filled with concern as you knelt beside Jibby, running your hands gently over his fur. “Oh no, Jibby. What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”

Before you could continue, Jibby let out a loud, startling meow, making both you and Seungcheol jump. The sound was completely out of character—Jibby was always a calm and quiet cat.

“That’s...new,” Seungcheol said, frowning. “I’ve never heard him meow like that before.”

Your concern deepened, and as if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Opening it, you found your building’s security guard standing there. “Sorry to bother you,” he said, his tone apologetic. “We got a report from your neighbor. They said your cat’s been meowing loudly for hours. Is everything okay?”

You turned back to Jibby, the worry evident in your eyes. “I don’t know,” you admitted, stroking his fur as he let out another sharp meow. “I think something’s wrong.”

That night, sleep was the last thing on your mind. You stayed up with Jibby, trying to comfort him as his restless meows continued. Seungcheol, sensing how stressed you were, insisted on staying over. When he saw how exhausted you looked around 3 a.m., he gently took over, cradling Jibby in his arms while you rested on the couch.

By dawn, it was clear Jibby needed professional care. “I’ll take him to the vet,” Seungcheol offered, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve got an early schedule, and I can handle this.”

You hesitated, guilt flickering in your eyes. “Are you sure? You’ve already—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, giving you a reassuring smile. “Jibby’s family. And family takes care of each other.”

As you watched him gently place Jibby into the carrier, whispering soothing words to the stressed cat, you felt a swell of gratitude and love for the man who had seamlessly woven himself into your life—and Jibby’s too.

The next day, Seungcheol received a call from the vet. The feline, Jibby, was missing home and showing signs of increased stress. Hearing this, Seungcheol couldn’t help but worry. You were out of town for a shooting schedule and wouldn’t be back until the next day, so Seungcheol decided to take matters into his own hands. He asked his manager to help him pick up Jibby from the vet, determined to make the cat feel better.

Driving to your apartment with Jibby in the passenger seat was no small task. The cat meowed incessantly, his cries echoing through the car. Seungcheol tried speaking to him in the same soft, soothing tone he had heard you use countless times. “Hey, buddy, we’re going home. You’ll feel better soon, I promise,” he said, glancing over at Jibby. But his attempts were futile; the cat’s distress didn’t subside, and Seungcheol found himself understanding your concern on a much deeper level.

Once they arrived, Seungcheol texted you: “Jibby’s home safe now. Don’t worry, I’ve got him.”

He set down Jibby’s carrier, opened it, and placed some food in the bowl. He watched as the cat cautiously stepped out, sniffing around before beginning to eat. Gradually, Jibby seemed to relax.

Seungcheol didn’t turn on the lights, thinking it might overwhelm Jibby. Instead, he opened the curtains slightly, letting the moonlight bathe the room in a soft glow. Leaning back on the couch, he kept an eye on the cat, who finally settled beside him.

“You finally opened up to me, huh, Jibby?” Seungcheol murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. It felt like a small victory to earn even a fraction of the cat’s trust.

Suddenly, the sound of the passcode being entered broke the serene moment. Seungcheol sat up, his body tensing. You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow. Who could it be?

The door creaked open, and a shadowy figure in a hoodie stepped inside. Jibby’s demeanor shifted instantly; he bolted toward the figure, his fur standing on end as he hissed and meowed angrily.

Seungcheol’s heart pounded as he rose from the couch, flipping on the lights. “Who are you?” he barked, his voice filled with authority. The intruder froze for a second before bolting for the door.

Not wasting a moment, Seungcheol dashed after him. The man was just reaching the emergency exit when Seungcheol grabbed him by the hoodie and shoved him against the wall with a force that came from pure adrenaline.

“Who are you?!” Seungcheol growled, his voice dangerously low as he pressed the man harder against the wall, preventing any chance of escape. “Why are you here? Why do you know my girlfriend’s passcode?”

The intruder struggled, but Seungcheol’s grip was unyielding. The hours he’d spent learning jiu-jitsu were finally paying off. His sharp eyes scanned the area until he spotted a CCTV camera. Without hesitation, he dragged the man into its view, ensuring the footage would capture everything.

Jibby followed, his meows loud and furious as if scolding the man himself. The cat even swiped at the intruder’s legs, his claws adding to the chaos.

Moments later, two security guards arrived, their faces a mix of concern and confusion. “What’s going on here?” one of them asked.

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened as he explained, his voice steady but laced with anger. “This guy broke into my girlfriend’s apartment. He knew her passcode. I caught him before he could get away.”

