#and i have seen them for so many days already

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: 'Sweetheart' ༄࿔ B.C. & Y.J.

⤷ Spit Roasting | Brat Taming  |  Manhandling

♱ word count: ~4k (i dont wanna talk about it.)

♱ warnings: *inhales* fem!reader, threesome, frat leader! Chan and frat boy! Jeongin, reader is a teeny bit of a brat, brat taming, some fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex, light system mentioned but not used, spit roasting/eiffel towering, manhandling, mention of deepthroating, 2 "good girl"s, choking, impact play (1 face slap and like 1 spank), big cock channie AND soft-hard dom channie? (hard to explain but act surprised.), squirting, mention of sharing with other members of the frat (its only the rest of skz in the frat but specifically mean dom minho is named), jeongin films you with his phone and says hes gonna send it to the frat groupchat lol… i think thats it? Idk this was a fever dream

♱ notes: pov: sian getting carried away when she enjoys writing something. also the urge to make this a series is so strong...

mostly proofread, but may be some mistakes/inconsistencies

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

“Y/N… Can you uh…” Jeongin clears his throat and rubs his face with both hands as if trying to keep his composure. “Can I have a cup of water?” You smile and nod, standing on your feet and walking out of your room to get him some water. Once you closed the door behind you, after telling them you’d bring some snacks too, Jeongin looked over to his friend desperately.

“Hyung. I am… not your strongest soldier.” The comment in itself was enough to make Chan burst out laughing, but he tried not to grab too much attention so he chose to snicker into his arm instead.

“Breathe man.” Chan laughed and leaned back on his arms, stretching and taking some breaths himself. “I’m not fairing that well either haha… I don’t think she even realizes what she’s doing.”

The most popular frat’s leader, Chan, and his youngest junior, Jeongin, are in your bedroom. And you, unfortunately, had agreed to tutor them after one long day in the library. They had the other 6 members with them and you were particularly stressed from preparing for a final later that day, so you arguably weren’t very clear-minded when you agreed to it.

Nonetheless, you kept your word and, after exchanging numbers with Chan, you sent them your address as well as a list of what days and times were best. It surprisingly wasn’t hard to find a time that worked for all three of you, and the study date was quickly decided. When the day came and you got a knock on your door and you opened it still in your pajamas, both sides were shocked at what they saw.

They had never seen any skin other than your arms, and sometimes your legs on the rare occasion that you wore a skirt. So when they were met with you in a crop top tank top and short shorts, they felt something awaken in them. Jeongin even more so, considering he had a secret little crush on you that only his frat knew about.

And you were surprised because you had completely forgotten that you agreed to tutor them. But considering they had already seen your outfit, you hadn’t bothered to change out of it. Which ultimately led to your current situation: your notebooks and their textbooks spread across your floor alongside them, with their painful bulges hidden underneath their hoodies.

You return only 15 minutes later with 4 bottles of water and a big plate of bagel bites. Both men drop everything instantly and lunge for the plate, taking it from you to “help” you carry everything, but in reality just so they can demolish the food. You smile and shake your head endearingly, a little too entertained by the childish action.

Through their fiending, Chan still offers you the plate many times and makes sure they leave enough for you to eat as well. Then, once both are satisfied and calmed down a little bit, they allow you to continue the lesson. Everything goes well for another 30 minutes until a slip-up happens with your wardrobe.

Chan notices first, and he feels his fingers twitching when you lean forward to point out something to Jeongin. You slightly lean over him in the process and the hand to hold yourself up rests right beside his thigh. The size difference between his thigh and your hand is enough to make his mind wander, but then he watches very closely as the strap of your tank top slowly falls down your shoulder from the new position.

Jeongin himself feels his own composure completely break at his sight. You leaning close to his face was enough to get him flustered, but the sight of your tank top strap slowly falling makes his cock twitch. Then, as if to add insult to injury, you shift just the slightest amount and your tank top loosens around your torso until it now hovers below your chest, giving him a good view of your tits, and a very slight view of your nipple.

Jeongin’s breath catches in his throat and he snaps his head to his eldest brother. “Hyung..” You hear it and look up at them curiously. The redness in their faces gives away that something happened, but it doesn’t hit you until Chan calls your name breathlessly and tugs at your fallen strap. Both men look at you with dark eyes and you feel your heart skip a beat when you realize that you just flashed 2 members of the most popular frat in the fucking state.

“Uh… Sorry… I didn’t realize-” You quickly fix your posture and your strap, wrapping your arms around your chest and trying to hide it from them. Chan chuckles and looks you up and down, making your face flush even harder.

“It’s ok, baby. But I think we’ve done enough studying today. I think you should help us with something else now.” He leans forward and grabs your arms, tearing them away from your chest and helping you to your feet. He leads you to the bed, leaving Jeongin in awe on the floor left to do nothing but watch the situation unfold.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N-nie…” He starts once he softly pushes you to sit down. He brings one of his veiny hands to your cheek, rubbing his thumb against it soothingly as he talks, “You’ve helped us so much already, but there’s one more thing we both need from you if that’s ok?” His gaze is strong but comforting as he checks for consent, and you find yourself nodding quietly despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Jeongin rises to his feet eagerly, taking a seat next to you and immediately leaning into you, resting his hand on your lower back. He leans into your neck and breathes in the scent of your body wash, sighing into your ear at the way it makes his cock twitch. Chan laughs and uses the hand on your cheek to lean your head to the side for the younger man.

“Help us and we’ll help you, okay baby?” You nod and look up at him under your lashes, moaning quietly from the lips that latch themselves on your neck. “You gotta tell us what you like and don’t like though, yeah?”

“Mkay…” Your eyes flutter shut and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning when Jeongin bites down on your neck, his other hand now resting on your inner thigh and squeezing it.

“Can we be rough with you?” You nod. “Haha… Yeah? Can we smack you around a little too?” Your eyes snap open and you nod eagerly when your eyes meet. He smirks and bites his lip, the hand on your cheek sneaking its thumb into your mouth. He opens his mouth to tell you to suck but moans quietly when you do it on your own.

“Good girl…” His eyes flicker down to Jeongin, and the smile on his face widens when he asks the next question. “Wanna get Eiffel Towered? Jeonginnie here is a bit eager with it, he might fuck you silly, but I’m a little too big for you to take this soon. Don’t wanna hurt you just yet.” He winks at the last sentence and pushes his thumb against your tongue.

When you nod, his body visibly bristles and he removes his finger in favor of tugging at the hem of your shorts, silently asking if he can take them off. You don’t bother replying and just lift your hips, just enough for him to pull them off along with your panties. You gasp when Jeongin’s hand immediately returns to your thigh, this time kneading the fat just an inch or two from where you need them the most.

Chan takes a seat opposite of Jeongin, on the other side of you, and rests his hand on the inner thigh of your other leg. He pulls it apart from the one Jeongin was squeezing and the younger man, despite being distracted with your neck, catches on and spreads you open.

You’re exposed to them both and, for the first time since he sat down, Jeongin releases your neck to take in the sight of your pussy. He sighs to himself and rests his forehead against your temple as he finally trails his fingers higher, ghosting them through your wet folds.

Your legs kick and Chan tightens his grip on your leg when Jeongin immediately sinks two long fingers into your hole, curling them off the bat and overwhelming you in all the right ways. Chan’s hand hooks your leg over his lap and moves to roughly play with your clit as Jeongin starts fingering you. He even leans down, craning his neck to land kisses all over your chest.

He lets up on your clit for just a second so he can tug your tank top under both of your tits, giving him better access. Then, he goes back to rubbing rough circles as his mouth ventures lower to your nipple. Your jaw drops and you lean back on your hands as you let them play with you freely, thoroughly enjoying all the attention.

Your moans are quiet and shaky, egging them on further as they work your body towards an orgasm. Chan is busy harshly sucking your left nipple as Jeongin speaks up for the first time in a while, his breath fanning your neck and making you shiver.

“You look so hot… Does this feel good, honey?” He curls his fingers up, digging his fingertips on the very edge of your g-spot.

“Jeongin… up more please-“ You whine and look at him desperately. He listens and shoves his fingers deeper, now angling them perfectly into your g-spot. You respond by furrowing your eyebrows and throwing your head back with a loud moan.

“Haha. There?”

“Uh-huh…” Chan laughs at your response and removes his fingers from your clit, nudging Jeongin away at the same time. You whine at the loss and fix your neck to look between them. “W-Why?”

Chan doesn’t answer and pulls you to your feet, yanking your tank top over your head. He places a kiss on each of your tits before kissing his way up to your neck, then stopping at your lips where he pushes his onto yours. You start to wrap your hands around his neck only to be spun around and held in place by Jeongin.

Jeongin pulls you into him and bites down on the opposite side of your neck that he had marked earlier as you faintly hear Chan undressing behind you. It’s only then that you notice the hardness pushing against your thigh and the bareness of the man in front of you. You wrap your hand around his dick and stroke him eagerly while he sucks more hickies into your skin.

Once Chan undresses fully, he crawls up your bed and rests on his knees near your pillows. Jeongin glances over at the older man and reluctantly pulls away, turning you back around and shoving you onto your hands and knees on your bed.

You grunt at the roughness but are given no time to react further as Chan drags you up the bed. You come face to face with his cock; hard, veiny, and an angry red. Your jaw drops and you look up at him to see a smirk plastered on his face. Yeah… you need him in you.