The guards immediately restrained the man, apologizing profusely to Seungcheol. “We’ll handle this. Thank you for acting quickly, sir,” one of them said as they led the intruder away.

Seungcheol stood tall in front of the man sitting tied to the chair in the dimly lit security room. The sight of him was sickening. Moments earlier, Seungcheol had watched the CCTV footage of this guy sneaking into your apartment multiple times in recent days. A wave of anger surged through him as he pieced things together. Was this the reason Jibby had been so stressed lately?

Seungcheol’s hand instinctively went to rub Jibby, who sat calmly in his arms, a stark contrast to the turmoil bubbling inside him. The cat, ever so loyal, seemed to sense his unease.

The man muttered something under his breath, barely audible. “I’m just a fan…”

Seungcheol’s blood boiled at those words. He stepped closer, his voice sharp and unwavering. “No fan should do this. You’re not a fan—you’re a criminal!” He clenched his fists, the urge to lash out barely held in check.

The security guards standing nearby intervened, stepping between Seungcheol and the intruder. “Sir, please, the cops are on their way. We need your cooperation,” one of them said firmly, trying to de-escalate the situation.

But Seungcheol wasn’t ready to let it go. He glared at the man, his voice dripping with contempt. “What did you do? Did you plant a camera or something? Huh?” He leaned in, his intense gaze locking on the man, pressing him for answers.

The intruder hesitated, his eyes darting nervously before he gave a reluctant nod. That was all it took. Rage exploded in Seungcheol as he handed Jibby to a nearby guard before grabbing the man by his collar.

“You sick—” Seungcheol growled, but before he could finish or act on his anger, the security team pulled him back, their firm grip reminding him to maintain control.

“Mr. Choi, we’ve got this. Let us handle it,” one of the guards reassured him.

Seungcheol’s chest heaved as he let go, glaring daggers at the man who cowered in the chair.

Seungcheol stormed out of the security room, his frustration bubbling over as he marched toward the head of security standing nearby.

“How did this even happen?” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tense atmosphere. “Your job is to protect her and everyone in this building. Do you even realize how badly you’ve failed?”

The head of security looked uneasy but tried to maintain composure. “Sir, we’re investigating the breach—”

“Investigating?” Seungcheol scoffed, his voice rising. “This isn’t some minor mistake! That man entered her home multiple times, and you didn’t notice? What if she had been home alone? Can you guarantee what that bastard could’ve done to her?” His voice cracked slightly at the end, the thought of you in danger overwhelming him.

“Mr. Choi, I assure you—”

“No!” Seungcheol cut him off, stepping closer. “You can’t assure me of anything. You couldn’t even keep a stranger out of her home! She trusted this place to be safe, and you let her down.”

The head of security hesitated, clearly struggling to respond, as Seungcheol continued. “Do you know how terrified she’ll be when she finds out? Do you know how hard she works, how much she sacrifices, only to come home to this?”

Taking a deep breath, he added, “I don’t care what it takes—double the patrols, update your system, install better cameras, do something. Because if this happens again, I swear, there’ll be hell to pay.”

The head of security nodded quickly. “Understood, Mr. Choi. We’ll prioritize this immediately. I’ll personally oversee the updates and report back.”

Turning on his heel, Seungcheol made his way back to your apartment with Jibby settled on his arms. As he entered, he set Jibby down gently and sighed, his heart still racing. His protective instincts were on overdrive, and all he wanted was to make sure you were safe.

He sent you another text:

“Call me when you can.”

Seungcheol leaned back on the couch, his gaze shifting to Jibby, who was curled up on the carpet, seemingly calm after the ordeal. The sight of the cat, finally at ease, should’ve been comforting, but it wasn’t.

The thought of leaving you and Jibby alone in this apartment, even for a second, made his stomach twist. He sat forward, rubbing his temples as his mind raced. “I can’t just leave you here,” he muttered, as if Jibby could understand.

Decision made, Seungcheol stood and began gathering a few of Jibby’s essentials. He packed the cat’s food, a couple of toys, and the small bed you’d bought for him. Jibby tilted his head curiously, his tail flicking as he watched Seungcheol move around.

“You’re coming with me, buddy,” Seungcheol said softly, crouching down to scratch behind Jibby’s ears. “At least until we know this place is safe again. No arguments, okay?”

Jibby responded with a low purr, and Seungcheol took it as agreement.

"Why is he in your place?" you asked, your laughter spilling through the phone as you watched Jibby sprawled comfortably beside Seungcheol on his couch. His home looked warm and inviting in the dim lighting, and even through the screen, you could see how relaxed Jibby seemed.