“Told you I was big, baby girl.” You whine and wrap your hand around him, placing a kiss on his tip as you revel in the sheer weight of him. “‘M not trying to break you today. Maybe next time, yeah?” You nod and his thumb pulls at your bottom lip. He doesn’t need to say anything else because you obey his command before it even leaves his lips.

Your lips wrap around him as the bed dips behind you, but you’re too enamored by his cock to pay the other man any mind. Chan moans loudly and tangles his fingers in your hair as Jeongin, now kneeling behind you, slides his tip through your folds a few times. “Ready?” He huffs out impatiently, but not wanting to force anything. He gets what he wants as soon as the question leaves his mouth because you push your hips back and grind against him.

The action causes his tip to slip into you for a split second and it’s all it takes for him to lose his composure. He curses and digs his fingers into your hips, holding you in place as he shoves his entire length into you at once. You moan around Chan, making him also moan out at the vibrations of your throat. The hand in your hair tightens as Jeongin finds a frantic pace that also fucks you onto Chan’s cock simultaneously.

It's almost brutal the way Jeongin’s hips slam against yours. Even his balls find a way to smack against your folds and it brings your orgasm even closer than before. Your body is still wound up from them playing with your pussy, and you can’t control the constant clenching it provides to the younger of the two. He moans loudly and his hips stutter at a particularly tight hold from you.

“Shit. You’re clenching me like crazy, honey. Gonna cum already?” Your hand tightens around Chan’s base and you moan around him, nodding as best as you can with him half down your throat.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Your eyes snap up to meet Chan’s and he stares back sternly, eyes narrowing. A whine leaves your throat subconsciously and he immediately shakes his head, standing his ground. The hand in your hair loosens slightly as you pull off of him, and you have to plead through your moans to get your point across.

“Please! I can’t hold it…” His hand leaves your hair completely and grabs onto your chin instead, roughly pulling you up to sit upright.

“I said no, so you’re not allowed to cum yet.”

He squeezes your cheeks and holds you in place as Jeongin’s thrusts speed up. He’s desperate to chase his own orgasm, and he doesn’t spare a thought to your struggle. He’s fucking into you so fast that your eyes flutter open and closed almost constantly. Chan’s eyes stay on your face the whole time, and the second he sees you go slack-jawed, he growls.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” The eager cock constantly pummeling your insides was too much, especially at this new angle, but the sheer anger in his voice made some sick part of you happy, inadvertently cursing you to cum. Quiet grunts follow loud moans as you cum, and Jeongin fucks you through it, using your tightness to milk himself dry.

Chan allowed Jeongin to use you to ride out his orgasm up until the second he pulled out. Then he snatched you from under him and flipped you onto your back under himself. Jeongin laughed somewhere behind you at the aggressiveness and you swore you could hear your heart beating out your ass.

“Something tells me you know about the light system.”

Chan’s face was painted with anger, and you could feel that anger seep into the way he slapped his cock onto your used folds. You stayed quiet, a part of you wondering how far you could push him, and you got the reaction you wanted when his hand came down on your thigh when you still didn’t answer. You gasp and clench around nothing. Then, he waits only a few more seconds until you nod your head repeatedly, giving him the answer he wanted. You try to rise slightly to rest on your elbows, but Chan shoves you backward with a tsk.

“Good. Use it, yeah?”

He sinks himself into you before he can finish his own sentence, and you both hiss at the intrusion. He’s definitely bigger than Jeongin, maybe just as long, but the girth of him is enough to have your head spinning already. Your nails dig into the sheets as he shoves inch by inch into you, not slow enough to let you stretch properly, but slow enough to make you grow impatient. He’s not even bottomed out all the way before he’s stopping. Part of you is thankful because you can already feel him in your stomach, but the other side of you wants it all.

“Baby. Give it a second.” You whine and thrash your head around, doing everything in your power to push yourself back onto him. Chan sighs annoyedly and digs his fingertips into your hips to hold you still. Before he has to move another muscle the bed dips and a set of long fingers tightly squeeze your throat.

“Play nice for Channie, Y/N. It’s one thing to piss him off, but it’s another to piss us both off.” Jeongin leans down to whisper in your ear, but Chan still catches onto it. He also catches onto the way your walls flutter around his cock at the implication, and he realizes what the two of them have gotten into.

“Who would’ve thought the school’s resident good girl is a fucking brat.” He chuckles and talks under his breath. Jeongin snickers to himself and backs his face away to watch Chan plant his hands on either side of your waist in order to lean forward. 

“Aren’t I right? Your little pussy really liked the thought of pissing us both off.”

Your lips turn into a fine line and you look at him incredulously, lips slightly downturned. Then, as if to dig your own grave, your gaze drops from him and you stare off to the right. He follows your gaze curiously and he can feel the vein in his forehead pop out when you find more interest in your ceiling fan. His tongue pokes into his cheek and he digs his hands farther into your mattress.

“Yeah, nah. That’s fine.” His hips reel back and slam forward again, this time forcing the rest of his length into you. Your demeanor falters and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to try and keep quiet. You’re bad at hiding it though, and the way your eyebrows furrow deeper and deeper with each thrust gives you away. Both men laugh at the sight of you struggling to stay defiant, and Jeongin finally loosens his hold on your neck in favor of sneaking that hand down to pinch your nipple.

Chan’s hips are bruising, more so than Jeongin’s, as he doesn’t hesitate to hold back. Now that he has a better idea of what you like, he’s not afraid to give you everything. His movements prove that further as he pulls out almost all the way just to sink in fully, and repeating the action constantly all while going fast enough to render you brainless. 

When that stubbornness finally gives out and your gaze falls between your legs, your whole body shakes at the sight of his thick cock entering your body. Your eyes slowly trail up, taking in the sweat dripping from his stomach and then the redness that has taken over his chest and his neck. Your eyes finally reach his and he smiles at you sinisterly. “You done?” He tilts his head playfully and rolls his hips deeply, making your eyes squeeze closed for a moment.

“Ff… Fuck you.”

His hips come to a stop and you swear you can see his lips twitch.

“Yeah…?” It comes out quiet and alongside a breathy, in disbelief, laugh. Your lips part to say another snarky comment and his hand comes down on your cheek, rendering you speechless. Your body tenses up and you clench tightly around him. He definitely didn’t miss the way you moaned at it either.

“C’mon, pretty. Be good for me.” His hand wraps around your throat and squeezes it tightly, cutting off some of your airflow. It makes your head spin, especially when his hips start moving again. He’s trying to convince you to play nice before he forces you to. But he realizes real quick that it just isn’t working. And you, instead, just furrow your eyebrows and dig your nails into the forearm of the hand that’s choking you. He grunts and releases your neck, this time wrapping both his hands around the underside of your knees. He pushes them up until you’re folded in half and your knees are by your ears.

“Ah! C-Chan!”

“That’s right, baby. Say my name~” Jeongin sits up on his knees and replaces Chan’s hands with his own, using some of his own body weight to hold your legs down. Now that he’s able to use his hands freely, Chan uses the thumb on one of his hands to spread your pussy lips open for him, giving him a better view of his cock splitting you open.

“Shit! Wait you’re- mmmmfuck! You’re too deep, Chan!” Your hands push against his stomach to try and push him out, but he shoves your hands away with his other hand. That same hand comes down on the side of your ass, making Chan sigh dreamily as your walls squeeze him so snuggly.

“This pretty pussy fits me so well baby. Want me to cum inside and make you ours? ‘Wanna be our frat’s pretty little sweetheart?” He moans loudly at the thought, and then once again when you nod and look up at him with teary eyes. Jeongin himself smirks at the thought and hovers his face over yours.

“That bratty little attitude of yours will get fucked out the window, honey. We got a looot of meanies over there. Minho-hyung will have a lot of fun with you.” Your eyes squeeze shut, already knowing who Minho was and hearing stories about how he was in bed. Most girls agree on the same two words: animalistic and straight-up mean.

“I should film Channie-hyung fucking you like this and send it to the group chat. Maybe even tell them we got ourselves a little toy. What do you think, hyung?” You hear the ding of his phone starting a recording and you’re cumming before you realize it; gushing around Chan and causing loud squelching noises to fill the room.

Chan laughs with his chest and his whole body shakes as he cums, his hands squeezing the flesh of your hips as he bottoms out one final time to cum deep inside. He doesn’t need to fuck you through his orgasm thanks to the way your walls continue to clench around him, almost suffocating him with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

You squeal when he finally slides out of you, every vein on his cock making you even more overly sensitive. Jeongin giggles and slides next to you on the bed, pulling you into his chest and running his hands down your back. Chan leans forward and places a kiss on your temple before swiftly leaving the room, stating he’s just going to get a washcloth to clean you off.

“You okay?” Jeongin kisses your neck softly and trails his kisses to the corner of your mouth. You hum and let your eyes become lidded, heavy with exhaustion. He can see it in your face and he coos, “You can sleep. Channie and I will take care of everything.” He smiles sweetly and tucks your hair behind your head, trying to wipe some of the sweat off your forehead too.

You hadn’t planned on any of this happening, but his fingers ghosting along your arms and all over your back are all too convincing as they urge your eyes to close. In seconds, you’re falling asleep to the feeling of Jeongin caressing your body and his lips repeatedly pushing against your cheek.

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@felixsangelicfreckles

[promiseiwillwrite]

Fleabag Season 1.

I am going to overshare like hell here. There's mention of suicide and addiction ahead. Jump off now if you don't want to go there. Also spoilers if you've never seen the show.

There are very few shows that I have ever Identified with so deeply that I had so many feelings that I had to flee the room and not come back.

Fleabag is the only one in recent memory. I kind of liked her, to be honest. And the buildup to the pivotal moment, the fucking vorpal hinge of the season, hit me so hard in my own tendency to think of myself as a sex addicted bad person who is selfish that I nearly threw up.

I hate the idea that we can't go through life without hurting others. But there's no way around it.

Even if we are very careful and very gentle and very kind and always put the needs of others before our own, and avoid things we know could hurt them... we all have places of such delicate pressure in our lives that of we put even a hair out of place, and let one wrong breath or glance or word out, we could tear the lives of others apart.

I have never cheated on a partner. I have never slept with my best friend's first boyfriend immediately before her suicide. I have never done anything that hurtful to anyone in my life, and I would rather die, honestly because I know the hell I would make for myself after such a folly, even after years of therapy and huge work and progress with self acceptance... the hell I would make would be worse than anything the devil could dream up.

That hell rose up inside me when I realized what Fleabag was about to do, as she undid her belt, and I broke.

I am afraid of my own mind, and my own desires, and the possibility of hurting other people. I already fight the idea that I am worth less than they are every day. I already fight myself for the right to even be angry when someone is stupid and cruel to me.

critters and creatures, believe me when I say, I don't have it in me to watch that show.

I Barely made it through Jessica Jones and the prospect of facing the fear of being completely controlled to do things against my own will.

But Fleabag did me in.

when the piece of media got emotional reaction so strong that you're afraid to re-experience it in it

[read-marx-and-lenin]

Do you have any video essay recommendations? I find them more accessible for my brain than books but I haven’t found many good commie ones to dive into more theory. Tysm!!

I'm not a huge video essay person, but I do spend a lot of time on YouTube, so here are some of the communist creators I know about. While there are a lot of "leftist" creators out there, I'll be focusing on creators who are on the Marxist side of things.

Hakim is probably one of the bigger explicitly communist creators out there, and while I haven't seen every one of his videos, the ones I've watched have been pretty good.

Fellow Traveller is an underrated one, and while the quality of his videos is a bit scattershot IMO, he does some good deep dives into the history of various socialist nations.

revolutionaryth0t is a newer channel that I found out about recently, and so far her videos have been pretty high-quality for a channel that's less than a year old.

Luna Oi is a Vietnamese Youtuber who primarily focuses on presenting information about Vietnam for a Western audience. She's also got an ongoing translation project for translating Vietnamese dialectical materialism textbooks into English, with the first book already available for purchase or free digital download.

azureScapegoat isn't very active these days, but his videos on Cuba in particular were very informative for me when I was first "unlearning" capitalist propaganda.

Even less active, DPRK News Room is the channel that produced the documentary "Loyal Citizens of Pyongyang in Seoul" that you will see me recommending all the time, and while they have on average maybe one video a year, they have made some very good ones.

And on the subject of the DPRK, while this channel isn't explicitly communist and tends to avoid politics, DPRK Explained is a high-quality source for general information about the DPRK that avoids a lot of the anti-DPRK bias that a lot of Western sources tend to have. If you simply want to learn basic facts about DPRK history and DPRK culture without the sensationalism, you should check them out.

If anyone else has any suggestions or wants to criticize any of the channels I've mentioned, feel free to leave a note.

[norrisainz33]

the call pt 2 || platonic grid & gr63

summary: y/n finishes out the triple header strong after being called up to race for alpine

pairing: platonic!grid x george russell x rookie!driver!reader

fc & warnings: none and minor hate comments, bad language, and bad grammar from my end

a/n: i've never had this many people request a part 2 before so i hope y'all enjoy!! I'm going to keep her racing in the remainder of the season so keep an eye out for the rest.

part 1

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

alpinef1team has made a post

liked by pierregasly, ynuser, yourbff, yoursibling, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 876,234

alpinef1team: a point in the bag for pierre and another good drive for y/n 💼

view all 435 comments

user2: solid result for the team!!! y/n ate in her second race ever

user99: a team of losers tbh

ynuser: yay for points! let’s go pierregasly

pierregasly: we go again in brazil! points for both of us there 😉

ynuser: everyone better make sure to bet on us 🙂‍↔️

yourbff: let’s go best friend(s)!!!!

ynuser: 🫶🏻

georgerussell63: great stuff ynuser

ynuser: thanks georgie

user1: notice how he is always supporting her…. is there something here?

user2: they’ve been friends since their karting days!! if you asked me back when they were in f2 if they were tg i would’ve said yes bc they were kinda sus but now idk

user1: gonna go research the lore on their f2 days

✿

you let out a huff as you threw your padel racket on the ground and wiped the sweat from your brow, “god dammit lance! how are you so good at this!?”

laughing lance shrugged, “maybe you and george are just really bad!”

george shook his head, “no mate that can’t be it!”

you took a long drink of your water as the pair continued to bicker. “did you both see the weather for the weekend?” you asked changing the subject so they’d stop.

“yeah, lots of rain it seems.” lance put his racket into his bag and looked up at you with concern. “have you raced in the rain before?”

you shook your head, “no not really. i mean when i was karting yes but outside of that not really.”

“blimey y/n/n,” george ran a hand through his hair. “you’ve been going over those scenarios with your team right? there’s a chance of some really heavy rain.”

“i have, i have. i’ll be ok!” you assured them both with a smile but your friends looked anything but reassured.

✿

ynuser has posted to their story

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user2: jesus christ you’re so hot

user4: im obsessed with you holy f

georgerussell63: green is a good color on you. tho i think mercedes blue is better

ynuser: you mean alpine blue and pink

georgerussell63: nah i’d like to see you in my colors

ynuser: oh?

georgerussell63: you heard me

francocolapinto: 👀

ynuser: and you’re coming to play with us next time yea?

francocolapinto: si bonita

yourbff: H O T

ynuser: thanks bb

ynuser: also i think george might be flirting in my dms rn?

yourbff: WHAT?!

ynuser: he said he wants to see me in his mercedes kit

yourbff: oh that’s 🤭

landonorris: you look tall here

ynuser: thanks shortie 🩷

landonorris: uncalled for

user5: thanking your parents for doing it tbh

✿

holding in a yawn you turned to walk back to your garage after the brazilian national anthem. the 5am wake up for this ‘super sunday’ as they were calling it was catching up with you despite the butterflies swarming in your stomach. you had had the qualifying session of your life, which despite the cool confidence you played it off with in your interviews after, shocked you just as much as it shocked everyone else. you qualified in 4th. yes, you read that right, p4. something about the car came alive in the rain and you prayed it came alive again during the race but the rain was starting to pick up and it seemed like it was only going to get worse. you’d already seen several red flags in quali and would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t terrified that that was about to become you in the race.... especially with the threat of the entire field behind you, including max verstappen, wanting to push forward and push forward fast regardless of the consequences.

“y/n!” a hushed voice caught your attention. george had caught up to you and had a serious look on his face. “please be careful out there,” he pleaded.

“you too george,” you squeezed his arm lightly. “i’ll see you on the podium, yeah?"

"yeah," george winked as you turned to head into the alpine garage.

your engineer, james, handed you your helmet as he went over a few more pieces of data. he was stressing over the litany of different plans the team had put together in the very short window between quali and now. the heavy rain and your heroic lap times caused just about everything your team had prepped to be turned upside down.

“right, right i’ve got it james. plan a seems the most logical if i can keep everyone behind me.” you said as you pulled your helmet onto your head and fastened the strap.

things were about to get interesting.

✿

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f1: the race is stopped under the red flag for a crash….. and y/n y/l/n is our new race leader! after running a surprisingly strong p4 for the first half of the race, she took the lead when those in front pitted for new tyres. y/n is the only woman in history to lead a lap in a grand prix

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user1: not them calling her performance surprising 🥴

user2: I KNOW THATS RIGHT!

user12: only gonna last a second. she can’t even compete with the likes of verstappen

alpinef1team: @ everyone behind, y/n.. can we pretty please keep it this way?

yourbff: real tears are being shed rn this is monumental

user9: god is this amazing

mercedesamgf1: we love to see this historical moment! even if we’re coming to take it back 😉

user11: literally the most amazing thing i’ve seen all day

✿

you ripped another tear off from your helmet wishing it would make it easier to see but to your dismay, you still couldn’t see a damn thing. the rain was coming down in buckets, your inters were worn, you were fighting the car even in the straight lines to keep it on the track and worst of all, you were scared shitless. you had no moment to even be happy about your current position in p1 because you were too busy trying not to send your car into the barrier.

“max is 2 seconds behind you and gaining very quickly. gasly is 1.2 seconds behind max and leclerc is 0.9 behind pierre.” james updated you on the radio which sent you into a fit of rage.

“james for fucks sake i don’t care!!! stop giving me timing updates!! i can’t see the road so i can’t do anything about it!!!” you almost screamed. "i can't even pass half throttle!"

“rain is expected to lighten in about 10 laps,” james reported ignoring your outburst.

“10 LAPS?! how am i supposed to survive 10 laps?!?!?” as you yelled you felt the rear of your car start to slide causing you to need to quickly snap it back into place. “there is so much standing water james - i can’t keep doing this. the front straight is like a swimming pool!”

“yes you can, y/n. lock in and calm down. you only have a couple of laps left in this class of rain.”