Seungcheol smiled at your reaction, his voice softening. "Jibby feels at home here. I think he loves my place. Isn’t that right, Jibby? You want to live here with me?"

As if on cue, Jibby let out a soft meow and snuggled closer into Seungcheol’s arm, his orange fur brushing against Seungcheol’s sweater. You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I left him with you for one day, and now you two are best friends? This is betrayal," you teased, though your heart warmed at the sight of them together.

Seungcheol laughed, patting Jibby gently on his back. "Oh, it’s not betrayal. He actually loves me—he just doesn’t want to make you jealous."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. "Sure, sure. Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me he’s moving in with you."

Seungcheol tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Actually, I was thinking you both could. I mean, look at him. He’s practically claimed my couch already."

Your laugh turned into a soft sigh. "Babe, you’re joking, right?"

"Am I?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone playful but his expression growing serious. "Think about it. Jibby clearly loves it here. My place is bigger and you wouldn’t have to worry about leaving him when you’re out for work. Plus..."—his voice softened—"I’d get to see you every day."

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the earnestness in his words. "Baby, are you actually suggesting I move in with you?"

"Why not?" He shrugged, but the hopeful look in his eyes betrayed how much he meant it. "It makes sense. Jibby’s happy here, and I’d feel better knowing you’re both safe. You can have your own space, do things your way. No pressure, but... I’d really like it if you were here."

Your gaze shifted to Jibby, who was now fully sprawled out on Seungcheol’s lap, purring softly. The sight was oddly comforting, and you couldn’t deny how much you missed Seungcheol already, even though you’d only been apart for a day.

"I don’t know," you said hesitantly, though your voice wavered with the idea already taking root in your mind. "It’s a big step."

Seungcheol leaned closer to the camera, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Big steps aren’t so scary when you’re not taking them alone, you know. Just think about it, okay?"

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you nodded, unable to suppress the smile that crept onto your face. "I’ll think about it."

Seungcheol grinned, the kind of grin that made your chest feel warm. "Good. Jibby and I will be waiting."

The sight of him and Jibby, so at ease together, made you wonder if moving in wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.

End.

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jayparked · 1 day ago

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well done <33 can i please ask for 68 and hee?

"i'm sorry...what?" heeseung leans forward, eyebrows knit tightly together in confusion.

"you heard me."

"no! i don't think i did!" scoffing with a nervous chuckle, heeseung stands up from the chair in your room and places both hands on top of his head, pacing back and forth.

"please heeseung i hate being so inexperienced. no one has let me do it before so please just let me do it once. i swear it won't change anything with our friendship."

heeseung can't believe what you're saying, genuinely cannot believe what the hell you are talking to him about. he's been your friend since middle school and now that you're in your second year of college the friendship seems pretty set in stone for life.

"say it again," he mumbles, now turning to face you.

"let me ride you."

"fuck...alright. but you're stupid if you think this won't change anything so i hope you're sure about this." truth is, heeseung has been trying to get over the fact that he's been in love with you since the first day you two met. only recently did he finally feel like he was making progress and even contemplated the idea of seriously pursuing this one person who was dropping major hints they are into him (it's the barista at his college campus. they leave their number on heeseung's cup every single day with cute messages and doodles).

but you just had to ask him this, something he would never be able to refuse.

minutes pass in a blur and suddenly both of your clothes are off and heeseung is laying on his back, on hand behind his head as he tries to get a good look at you without completely ogling.

you get on the bed and straddle his hips, careful not to lower yourself on his hardened cock. you wish you had a few more moments to just stare at it, completely thrown off with the length and girth your best friend has been packing this whole time. the thought of that going inside you is exhilarating and terrifying.

once you look into your best friends eyes though and see all the feelings he's tried to hide all these years, you don't hesitate and take the plunge. the way he stretches your walls has you gasping outloud, having to rock your hips back and forth slightly to try and help the stretch.

"ah...oh yeah, y/n, fuck you're so tight." heeseung's hands are on your waist but his eyes are on your chest. with a quick eyeroll you grab his hands and place them where his eyes were.

"you don't know how many times i've dreamed of this happening," he whispers.

with a laugh you reply with a simple, "me too," your stomach fluttering when you see the shocked look on his face. heeseung opens his mouth to say something, but you're fully sheathed on him now and immediately put your hand on his chest to stable you as you grind your hips against his crotch. all that comes out of heeseung's mouth for the next few moments is a slough of swear words, praises, and "i can't believe we've never done this before"'s. and once he's coming undone underneath you all he can ask is if you can do that again exactly how you did it before, because fuck that felt so good and he needs it tattooed into his memory.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

#tysmmmm #jayparked 1k drabble event #heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #heeseung x y/n #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n

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hard-core-super-star · 2 days ago

Text

brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.