“lock in? calm down!? and what if i crash this damn car first?!” turning off your radio you tried to take a few deep breaths while focusing on the road in front of you. you couldn’t panic - that would only make matters worse. you had to stay calm. you knew your car, you knew to deviate off the racing line to avoid the slippery curbs in specific turns, and you knew that you had to make it through whether you wanted to or not. panicking was not going to help anyone but there was little way to explain just how scary it was on track at this current moment.

another snap of significant oversteer left you breathless and near tears. “james im so serious - i need wets and even then i don’t think they’re going to be enough. there's standing water on every part of this track. i can't race like this on these tyres. please talk to fia. please we need a red flag.”

“pitting doesn’t make sense right now, you’ll come out in traffic and your race will be over.”

“i care more about making it out of this race alive than coming out in traffic.”

“understood.”

✿

✿

“they couldn’t have taken any longer with that red flag could they?” you snapped as you pulled your race suit down to your hips.

“no they really couldn’t have! it was getting ridiculous out there.” pierre grabbed his water bottle, "driving couldn't have been more dangerous."

“alright you two! thats enough!" your team principal interrupted, looking very serious. "we have a real chance of keeping this double podium finish especially because george and lando pitted before this red flag and lost a lot of time," he explained. "y/n, you’re going to have to push, there’s not much chance you’ll be able to keep max behind you but we’ve got to be fast enough to keep george, charles and lando behind pierre.”

right... keep 3 of the fastest drivers on the grid behind you both.. you were going to need a real stroke of luck.

✿

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alpinef1team: THEY DID IT!!! Y/N AND PIERRE CROSS THE LINE AS P2 AND P3! HISTORY MADE

✿

"thats p2 y/n - great job! the entire team and i are so fcking proud of you."

"AHHH YES YESSSSSSS!!!!" you screamed into the radio, banging your hands against the steering wheel, "WE DID IT!! WE DID IT JAMES!!" the emotions hit you like a brick wall, and tears quickly began falling. "thank you all so much. thank you for this opportunity. thank you to the mechanics, to everyone back at the factory, to every single one of you. thank you for believing in me when no one else did."

"you're welcome, y/n. you deserve it. you deserve it all kid."

pierre rolled up next to you to drive the remainder of the cool down lap by your side. he waved excitedly and you waved back without hesitation - you both had achieved what felt like the impossible.

you were the first woman to ever stand up on the podium and you were the first woman to score points in formula 1, but you knew you certainly weren't going to be the last. if you would do anything with your remaining races, it would be to show the world just how much women belong in this sport.

you pulled into parc ferme and shut off your car as quickly as you could. you fumbled with your straps and when you finally got them off, pierre was standing above you with his hand held out. you smiled, grabbing his hand and allowing him to pull you out of the car. "we did it, p -" you said just loud enough for him to hear over the cheering.

"we did it, y/n/n." pierre replied and with that, you both turned and ran hand in hand to your team who was waiting with open arms to greet their heroes.

✿

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liked by georgerussell63, landonorris, pierregasly, lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 943,124 others

ynuser: we did it 🩷 thank you to alpine for believing in me, thank you to pierre for being the best teammate a girl could ask for, thank you to my friends and family for supporting me through the ups and the downs and thank you to my fans -- i love you all so much

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user1: i've never shed so many tears over a race before

yourbff: i feel like a proud parent rn

ynuser: thanks for never giving up on me bestie

georgerussell63: you're a force to be reckoned with y/n. congratulations on an impressive drive! today is your day 🤍

ynuser: mark your calendars! 11/3 is national y/n day

landonorris: speechless... i am so proud of you. if someone had to be up there besides me, i'm so glad it was you 😉

ynuser: thank you lanny. only thing that would have made it better is if you were with me up there 🩷

user10: tea LOL

francisca.cgomes: i dont think i've ever been happier?? my two favorite people are on that podium?

ynuser: stop dont make me cry agAIN

pierregasly: thankful for you mon ami

ynuser: 🤍🩷

lewishamilton: being a barrier breaker is never easy y/n but you are crushing it. i am proud to race with you!

ynuser: you have no idea how much this means to me lewis

user9: thank you from the bottom of my heart for continuing to prove everyone wrong

user95: nothing could have prepared me for 1) them running hand and hand to their team, 2) y/n crying tears of joy on the podium and 3) gr63 picking y/n up and twirling her around in parc ferme

user2: george and y/n were so cute it was actually sickening. did you see the way he fixed her hair after putting her down

user95: and how he wiped away her tears??? yeah i saw it 🥹

user2: i want them together so bad

user10: you are going down in the history books

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!!! likes, feedback and reblogs are welcome!! massively appreciate all of the support on this little series. i am really enjoying it too

tag list from part 1: @yawn-zi @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @divagreymare @raizelchrysanderoctavius @ferakillia @stressed-cherry @sassyangel16 @mxdi0 @awritingtree @danielricciardoslut3 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @seasonswinter @rawr-123s-stuff @grussellsprout @belncaldern @ellelabelle @rafeyybabyy

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[princessbrunette]

ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅PRINCESSBRUNETTES SCREAM SALON INTRODUCES … ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵ ࿁ ˂̵ ꒱ྀིა

BLINK TWICE ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

♩cecile believe — blink twice ♩

pairing: supe!rafe x reader

cw: theboys!au, hostage situation, guns, rafe is 6ft7 because of compound v lol, forceful-ish sex, fear, death (not reader)

you are responsible for your own media consumption. welcome to kinktober day six. better late than never!

you’d only ever seen ‘king kook’ on tv.

six-foot-seven feet of pure lean muscle and compound v. you didn’t invest yourself too much into the capitalism porn and multi millionaire industry that were supes, not enough to admire the beloved favourite himself anyway. but you can safely say, once or twice it had crossed your mind. him. king kook.

many things had crossed your mind, but not one of them had been the fact one day you might be in the hostage situation you currently were — sky high in a penthouse that didn’t belong to you. you were just the maid for christs sake, caught up in a crime that you’d rather be far from.

as you listen to the repetitive drum that was your captors shoes, pacing back and forth in only the next room, your wrists tied, you lean back against the wall and stare up at the fluorescent lights in the walk in closet you were being temporarily stored in.

you’d already tried to plead for your life, bravely call out to your captor and ask to be spared — but had only had been slapped, the cold kiss of a pistol being pressed to your forehead shortly after forcing you quickly back into submission. all you could do now, was either wait to be killed or wait to be saved.

then of course there was the sound of the front door swinging open without a care that had you tensing up. the police wouldn’t just bust in like that without a plan, could it be another accomplice? you’re proven wrong once more by the sound of your captors voice once more — urgent and pleading, followed by a voice you hadn’t heard prior, and yet was somewhat familiar.

“alright alright, quit with the cryin’ okay— got yourself into this mess i don’t wanna hear it.”

there’s a strangled sound, the patio glass down sliding open, a yelp — and then silence. whoever had come to save you, had just thrown your captor from the balcony. you’re frozen, praying you weren’t next.

“you uh— you in here? ‘can come out now, okay he’s… he’s gone.” the male voice sounds reluctant, like he couldn’t be bothered to deal with the aftermath and you push yourself to your feet — bravely peeping from the closet.

there in the hallway, stands the famous supe— king kook, in all his glory. you knew he was huge but he seemed to tower now, the light from the open patio door casting an angelic glow around him— something like you’d never seen before.

your knees feel weak, all shaky like a baby deer and he presses his lips together.

“you’re…”

“want a picture or something?” he itches his jaw and you shake your head. in that moment, he takes you in — eyes dragging down and then back up as he blinks, waiting for a response. you suddenly feel nude under his gaze, and you wonder if that’s a superpower of his. you blame the stupid little black dress your boss forces you to wear.

“no. thank you. thank you for saving me.” you tremble, braving a step closer.

usually, he’d shrug it off — ruin the sweet moment with a ‘well it’s my job, so.’ and head off — but he’d had a long day and you were his final save until he had to head back to the tower for daily debriefs. didn’t hurt that you were easy on the eyes.

“yeah. he would have uh…” a grin spreads across his face and it feels cold, wrong for the moment. “he would have had your head on a stick.”

you feel queasy at the imagery but you’re distracted by the visage of the supe eyeing you once more. “do you drink?”

unsure as to how you got there, you stand at the kitchen counter with him now — still shaky. you figured with these things they’d come to have an ambulance check you over, make sure you’re okay, physically and mentally. but in this moment, there was no one coming. it was just you, and king kook.

you watch the muscles in his back contract as he faces away from you, unscrewing the cap to a bottle of expensive alcohol and pouring it into short glasses. when he faces you again, he’s charming — a coy smile leaving lines in his cheeks and focused eyes. it was never unheard of that he was handsome, you’re just noticing it now— close up and in person.

“get some of that in you, yeah?” he drawls, sliding the glass towards you, his fingers lingering on the rim— eyes on yours. “that shit should get you nice and relaxed.”

you take a sip, wincing at the sharp taste that burned your throat. whiskey — and you were never really a fan. but hey, it would be rude to decline. the supe chuckles at your reaction that you tried to hide, drinking his with ease.

“so what am i supposed to do now? do i need to report this to someone? i’ve never… been a hostage before.” your brow crinkles as your neck cranes to look up at him, the man suddenly closer than before, licking his lips like a malnourished alligator.

“uh, nah… no. you let me handle that, yeah? this was my save so… you report to me.” he tilts his head and you find yourself biting your lip. you want to scold yourself, but blame it on adrenaline instead.

“oh… well, i’m thankful for that.”

“yeah? how thankful.” he moves a little closer, and you feel tiny.

“hm?” all doe eyed and helpless, you practically feed it to him.

large hands find your hips, and to your surprise you’re spun to face away from him, the man leaning down so his hot breath invades the space between your neck and ear.

“you know i- i had a really long day. maybe we… figure something out, right? a way for you to pay me back.”

“how so?” you whimper.

it all happens so fast — one moment you’re being smooth talked, next moment your feet are dangling in the air, being used like a fleshlight. you’re grasping onto him now, flailing a little at the fact you were totally off the ground, the man effortlessly supporting your weight.

“fuckfuckfuck— yeah-haha, like that.” he strains, hips plapping violently against your ass as he fucks into you. no protection or anything, but somewhere in the back of your mind you figured supes couldn’t procreate like that.

“k—king m’gonna fall— gonna—mmph.” you sound deranged, like an animal even as you flop against him, letting him hammer you in the air.

“shh—shutup, a’ight? gonna — gonna let me have this… mmph… gonna be a grateful girl for me okay?” he grunts, adjusting his feet wider and closing his eyes to concentrate on the warm embrace of your snug cunt.

you suppose you were grateful, and whilst you were filled with shame — the least you could do would be to try and enjoy it.

[puck-luck]

Luke Hughes, clubs, 16 or 24 or 10

I chose #10 for this blurb because it was the least requested prompt for Luke :) @sidcrobsimp thank you for requesting <3

Warnings: edging, use of sex toys, overstim, soft!dom Luke WC: 820

Luke has a post-game ritual. Instead of going home, he comes to your apartment. Relatively early in your relationship, but after you’d given him a key to the apartment, he had caught you using your vibrator on yourself. His eyes had grown to the size of saucers and his pupils were blown out as he watched you hold the silicone toy to your clit and writhe against it.

After seeing how much it affected him, you started pleasuring yourself in front of Luke more often. He gets a kick out of telling you what to do exactly, although sometimes he likes to sit back and watch. 

Now, he’s come to expect it. When he comes over after playing his heart out, he wants to see you spread out on your bed with a buzzing sensation against your most sensitive parts. Today is no different.

Luke lets himself into your apartment and creeps down the hall, toeing off his shoes and losing his shirt along the way. He’s left in some joggers and his underwear, ready to drop those clothes as soon as he gets to the bedroom, grows abruptly hard, and feels confined by the fabric.

He can hear your little whimpers and gasps before he even enters the room. Before entering the room, Luke adjusts himself in his pants. He doesn’t want to look too excited yet, not when this has happened so many times before and he hasn’t even seen you.

When he pushes the door open, your legs are spread and your cunt is glistening. 

“Finally,” you groan, acknowledging Luke’s presence. You hit the button on the vibrator and Luke hears the pace increase. You slide the tip of the vibrator up your slit before settling it against your clit, where it was before.

“Don’t be greedy,” Luke says. “I didn’t tell you to go faster.”

“Is that what we’re doing today?” You ask breathlessly. “You want to be in charge?”

“Inside,” Luke tells you shortly. 

You’re quick to obey, filling yourself with the buzzing toy. 

“Fix the setting,” Luke adds, which you do. You know what he means– the constant vibration is fine when you’re tormenting your clit, but he prefers an intermittent pattern when you’re full. It keeps you on the edge for longer, teasing you the way Luke enjoys… because you’re always so whiny when you’re nearly there. “That’s my girl. Does it feel good? How long have you been playing with yourself?”

“Since your goal,” you inform him, your eyes fluttering shut. Your hips jerk up, trying to chase the pleasure of the toy inside of you. 

Luke’s eyebrows fly towards his hairline. He scored in the second period. You’ve been at this for more than an hour.

“Did you come?” He asks.

You shake your head. “Wanted to wait for you.”

Ugh. Luke loves you. He rids himself of his pants and underwear, joining you on the bed. He brings his hands to your tits, pinching your nipples. 

You arch up into his touch, moaning loudly. You turn your face towards Luke, tilting your chin up to invite him to kiss you. 

He doesn’t. He pinches your nipples again, getting the same reaction. Luke smirks. “So close already? I’ve barely even touched you.”

“I’ve been doing this for ages,” you explain, confirming the timeline that Luke had already assumed. 

“Poor baby,” Luke simpers sarcastically. “Hold it. I’ll tell you when you can come.”

“Luke,” you protest.

“You wanted to wait for me,” Luke reminds you. “So wait until I give you permission.”

With that, he dips his head and starts to kiss over your breasts. Luke sucks bruises onto the skin of your tits, which will be hidden underneath your clothes in the coming days. Still, Luke will know they’re there, and that’s enough. 

Your fingers find his curls, twisting them tightly as you try to distract yourself from the sensation. 

As his tongue finds your nipple, his fingers start to circle your clit. You jolt against him, and Luke nibbles at the pebbling peak of your tit to berate you for moving. He makes things even more difficult for you by suckling at your breast harshly, fingers pinching your clit playfully.

Although Luke meant to tease you, he had underestimated just how close you were. From the way you seize up and clench his hair, hips twitching helplessly and pressing into his touch, Luke knows that you’ve involuntarily disobeyed his command to hold it. 

He grins into your chest. Now, you have to make up for the misgiving– coming again at Luke’s command. He’ll make you hold back as much as you can before finally allowing you that relief, accomplishing his plan by bringing you right to the peak and then taking it all away. His mistake was continuing to touch you when you already said you were so close– but he doesn’t regret it. He doesn’t think you will, either.

[rs-hawk]

Could you do a modern day female orc x female reader? I see very little now

Sure! A lot of my short stories tend not to be modern set so that might be why for me.

When you saw Cassia for the first time, your heart fluttered. Your chest felt tight. Your lungs were tight. It was like you were struck all at once. Was this what love at first sight felt like? It was a whirlwind romance, but after only a few days of talking, she was inviting you out to drinks. You flushed when you said yes.

Of course, you forgot that Orc bars are not the same thing as human bars. There were similarities, the loud music, the loud patrons, and the stench of liquor and sweat, but the way that the Orcs interacted with each other was something you never thought about, and definitely didn't expect.

Cassia, being a large woman, with large, thick tusks that put even many male ones to shame, commanded respect the second she walked in. All eyes were on her, and your face flushed darkly under the gaze of the other Orcs. Once the two of you sat down, the bartender didn't even ask you what you wanted to drink. He just slid a glass of clear liquid towards you.

"it's pretty much the only thing humans can drink in here," Cassia explained, taking what was clearly her usual from the bartender who winked at her as he handed the glass to her.

"Is Orc liquor that much stronger?" you asked, looking at her glass curiously. Was it really stronger, or was it just that Orcs are so large that it doesn't affect them the same way?

She laughed, tilting the glass towards you. "If you're going to eye me so suspiciously take a sip and see for yourself." When you leaned forward, she leaned in, whispering in a voice that made heat pool between your legs, "a sip, human. Remember."

And you did. You took a sip, and she was right. Whatever Orc liquor was made of was way too strong for humans. If you had drank much more than that, you'd be black out drunk already. You laughed, and the two of you seemed to be getting along really well. You kept leaning over, touching her arm, batting your eyes up at her. Every time you did, it made her smile, or laugh. She was clearly enthralled with you too.

Before too long, both of you were drunk. "I have to pee," you announced, staggering to your feet.

"I'll go with you," she offered, getting up on her unsteady feet.

The two of you leaned against each other, with you obviously leaning more heavily on her. Once the two of you were done, and washing your hands, Cassia looked over at you.

"You're gorgeous," she muttered, her eyes now hungry as her gaze stalked up and down your body.

Goosebumps sprung up under her gaze. "So are you. I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful woman," you whispered, eyes round as she leaned forward to finally kiss you.

The kiss was rough, and you had to be careful because of her tusks. They scraped the side of your cheeks, but you didn't care. Her mouth tasted like liquor and gum, and you hoped your breath didn't smell or taste bad, but that thought only came to you for a moment as she lifted you onto the counter. Part of you wanted to protest, but between the intoxication from the liquor and the intoxication from how good she was making you feel, you didn't dare.

She slipped a hand down your pants, pressing her fingers to your soaked cunt over your panties. "So wet already for me," she moaned, pushing your panties to the side to be able to tease you with one of her large fingers.

You spread your legs, wanting to give her more access. "So good. You're so good," you moaned back, grinding your hips against her finger.

It wasn't long until she had brought you to the edge of an orgasm, where you were whining and begging her to let you finish. However, when she dropped to her knees, ripping off your pants and panties, you almost cry in anticipation. Her fat tongue works over your desperate cunt perfectly. Her finger now circling and teasing your clit as she lapped at you, parting your lower lips with her skilled tongue. Tears pricked your eyes as you felt yourself tettering on the edge as she played with your body.

"Cum for me. I want to taste you," she groaned against your skin, reaching up with her other hand to fondle and play with one of your breasts, lightly pinching the nipple.

Almost on command, you cum, covering your mouth to keep from screaming, though you're sure the whole bar knows what the two of you were doing in here. After the waves of pleasure crashing over you subside, she kisses your inner thighs, her tusks scraping the soft skin there, threatening, but also comforting. Such a dangerous creature is so gentle with you.