That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive.

The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.

Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.

It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.

(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)

You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.

Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.

She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.

Well, except because you really missed Wanda.

Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.

Your bed.

That was the second thing Natasha made you learn.

Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.

That was the third thing you learned.

Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.

It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.

You didn't understand how real that was until now.

Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.

You were theirs.

You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.

A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."

"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your grip on me begs to differ."

At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."

It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.

Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.

Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.

After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.

"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."

Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"

You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.

However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.

"Yes, Daddy. I know."

She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"

You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."

Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.

"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.

"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."

"Good. Thank you, Friday."

The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.

"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"

You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.

You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.

In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.

Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.

"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."

You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.

You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.

The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.

"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."

Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.

"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"

"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"

"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."

Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."

The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."

"When are you going to let that go?"

"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."

Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.

Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.

You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.

They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.

Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."

"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

"I'm talking to all of you."

"Nice save, 'Tasha."

"Shut up."

There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.

"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"

You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.

"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.

"I'm guessing this means training's going well."

"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."

The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.

It's far too fun.

"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"

Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.

You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.

Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."

"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.

A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"Oh, I will."

Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.

Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.

Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."

You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.

You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.

Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.

The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.

"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."

"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"

You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.

Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.

"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."

The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.

"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"

"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"

The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.

You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.

"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.

You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.

Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."

Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.

"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."

"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."

"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."

The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."

Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.

"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."

You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.

"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."

Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.

You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.

The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.

They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.

"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."

"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."

That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.

Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.

Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"

Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."

The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.

Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.

"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.

Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"

"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."

"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.

Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"

The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."

You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."

The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding.

Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."

"Don't rush her, little witch."

Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."

A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.

But the Widow really can't help herself.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."

Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.

Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.

Your bed.

With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.

#wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #mommy wanda #avengers fanfiction #marvel fic #mcu imagine #wlw fic #writing

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lizardlicks · 2 days ago

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i can not "this tbh" hard enough. Remember when Emma Watson gave a speech about bringing men into feminism because dismantling the patriarchy benefits everyone?? Remember that was in 2014??? Remember that it was actually working and actively recruiting men away from the manosphere, chan boards and subreddits with the promise that if they hated the game and it made them miserable, men didn't have to play it either?

You can thank a rad fem for the full 180 on that. And no, I'm not exaggerating, most of the movement leaders have gone on record saying that they actively worked to reframe their gender divisive ideology to make it more hip and cool sounding, then methodically went after the younger generation of queers who hadn't yet establised ties or absorbed any of the history-- specifically young wlw-- in the new and fast growing online communities on Twitter and Tumblr.

Radical Feminism is a hold over from the feminism of the 60's through the 80's. While the feminists of that day made massive strides for equality in the work place, it left behind vulnerable populations and didn't make very strong in-roads to cross collaboration, inclusivity, and diversity. It was already considered too ridgid and out of date by the 90's third wave feminist movement, and by the 2010's with the expansion of queer rights and queer visibility in online spaces, while still being at least mostly protected by anonymity, we were making huge in roads towards the idea that feminism was for everyone, and the ultimate antidote to patriarchal power structures. Conversation focused mostly on addressing those structures, how to undermine and dismantle them, how to empower the men in our lives to do that, and to support them in breaking away from it. It's where the idea of toxic masculinity came from: not that being male is toxic, but that there are ways of performing masculinity that are toxic, ways that are healthy and foster community and growth in their lives, and that men could still be manly men without the extra baggage attached. That our spouses, brothers and cousins could do it better than their father's did. That they could get therapy, have have help, and pass something better onto their sons.

I have a lot of cis male friends who I would have described as chest thumping manly men types back in the day, who sat down and had thoughtful conversations, who came out the other side staunchly feminist, far more aware and intentional, and brought that into their friend groups and work places.

If you want to know what happened? We stopped having that conversation. The rad fems were successful, they got into the heads of young fem queers and convinced them to put a wedge into their lives with men.

They even got into the heads of the transfems they hate! Do you know how many fresh hatched eggs I see to this day spouting anti-male propaganda that was originally handed down from TERFs? (Ladies, they're not going to welcome you into the non-existed Secret Inner Magical Sanctum of Womanhood no matter how loudly you scream about men sucking. They don't even do it for most cis women.)