Like this story? Support me on Ko-fi ☕️ ❤️

[loulovingho]

Seeing the Maddie gif just reminded of all the wasted potential and storylines they could have had with Tommy and the bucktommy relationship. Because let's face it, for all of the mains it's the same storyline over and over again - we're not learning anything new about them. But then here we have a character who we sort of already know, who they've teased us with a bit of his history and it was like finally! A chance for something new! We could have learned more about his family, maybe see how Buck reacts meeting his father and then having to deal with his homophobic reaction to him, the man he loves and their relationship. He clearly sounded like he didn't have a lot of close friends/family/support outside of Buck - we could have explored that, have Buck be there for his man and show him how, you have me and the 118. We never got to see the whole "dating a fellow first responder and the challenges that come with that" - we've seen Buck in the hospital so many times, it would have been interesting to see Tommy in that hospital bed and Buck having to deal with the one being by the bedside for once, worrying about someone he loves, maybe making him fully appreciate everything his family had gone through in the past when HE was the one injured (like all the effort Maddie went into to look after him). We could have had Tommy and Eddie bonding over war stories - was Tommy discharged due to DADT? If so, we could have had conversations with Karen, who also was affected by that. Hell, if they were gonna do the stupid "he was engaged to Abby for two years" story, have Chim and Hen be like, dude, you were working with us all that time, how did we not KNOW (that story still makes no sense - he never mentioned her name to them? Because if he did, surely it would have clicked when they met her in S1 "oh, you're Tommy's Abby". But Tim acknowledged he retconned their relationship from an ex-boyfriend to ex-fiances so he clearly doesn't care.)

But most of all, despite being together for SIX MONTHS, we never saw Tommy and Maddie interact. Maddie was clearly excited for Buck ("tell me about the hot pilot"), she's married to Tommy's old friend, there was the perfect opportunity to see them start to bond over family dinner or something. We've never seen Maddie really click with any of Buck's LI's before, so it would have been nice to see Buck's whole world start to come together. And it could have led to family orientated stories for Buck for once - we always assume he wants kids because he says he loves kids and we see that with Chris, Jee etc. There could have been discussions for the first time about Buck's future - does he see himself getting married, having kids (and ugh, so annoyed that the first time Buck mentions the possibility of getting married is 30 seconds before his heart is crushed).

And that's not even going into the small things I wanted to see on-screen. I knew we were never gonna get anything too intimate - 911 is a bit prudish, they don't really do sex scenes, especially not since the first season, and hell, all their other main couples barely kiss as it is. But things like holding hands as they're walking down the street, talking about their day while making dinner together, waking up in bed together - small little domestic things that show how their relationship is developing. SHOW it developing. (Because while the snippets they showed of their relationship showed that they were growing more comfortable as a couple, a lot of that development happened off screen.)

This was the first time in a long time, maybe ever, that we saw Buck truly happy (that man was GLOWING, even covered in boils). For the first time, we could have seen his story GROW, instead of doing the same lather, rinse, repeat that has happened in all his relationships (Buck falls for someone, goes too hard too fast, they abandon him, he doesn't bother fighting for the relationship). We could have finally had a sprinkling of new storylines (Tommy wasn't a main, we obviously weren't going to get a hell of a lot, but if Karen can have her own stories/backstories, so could he). All that down the drain for what, Buck 1.0 again? Him jumping back on that hamster wheel of "find new love interest, it goes nowhere, he's single again". It's boring, and this show is on its 8th season - not only has this been played out for too long, who knows how much longer the show is gonna last. If it only goes until say season 10, that would have been two and a half seasons worth of seeing Buck be able to grow, get the love he always wanted (hell, maybe even get engaged, finish the series with a wedding implying he gets his happily ever after). Buck is only one member of an ensemble cast - they can't focus on him every episode, so two years is plenty of time to draw out only a handful of fresh stories. After 8 season, keeping him perpetually single for this long only works if he's always been played as like Joey off Friends - someone who is happy playing the dating game, not looking to go anywhere. Except Buck has been shown to be looking for love all this time - he doesn't want that single life (he doesnt want to "explore" Tim - screwing random men and women isnt going to help him find that love he's always wanted, especially when he already had it). But instead, they take it away from him AGAIN, and now they're back to square one. Sigh.

There’s so much i agree with here! They’ve tried to cram soooo many storylines into each episode that there’s no room to breathe. Everything feels stunted and half-assed. Tim said they didn’t want to ignore everything that happened at the end of 7, wanted to pick it back up, but they spent these first few episodes either destroying the storylines they built on, or ending them so abruptly it doesn’t feel satisfying. Nothing feels connected anymore. In early seasons you’d have them all working together on certain major storylines, but I’d doesn’t really feel like that happens now outside of calls. And the calls are so quick (besides the damn plane) that you don’t really connect with that either.

It would have been nice to see tommy and buck develop more, nice to see him involved with the group instead of just Eddie, nice to see them keep their word and try to make this love interest different from the rest. They did none of that.

[discursiverecursion]

Psst... Queer American fam...

A lot of us are in survival mode right now, and who knows how long that is going to last. An onslaught could begin the first day, or it could be relatively quiet until a storm breaks, so our background stress/anxiety levels are going to be high, and some of the effects of excess circulating cortisol include anxiety, depression, trouble sleeping, headaches, digestive problems, and problems with memory and focus.

It’s normal to be struggling right now.

It means you’re human.

I know this sounds bad, but I’m restating a thing I think many people already know, because the thing is, a common tactic of the Right is to put people in a stressful situation and then blame them for their response to it (I’ve seen this referred to in other contexts as “reactive trauma”). As queer folks and people being targeted, we might think we are immune to this, but it works more insidiously than that. It can tear us apart, and it plays out like the following:

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

As violence towards our community escalates, they will start publically pointing at things “we are doing” that are “causing” the escalation. 

They will use this term “we”, because they don’t understand that we are not homogeneous.

Sometimes we ourselves, as individuals, will not be part of that “we”. 

It will be terrifying, in that moment, to have rights stripped away (or worse) without having any perceived control, and that lack of control will feel like it is due to the actions of another being blamed on you. 

DON’T FALL FOR IT THOUGH!

This is misdirection. They do not have to hurt us, even if we are loudly gay, even if we protest the ways they are hurting us already.

Please, please don’t let yourself get to a safe place and wonder why others aren’t hiding. You are allowed to keep yourself safe. In fact, I encourage it, but please remember that those of us fighting this thing publicly are not the enemy. We need your support and solidarity.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

We are a big family with many different survival strategies:

We don't all have to utilize the same one

We don't have to stick with our original choice over time

We are not bound to only using one at a time

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’m going to end this with a list of some survival strategies found in nature, because I'm definitely rambling and this was the thought I actually started typing this post with:

Do you recognize any of your own strategies in the list below?

Do you recognize any that are the opposite?

Can you hold that we are all in this together coping in our own ways, that we are not each others’ enemies?

Can you remember that "health" is a social construct, and that a strategy doesn't have to be the "best" one for it to be functional for the time being to keep someone alive?

I hope you can, because we will need each other to get through the coming years.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

STRATEGIES:

Becoming a spore (more info) - Shutting down completely for a bit - Sleeping more - Building mental walls

Playing dead (more info) - Retreating from social life  - Retreating from social media - Missing work

Camouflage (more info) - Going back in the closet - Codeswitching - Becoming extremely quiet

Mimicry of a more dangerous creature (more info) - Being argumentative/loud - Being assertive - Presenting even more queerly

Nocturnality (more info) - Nocturnality - Avoiding people - Staying in a social bubble

Distraction (more info) - Drag - Hacking - Certain forms of protest

Pursuit-Deterrent Signals (more info) - Making oneself needed - Feigning compliance - Presenting in “stealth” mode

Mobbing (more info) - Protests - Taking down websites - Coworker solidarity to create workspace change

Staying in the middle of a group (more info) - Being in community support networks - Going to therapy - Getting to know your neighbors

Sounding an alarm (more info) - Being loud on social media - Being loud in the workplace - Naming the quiet parts out loud

[sansaorgana]

— DECEPTION (VIII)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — Your conversation with Lady Galadriel makes you realise a very difficult truth about the nature of your relationship with Sauron. You wish to keep your dark secret from your husband but you are trying to make him realise that perhaps attacking Eregion might not be the best idea after all.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I could not wait to write this chapter from the very beginning the idea for this fic showed up in my head. Even though the Reader is not really talking much during the scene with Galadriel (it was never my intention for her to talk there much), the conversation she is witnessing makes her realise all the things that make her deeply uncomfortable and cause her whole life's purpose to shatter. 👌🏽👌🏻 This fic is slowly coming to an end, by the way.

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship

WORD COUNT — 6,900

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (VIII)

Everyone knew who Lady Galadriel was. Not just the Elves but nearly every being in Middle-earth, including the Orcs because she had slayed so many of them. In fact, you were sure that some Uruk mothers were telling their children scary stories about Lady Galadriel. Known for carrying so much light and beauty and yet so fiercely determined to purge Middle-earth from all filth. In a way, she reminded you of Sauron in this.

Lady Galadriel was everything you had wished to be back in the day – known, respected, beautiful beyond comparison. Back in the day when you had remained incorrupt by your lover, before you had begun to dream about becoming his terrific Queen and rule alongside him. Now you could not care less about her qualities because you had your own – very often contradicting hers.

You walked together with your husband amongst the Orcs as the night was slowly turning into a foggy day and you could already see Eregion from afar.

The sight alone was gut-twisting to you because you knew that your beloved was there – so close to you. Soon, you would be in his arms as his Queen. No more secrets, no more hiding, no more lies. 

But when you imagined that, your heart ached for the man walking by your side. What would happen to him then? You were certain Sauron wanted Adar dead but you… You did not.

You could never admit it to your lover, though. He was jealous and possessive. It would only make him want Adar’s death even more. And he had other reasons than you – his own revenge. The revenge you craved as well after all. Adar had been the one to take Sauron away from you by killing and humiliating him. He had his own reasons to do it, too, though. The situation between them was very delicate and difficult on many levels.

Your plan had been so easy at first – to play pretend and hand Adar out to Sauron on a silver plate. But your heart – not as rotten as you’d like it to be – kept complicating things.

“How well do you know Galadriel?” Your husband asked you and you turned your head around to raise an eyebrow.

“Not much personally. I have seen her a few times, talked to her twice maybe, except for the official affairs since I was a daughter of the Lord Guardian of The Southlands. But she mostly resided in the North, therefore there were never many occasions,” you explained. “Why?”

“I was only wondering if you might be useful when we negotiate with her,” Adar told you and you tilted your head.

“I have a feeling you hide something from me. Why did you even take her as a prisoner?” You furrowed your brows. “You promised me… You promised me that we would be equals and that you would tell me everything,” you reminded him.

Adar stopped walking for a moment and you stopped, too, staring at him and trying to show off your best hurt expression. The Orcs kept passing you by and glancing from the corners of their eyes when your husband extended his hand to hold yours.

“I have no secrets from you,” he assured you. “But I am so used to loneliness, I forget to share my thoughts often,” he admitted. “Galadriel might be our ally. She is after Sauron, is she not?” He asked and you nodded, squeezing his hand back.

“She devoted her life to fight him and other forces of darkness,” you replied. “But we are the very forces of darkness. What makes you think she is going to treat with us?”

“If she does not, we might use her. It is her who is our prisoner, not the other way around,” Adar smirked and pointed his chin in the direction where he wanted you to follow him – where some of the Orcs were already toying with Lady Galadriel, recently released out of her cage and the others were busy building a war camp for your army to reside.

When you approached them, you spotted Glûg holding his dagger close to Galadriel’s face. It suddenly made you realise how you truly became one of them – how it was nearly impossible to imagine any of the Orcs to ever turn against you the same way. From being scared of falling asleep around them, you walked confidently amongst them and you even dared to scold them sometimes as they would look down shyly.

In their eyes, you surely were no Elf anymore – not in the same way Galadriel was.

Adar stopped Glûg by putting his hand on the Orc’s arm and shaking his head as Glûg walked away, a little frustrated. Lady Galadriel’s beautiful, bright eyes found yours and she seemed to be pretty fascinated. Therefore, you straightened your back.

And after a very short while of holding each other’s gazes, she suddenly took out a dagger that had been hidden discreetly in her sleeve and pointed it at your husband. The Orcs around you groaned at that as they became alarmed and so did you – you let out a small yelp as your heart skipped a beat and your hand already grabbed the hilt of your sword. Even though you knew that you would never be an opponent worthy enough of her when it came to sword duels.

Galadriel turned around, moving Adar alongside her. And now her blade was pressed to his neck as Glûg jumped in front of you to cover you with his own body just in case.

Yes, you were definitely one of them now. Your light was all gone, your blood turned black and your skin turned cold. Valinor was awaiting you no more.

“I brought you here not as a prisoner…” Adar turned his face around to look at Galadriel as he spoke in the Sindarin language, “but as a potential ally for we share a common enemy.”

After a while of hesitation, Galadriel’s surprised eyes found yours behind Glûg. You nodded at her as if you were more trustworthy than your husband – in fact, you were less. But she did not know that and she still must have considered you to be sort of a friend. A friend enough to let go of Adar as the Orcs calmed down and you ran up to your husband to put your hands on his chest and cling to him, grateful that he was still in one piece. You knew how fierce Galadriel could be.

Adar caressed your back soothingly and you could feel her eyes on you, probably wondering about the nature of your relationship. 

“Lady Galadriel, please, feel yourself invited…” Adar pointed at the biggest tent that had already been there, waiting for you two to sleep in. “Let us talk,” he added and you watched her hesitantly go inside.

Your husband followed and you began walking right after when you felt a strong pull towards Eregion. You turned around rapidly and kept staring at the forest, knowing very well that behind them the city stood and inside the city there he was – Sauron. Looking out and sensing your presence, looking out for you. You smiled to yourself and focused all your will and might to let him know that you were close and you would be reunited soon.

And with a heart so full of love for him and a brand new inspiration to carry on with your plan, you finally joined Adar and Galadriel inside the tent.

They were sitting on the opposite sides of the table as some female Orcs were bringing you food. It was a small feast in a way and you knew it was Adar’s way to make Galadriel feel like your guest indeed. You took a seat next to him and put a small portion on your plate before beginning to eat it. Adar’s portion was much bigger than yours but Galadriel’s was none. Her plate remained empty and she just kept sitting there and staring at the two of you, which was awkward in a way but you tried to ignore her.

You wondered if Sauron knew about her. Was she also a part of his plan or was she an obstacle he had no idea of? You could not decide for yourself, therefore, for now, you decided to just sit there and observe how the situation would evolve.

Eventually, she just could not hold herself back no more as she addressed you.

“Lady (Y/N) of The Southlands… Your mother arrived in Lindon some time ago,” Galadriel spoke and you looked up at her, immediately. The mention of your mother made your heart clench.

“Then you must be surprised to see me,” you smirked, “for I have instructed her to speak of me as dead.”

“On the contrary,” Galadriel raised an eyebrow at you in a challenging manner and you furrowed your brows. “She has told the High King everything.”

You clenched your jaw and gritted your teeth, nervously looking at Adar but he only nodded at you to calm you down and soothe you.

“Then you know what treachery my father was capable of,” you answered, avoiding her gaze. You did not want her to see the betrayal you felt after your mother’s broken promise.

“And what treachery you were capable of as well,” Galadriel nodded.

“My mother blames me for the fall of Ostirith, but I had no idea of it. It was no scheme of mine,” you finally met her gaze again. This time you didn’t care if she could see the pain on your face or not because it was too big to hide it anyway. “Why can she not trust her own daughter?”

“She loves you but she does not believe you,” Galadriel informed you. “She revealed to the High King that there had been something rotten about you for a while now. Ever since you had returned from Eregion–”

“Stop it!” You banged your fist on the table, angrily.

“Be at ease, she is provoking you,” Adar’s voice was calm as he put his hand on your arm to give you comfort. Then he shot Galadriel a glance.

You nodded at your husband and relaxed, which made her roll her eyes a bit.

“You seem to quite fit in. Even the sword you carry is Morgoth’s,” Galadriel pointed out.

“I had to fit in to survive. Something a grand lady like you has never known and will never know,” you remarked.

Adar seemed to be a little frustrated with your girly chit-chat as he leaned back on his chair and sighed. He raised a hand to shush you both since he wanted to finally speak of the matters that were the most important to him.

“We must not argue now,” he reminded you two and then, after a short while of silence, he looked at Galadriel. “During my brief time in your capture, you seemed intent on finding Sauron. One might even say, consumed by it,” he told her and Galadriel looked down.

You leaned back on your chair as well, with your hands clasped on your abdomen as you observed her reactions. 

“The way one always is, once he has wormed his way inside your mind,” Adar kept talking and his eyes were on Galadriel. Her own eyes were rather glancing down, avoiding his gaze. Therefore, your own eyes were allowed to wander and for that you were grateful. His words about your beloved were making you feel deeply uncomfortable.

“You know nothing of my mind,” Galadriel replied to that and a smug expression lit up her face. “You yielded to him. I resisted.”

Resisted?

You swallowed a lump in your throat. What was she talking about? Since when was she ever so close to Sauron to be offered anything from him? Back in the First Age, the only time Galadriel had been mentioned by your lover was when he had been complaining about the Elven armies to you. She had never been any part of his plans – except for the one to get rid of her for once and for all. 

And yes, you were aware that Galadriel had been the one to spend time with Halbrand in Númenor but you had never seen her as anything else but his tool. Was it possible that there had been more depth to their relationship? That he had shown her his soul and offered her a piece of it?

Did his soul not belong to you wholly?

“For a while, perhaps,” Adar remarked in a whisper. “But sooner or later, he sees you. Not just who you are, but who you wish to be,” he added and you clenched your jaw as you looked down to stare at your fingers.

You began to fidget with them nervously while you remembered your first meeting with Sauron. How luring and tempting he had been, how he had seemed to know perfectly well what had been your desires. And he had promised you to fulfil them all.

“His eyes bore a hole and the rest of him slithers in,” Adar kept talking and at that moment, his voice was starting to make you sick. It was becoming too much to hear all these things.

He had known Sauron – he had known him better than you in lots of ways. You were no young Elf but your husband was much older and he had known Sauron for a time much longer than you. They had fought together for Morgoth and then for themselves. The only thing you had been doing was warming your lover’s bed and listening to his sweet nothings.

And that… That was enough to make you become obsessed with him. To make you yearn for him each day and each night of your separation. To make you abandon all else – because only Sauron mattered.

“For a while, he even makes you believe that his power has become yours,” Adar kept his monologue and you took a deep breath. As you raised your chin, you spotted the look on Galadriel’s face…

The look that made you realise what the nature of her relationship with Sauron had to be…

You felt dizzy but you managed to keep an emotionless face on even though your mind began to drift away and get foggy.

“Irresistible power… that makes every desire’s fulfilment seem inevitable,” Adar smirked as he had noticed Galadriel’s facial expression as well. “An ocean of colour against which everything else feels forever thereafter–”

“A dull grey,” Galadriel admitted and you regretted eating your meal in an instant when the anxiety squeezed your stomach and you felt even more sick now.