And meanwhile the pewdiepies and Andrew Tates of the world never stopped talking to the men. Who did you think they were going to listen to after getting shut out and shut down?

And if you don't believe me, this blog has existed for over a decade. You can go back into the archive and view posts from 2012. Reblogged a LOT of feminist posts back then because there WERE a lot! Whole reams of queer and feminist theory were being drafted in real time between the people it affected most. You can see the shift especially in 2016 onwards in less and less as we quit being able to have those conversations without a rad fem jumping in and either shifting the narrative or distracting everyone with nonsense and sometimes vile accusations to shut it down completely.

This was calculated and intentional because a handful of people where very pissy that they weren't leading the direction of the conversation in the new online era anymore.

Genuinely, what happened to “feminism is for everyone”?

That’s the feminism I grew up with: encouraging people to recognize that fighting sexism and restrictive gender roles helps folks of every gender. We’d push back on the idea that feminists hate men, pointing to inclusive feminist literature and how many men are feminists.

Now, there are so many people insisting that the solution to patriarchy is to openly hate and ostracize men no matter what. Why? What is the benefit? It’s certainly not effective in fighting oppressive structures to exclude half the population from your cause on the basis of immutable traits. It may feel cathartic to say horrible things about men and try to punish them for your frustrations with patriarchy. But the only actual effect I see is the increasing right-wing radicalization of young men, who are being told that the left hates them for the way they were born and presented with an abundance of proof that it’s true.

Why are we going back to treating men and women as different species? It doesn’t fix things to say “well women are the good gender and men are the bad one” this time. If you sincerely want to dismantle sexism, you’re going to have to unpack and let go of all sex and gender essentialism—even that which considers women inherently pure and men inherently immoral.

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theonottsbxtch · 2 days ago

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PREACHER’S DAUGHTER PT5 | MV1

an: AND WE'RE BACK!! WHO MISSED OUR FAVOURITE LITTLE FAMILY! can't wait to hear what you guys think of this part, i've loved being with them this week, this is a shorter chapter but i've got ideas for what might happen next! lmk if y'all wanna see anything in particular

wc: 3.2k

Theo was four when his parents welcomed his sister, and Max very nearly missed it, if not for Danny.

It had been a normal day at the garage, Max elbow-deep in an engine rebuild, grease staining his hands and his focus entirely on the task at hand. His phone, forgotten on the workbench, buzzed furiously with calls and messages. It wasn’t until Danny came barreling into the shop, panting like he’d just run a marathon, that Max looked up.

“Max! Man, what the hell are you doing?” Danny wheezed, clutching his knees.

Max straightened, wiping his hands on a rag. “Uh, working? What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re dying.”

Danny shot him a glare, pointing accusingly at the phone vibrating incessantly on the workbench. “Your wife is trying to call you! She’s in labour, man! She’s having the baby!”

Max froze, the rag slipping from his fingers. “What?”

“She’s at the hospital! Her aunt’s with her, but you need to move! Now!”

Max’s heart lurched into overdrive. Without a word, he sprinted to the workbench, grabbed his phone, and bolted out the door. “Danny, lock up!” he shouted over his shoulder as he jumped onto his bike.

Danny shook his head, muttering, “You owe me for this one, man.”

Max arrived at the hospital in record time, still in his grease-stained shirt and boots. His wife was mid-contraction when he burst into the room, panting, his face a mixture of guilt and relief.

“You’re here,” she said through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowing slightly before softening at his frazzled appearance.

“I’m here,” he confirmed, rushing to her side and taking her hand. “I’m sorry, angel. My phone was on silent—”

“Save it,” she hissed, squeezing his hand so tightly he thought his bones might break. “You’re here now. Just don’t let go.”

Max didn’t. Not for a second. Hours later, they welcomed a healthy baby girl into the world. Max cried as he held her for the first time, the tiny bundle swaddled in pink resting against his chest. He looked at his wife, her hair damp and her face radiant despite her exhaustion.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re perfect.”

Their daughter, Mary-Ann, came home a few days later to a little house with a white picket fence that they had purchased not long before her birth. It was a modest place, but it was theirs, filled with laughter, love, and the chaos that only a toddler and a newborn could bring.

Theo was adjusting to his new role as a big brother with enthusiasm and curiosity. He followed his parents around, always asking to hold the baby or show her his toys. “She likes dinosaurs, right?” he would ask, clutching his favourite plastic stegosaurus.

“She loves dinosaurs,” Max assured him, grinning as he ruffled Theo’s hair.

Max had seamlessly embraced fatherhood, splitting his time between the garage and his family. He spent his evenings teaching Theo how to kick a football in the back garden and his nights rocking Mary-Ann to sleep.

The house, with its picket fence and flowerbeds lovingly tended by his wife, was the picture of the life Max had never imagined for himself. Yet, here he was, living it and loving every moment.

The day of Mary-Ann’s baptism dawned clear and bright, the kind of perfect day that made everything feel just a little more magical. Their little family was dressed in their Sunday best, Theo proudly wearing a bowtie that his mother had wrestled him into after much negotiation, and Mary-Ann bundled in a delicate white christening gown.

They arrived at the church to find her aunt, Danny, and a few close friends waiting for them, just as they had for Theo’s baptism years ago. Her aunt immediately swooped in to coo over Mary-Ann, her face soft with affection.

“She’s the spitting image of you at this age,” her aunt said warmly, brushing a soft curl away from Mary-Ann’s forehead.

“Let’s hope she doesn’t inherit my teenage rebellion,” she joked, glancing at Max, who chuckled.

The service itself was intimate and beautiful. As the pastor spoke, Theo sat on Max’s lap, squirming occasionally but staying quiet enough to earn whispered praise from both his parents. When it came time for the baptism, Max and his wife stood together at the front of the church, Theo holding onto his mother’s hand while Max held Mary-Ann close.

The pastor asked Theo if he wanted to say anything, and the boy puffed out his chest importantly, his tiny voice ringing out through the quiet chapel. “We’re all gonna be... um... part of Chris-tain-ity now!”

There was a soft chuckle from the congregation, but Theo frowned, frustrated by his own mispronunciation. His brows knitted together, and before anyone could stop him, he muttered under his breath, “Damn it.”

Max’s head snapped around, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at his son. “Where did you hear that, Theo?”

Without hesitation, Theo turned and pointed to Danny, who froze mid-grin. “Uncle Daddy says it all the time.”

The entire room dissolved into laughter, but Max’s expression darkened. “His name is Uncle Danny. Not Daddy,” he corrected firmly. He handed Mary-Ann to his wife with exaggerated care and then fixed Danny with a dangerous look. “Uncle Danny also has five seconds to run.”

Danny’s eyes widened as he stammered, “Now, hold on a second—”

“Five.”

Danny bolted toward the back of the church, nearly tripping over a pew. Max didn’t miss a beat, stepping around the altar and charging after him. Theo laughed hysterically as he watched his father chase Danny out the door, and his mother shook her head, trying to stifle her own giggles.

When Max returned a few minutes later, slightly winded but victorious, Danny trailing behind him with a sheepish grin, the ceremony continued. The pastor, who had been struggling to keep a straight face, resumed his blessing, and little Mary-Ann was baptised without further incident.

As they left the church, Theo clung to Max’s hand, his face lit with excitement. “Daddy, can I chase Uncle Danny next time?”

Max ruffled his hair, smirking. “Not until you’re faster than me, kid.”

The two of them loved the life they had built together and sometimes when Max woke up he had to pinch himself. Just under half a decade ago he was eating dry hotdogs and drinking stale beers in a rundown trailer. Now he was helping his wife. His wife. In the kitchen with his two kids. Not one, two. Max was a father and everyday he woke up he couldn’t really believe. it.

The smell of cinnamon and vanilla wafted through the house as she stood at the counter, carefully icing a tray of perfectly golden cupcakes. Mary-Ann was nestled in her baby chair nearby, happily chewing on a soft toy, and the kitchen felt like the warm, beating heart of their home.

Out in the garage, Max had Theo standing on a small step stool by the workbench, his tiny hands gripping a wrench that was far too big for him. Max crouched beside him, guiding his hands as they worked on an old oil pan together. Theo giggled every time Max made a joke, his high-pitched laughter filling the air.

She wiped her hands on her apron, grabbed a glass of iced tea, and wandered outside to watch her boys. Leaning against the doorframe, she crossed her arms and smiled. “Teaching him how to change oil already? He’s four, Max.”

Max turned, his grease-streaked face lighting up when he saw her. “Hey, never too early to learn the basics, right, buddy?”

Theo nodded enthusiastically, smearing a streak of oil across his cheek as he waved the wrench triumphantly. “Mama, I’m helping!”

“I can see that,” she laughed, walking over and kissing the top of his messy hair.

As her gaze wandered around the garage, it landed on their old motorbike, tucked into the corner, its polished chrome gleaming even in the dim light. Her smile turned into a smirk, and she gestured toward it with her glass. “You know, you’re going to have to sell that death trap.”

Max froze mid-laugh, a look of horror crossing his face. “What? No way. We’ve got so many memories with that bike.”

“We have two kids now, Max.”

He frowned, standing up and crossing his arms. “But what if Theo wants it when he grows up?”

She raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on her hip. “He’s not stepping a foot on that thing.”

Max threw his hands up in exaggerated protest. “Oh, so when it’s us, it’s fine, but when it’s Theo, it’s a problem?”

She grinned, completely unbothered. “Yup.”

Before he could argue further, Danny strolled into the garage, a familiar plastic container in hand. “Alright, where’s the good stuff? I heard there’s baking going on in that kitchen, and you know the deal—Danny gets dibs.”

She laughed, pointing toward the house. “I’ll bring you some in a second. Just made a fresh batch.”

As Danny leaned against the workbench, Max glanced at him, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey, Danny, you wanna buy that death trap over there?”

Danny raised an eyebrow, glancing at the bike. “How much are we talking?”

Max grinned. “Fifty bucks.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

Max smirked, holding out a hand. “You buy it, but I still get to use it whenever I want.”

Danny laughed, shaking his head but reaching out to shake Max’s hand anyway. “You got yourself a deal, man.”

Max turned to her with a triumphant grin, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans. “See? It’s sold. Problem solved.”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head but smiling as she headed back into the house. “You two are impossible.”

As she disappeared into the kitchen, Max knelt back down beside Theo, who looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.

“Daddy, what’s a death trap?”

Max chuckled, ruffling his hair. “It’s something fun that your mom doesn’t like.”

From the kitchen, she called out, “I heard that!”

While she packed up some of her baked goods for Danny she too thought of how lucky she was. How all her prayers had been listened to. How she finally made it out of that house. How she was going to witness all her own kid’s life milestones with joy and love, not hatred and jealousy.

The morning of Theo’s first day of school, the sunlight streamed through the windows as the family bustled to get ready. Theo stood proudly in his brand-new school uniform, his backpack almost as big as he was. Mary-Ann, her curls tied up in tiny pigtails, was toddling around in her nursery outfit, clutching her stuffed bunny like it was her lifeline.

Their mother, however, was a whirlwind of emotions. She double-checked Theo’s lunchbox for the third time and nearly forgot to zip Mary-Ann’s coat, all while blinking back tears.

“I can’t believe they’re both going,” she murmured, her voice trembling as she fixed Theo’s collar for the tenth time.

Max, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee, tried to hide his grin. “Sweetheart, they’re not moving out. It’s just school and nursery.”

She shot him a glare. “Don’t start with me today, Max.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Come here, buddy,” he said, crouching down to Theo’s level. “You ready for your big day?”

Theo nodded, his little chest puffed out. “I’m gonna make so many friends!”

Max ruffled his hair. “That’s my boy. And you,” he added, turning to Mary-Ann and lifting her into his arms. “You take care of those nursery teachers, alright? Show ‘em who’s boss.”

Mary-Ann giggled, planting a slobbery kiss on his cheek.

After a bittersweet drop-off that left her sniffling the entire car ride home, they returned to their now eerily quiet house. For the first time in years, it was just the two of them.

She walked into the living room, glanced at the toys still scattered around, and sighed heavily, sinking into the couch. “It’s too quiet.”

Max sat beside her, pulling her into his side. “I told you this morning was gonna hit you hard.”

She swatted his chest lightly. “It’s just… I’ve never been in the house without one of them here. It’s so empty.” She buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled. “What if they need me? What if Mary-Ann gets scared? Or Theo forgets his lunch?”

Max chuckled softly, rubbing her back. “Sweetheart, Theo’s got this. The kid’s practically running for class president. And Mary-Ann? She’s gonna have the nursery wrapped around her finger before lunch.”

She peeked at him from behind her hands, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You think so?”

“I know so.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple.

For a moment, she leaned into him, letting the comfort of his presence soothe her. But the silence of the house pressed in again, making her sigh.

Max pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know, we’ve got the house all to ourselves now.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Max…”

He grinned, running his fingers lightly up her arm. “I’m just saying. We’ve got a whole empty house and a few hours of peace.”

Despite herself, she laughed, smacking his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m practical,” he countered, leaning closer. “We might never get this chance again, angel. Think about it.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. “I can’t believe you’re suggesting this right now.”

“I’m just trying to make the most of the quiet,” he teased, his hand slipping around her waist. “And besides, you’re way too stressed. Let me help you relax.”

She laughed despite herself, the weight of the morning momentarily forgotten as he kissed her neck, his stubble tickling her skin.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured, tilting her head to meet his lips, her heart finally feeling a little lighter.

And if she counted the exact weeks, that day was how she ended up pregnant with her third and final child.

Nine months later, their family grew again with the arrival of a boy they named Daniel. It was a tribute to Danny, their ever-reliable friend who had, over the years, become less like a buddy and more like an honorary member of the family.

Daniel came into the world with a loud cry and a shock of dark hair, immediately staking his place in the chaos of their household. Mary-Ann, now three and brimming with sass, had proudly declared herself the "boss" of her new baby brother. She often toddled around after him, dragging her favourite stuffed bunny in one hand and fussing over Daniel like a miniature mother.

Theo, at five, took his role as the eldest sibling very seriously. He loved showing off to Mary-Ann and anyone who’d listen about how he could hold his baby brother “without dropping him” (a feat Max closely supervised with a hovering hand). Theo also began peppering Max with endless questions about how cars worked, proudly announcing that he’d take over the garage one day.

The house was louder now, bursting with life and love in every corner. Daniel’s cries, Theo’s endless chatter, and Mary-Ann’s theatrical storytelling meant there was never a dull moment.

Max had learned to juggle bottles, bedtime stories, and car repairs, often collapsing into bed with her at the end of the day, marvelling at the whirlwind their life had become.

On quieter days—though “quiet” was a stretch—she’d watch Max play with the kids in their backyard. Mary-Ann would climb all over him, Theo would ask a million questions about the engine of a toy car, and baby Daniel would sit in his lap, chewing on whatever he could grab.

Sunday mornings had become a cherished tradition for her. Dressing Theo in his little button-up shirts, coaxing Mary-Ann into tights and her favourite frilly dress, and cradling baby Daniel in his soft onesie all felt like sacred rituals. She loved sharing her faith with her children, teaching them the hymns, and watching their faces light up during Sunday school.

But as much as she loved church, there was always a weight to bear. Her parents still attended the same church, their presence lingering like a spectre of the past. While most of the congregation had embraced her family with warmth, her parents had not. They’d sit on the far side of the pews, casting disapproving glares, and every so often, there were whispers—cutting, cruel words spread by those who believed her parents' version of events.

Still, she focused on her children. Theo beamed when he memorised Bible verses, Mary-Ann proudly showed off her colouring pages, and baby Daniel giggled at the choir. Sharing this part of her life with them felt like reclaiming something pure.

That afternoon, the church hosted a children’s Bible study, and she stayed to help with crafts and snacks while Max wrangled the baby. Daniel was perfectly content napping on his dad’s chest while Max sat in the corner, earning approving glances from the other parents for his patience and attentiveness.

As they packed up to leave, her father appeared, stepping out of the shadows like a storm cloud. His eyes were cold, his expression a mask of disdain. He walked past her, close enough that she could feel the venom in his whispered word:

"Whore."

The word cut through her like a knife. She froze, her heart pounding, the air sucked out of the room. Before she could even react, Max’s voice broke the moment.

"Angel, hold Daniel."

She turned to him, startled, as he handed her the baby with a calmness that belied the fire in his eyes. Then, without hesitation, Max spun on his heel and marched toward her father.

The sound of Max’s fist connecting with her father’s jaw was thunderous in the quiet room. Her father staggered back, clutching his face, as gasps rippled through the remaining churchgoers.

Max stood tall, his voice steady but cold. “Don’t you ever call my wife that again. You lost any right to speak to her the day you hurt her and abused your power. She’s a better person than you’ll ever be.”

Her father glared up at Max, but he didn’t dare rise. The weight of his disgrace was palpable as the onlookers murmured, their judgement no longer directed at her but at the man who had insulted his own daughter in a house of worship.

She stood rooted to the spot, Daniel cradled in her arms, her cheeks flushed. She could feel every eye in the room on her, but the only one that mattered was Max’s. He turned back to her, his expression softening, and strode toward her.

Max placed a gentle hand on her back, his touch grounding her. “Let’s go, angel,” he said quietly, his voice carrying none of the anger from moments before.

She nodded, unable to form words, and followed him out, their children close by. As they left the church, she glanced down at Theo and Mary-Ann, both wide-eyed but clutching each other’s hands tightly.

When they got to the car, she took a deep, shaky breath. “Max—”

He cut her off with a kiss to her temple. “Don’t. You don’t owe him anything. Not even your anger.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she leaned into him, Daniel squirming lightly in her arms. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Max tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. “You and these kids are my family. No one, not even him, gets to treat you like that.”

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