It was her confession and the both of you knew it. You watched Adar’s face change its expression in an instant as he realised he had found an ally in her indeed – that they had both been deceived by Sauron in the past.

And you were sitting there, too. Like a fool.

“What did he promise you?” Adar asked Galadriel.

“An army,” she lied. Her eyes glistened and she shook her head and you knew – you just knew – that she lied.

You knew because you knew what it meant to love and trust Sauron. You knew what he was doing to a woman he had such a strong effect on and what it was like to share a bond with him. And all these things, you could see in her now, too.

It felt like a punch right into your gut, piercing you through and through, leaving you behind to bleed out slowly, drop by drop.

Was it possible that your lover… Your one and only, your whole purpose in life, your dream, your master, your King… That he was merely using you?

That you were nothing but one of many other women he had been finding a use for? And if Lady Galadriel was one of them – the Lady of Light – what chances did you stand? What was giving you any guarantee that it was her he had been deceiving and you that he had been genuine with?

The chances were zero.

Your whole world crumbled down in an instant and you could not let it show. You closed your eyes for a longer while and tried to focus on your fastened heartbeat instead.

“Do you want to know what he offered me?” Adar inquired.

“I care not,” Galadriel admitted.

“Children,” your husband answered anyway.

And how pure his wishes and desires seemed to be compared to you. You had been greedy, you had made Sauron promise you to make you his Queen. You had wanted to be worshipped and admired.

But now you were not so sure. Having a taste of it by being the Dark Lady of Mordor was truly making you realise what a burden and responsibility it was to lead others. Sometimes being Adar’s wife and watching over the Orcs seemed to be more than enough.

And then Sauron would slip back into your mind again… And you would be reminded once more what a great power you could have if you only dared to unleash it.

“Then it would seem he gave us both what we desired,” Galadriel pointed out.

“You see, it is not his lies which must be extinguished. It is him and I can help you do it,” Adar admitted and you felt a shiver go down your spine.

Despite everything you had just found out, you still felt awful whenever the possibility of Sauron’s death was being mentioned.

“I can help you destroy Sauron,” your husband leaned in over the table to reach Galadriel more effectively.

“What help could you possibly provide, Orc?” She snapped at him and it finally gave you an opportunity to glance at her with all your anger and jealousy that you had been feeling for a while now.

You had never cared much about that slur until now – because in her lips it sounded just so awful.

“Uruk,” you finally spoke, interrupting them as they both looked at you surprised. Whether they were shocked by the fact that you cared or they simply forgot you were there with them – you did not care.

You did not care about anything anymore. Your whole life, your whole love and devotion, your whole sacrifice – they might have been a lie. How could you care about anything or anyone?

Adar stood up and briefly caressed your cheek with his finger as he walked away from the table to approach the wooden chest with Morgoth’s crown. He took it out to show it off to Galadriel and as he walked towards her with the item, she seemed to be startled by its darkness.

“Morgoth’s crown… I was told–”

“There are many stories of what happened, after the Silmarils were pried from its settings. But I was there when Sauron re-fired it to fit himself,” Adar confessed and you kept listening as your lips nervously twitched and formed a sad smile as silent and dry tears streamed down your cheeks – they were invisible but you could feel that you were on the verge of crying. “I was there when he kneeled to be crowned and I was the one who used its power to slay him,” Adar continued his story.

Each time you were told it or you thought of it, you relieved it in your mind. You had not been there but you had enough imagination to see it with your eyes. And each time your heart weeped for your betrayed lover but it seemed to weep no more… Because you were a betrayed lover now.

Adar put the crown on the table in front of Galadriel and you looked down, hoping they would forget about your existence once more.

“If what you say is true, why did he return?” Galadriel asked.

Exactly. Why?

Until now, you had foolishly been thinking that perhaps you were one of the reasons. That the very thought of you had been keeping him strong. He had even mentioned such things when you had reunited with him in Mordor for a brief moment.

But now you could see it even more clearly – how cold and distant he had been to you while you had been the one to devour him after centuries of separation. Oh, what a fool you had been and how you had humiliated yourself… 

“Because I had not yet found you,” Adar addressed Galadriel and you looked up angrily. You did not like his choice of words.

“What part am I to play in this?” Galadriel asked.

“It is said that the Three Elven Rings saved your kind from fading,” Adar told her. “Is it true?”

You wondered that, too. You had been with him when you both had received such “news” or rather “gossip” as you had thought of it back then. Lady Galadriel refused to answer, though, as she looked away.

“If it is, then perhaps together, this crown and your Rings would be powerful enough to truly destroy Sauron forever,” Adar informed her.

And once again you were torn – because even if it was true that Sauron had been using you and only that… If he was to be defeated, your whole life would lose its purpose. You had abandoned the Valar for him – your new and only god. If he truly stopped existing, a part of you would die with him surely. The part you had given away to him freely – nearly all of you.

“The Deceiver believes he is still beyond my grasp,” Adar continued, “but I know he hides in Eregion and I suspect you know for certain…” He hesitated with a smirk. “Halbrand is Sauron, isn't he?” He asked and you felt your blood turn even colder when you realised that your husband had seen through your lover’s disguise.

You had a feeling in your gut that he did but he had never told you anything about it, so you were hopeful it was only you being paranoid. But now, you were anxious again that he had seen through you as well.

Galadriel did not answer but what you saw on her face only proved to you once more that she loved the human king – one of your lover’s forms.

“The fate of that city now rests on your ability to put aside your pride,” Adar crouched down to look more intensely at Galadriel’s face. “I suggest you find the will to do so… If you can,” he added with contempt before standing up to take away Morgoth’s crown.

He returned to her to put her wrist in a shackle because she could not be trusted after her stunt with the dagger before but also – despite his sweet assurances – she was your prisoner.

“We will speak again,” your husband told her and offered you his hand to help you stand and leave with him but you shook your head. Adar nodded and left you two alone.

Long while of silence occurred between you two, in which you were debating with yourself on how much to reveal.

“An army,” you mocked her and she furrowed her brows at you. “He promised you to be his Queen,” you added and finally stood up to leave the table even though your legs were weak and trembling, which you managed to hide. You approached Galadriel slowly and leaned in to be face-to-face with the most beautiful of the Elven women.

“You reek of an Orc,” she pointed out and you laughed at that. It was nearly adorable how she was trying to change the subject. 

And, you had to admit, the only good thing coming out of this whole situation was to have her at your mercy. To toy with her was your greatest pleasure – to feel in control and to feel even more powerful. There was a time you had wanted to impress her but now you were disgusting her and it brought you nothing but satisfaction.

“How can you know anyway?” She asked as she met your gaze eventually, after a while of feeling your intense eyes on her and realising you were not willing to change the subject at all.

“I am gifted with an extraordinary intuition,” you teased. “Oh, how pathetic you must feel now… To know that Sauron himself offered you to be his Queen and you considered it for a while. What does that make you? Do you think you are worthy of all your titles now, Lady of Light?” You asked with contempt.

“And were you not offered the same?” Galadriel asked and your heart skipped a beat as your smirk froze. Did she…? Did she know…?

“What are you talking about?!” You barked at her, angrily, as you straightened your back.

“Adar,” she explained and you breathed out of relief. “Did he not promise you the crown? You accepted it. How does that make you feel? What does it make you?”

“He does not wish to be a King and I do not aspire to be a Queen by his side,” you informed Galadriel, which was no lie. “What we wish for is a home. You can pretend to be so righteous and strong amongst your kin, Lady Galadriel, but you and I know how weak you truly are,” you smirked and left the tent.

It was suffocating you at this point. The air inside of it, her intense gaze, the words spoken. You wanted to breathe in the forest and gather your thoughts because there were so many as your heart was broken into a million pieces.

You stared once more at the trees, in the direction of Eregion, and you wanted to reach out to Sauron but he was not answering, probably too busy with his schemes. The fact was – he never answered your calls. If there were any glimpses of the connection between your minds, it was always him initiating it.

“What are you thinking of?” You heard Adar’s voice behind you as he put his arm on your shoulder. “You seem to be upset.”

“I… I think we should go back home,” you turned around to face him now instead of the trees, Eregion and Sauron inside of it. And at the sight of Adar’s scarred face, your heart suddenly filled in with warmth.

“What do you mean?” Your husband furrowed his brows. “Were you not the one convincing me eagerly about marching to Eregion with our army?”

“Yes, but I am not so sure anymore. Please, trust my gut. Something has changed, I am not sure… I have a bad feeling,” you grabbed him by his sleeves as you clenched your fists around the fabric, desperately. Your eyes were looking up to meet his blue ones in a pleading manner and he was staring at you with so much devotion that you were sure he still had no idea of who you truly were despite finding out the truth about Halbrand.

Perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps it should stay this way. You wanted to go back to Mordor – to that godforsaken place you had turned into your new home recently. You wanted to live in peace and safety there alongside Adar. And you were not even sure if Sauron would ever come looking for you. He would eventually show up to get his revenge and his army but perhaps you would be able to prepare for it in time. But you doubted he would come there for you.

“I know the vision of this battle is unsettling to you,” Adar cupped your face gently, “and that you wish to be back home – so do I. We shall,” he nodded. “We shall go home but not until Sauron is defeated,” he reminded you and you smiled sadly.

It was a trap and you could not make him see it… You would have to reveal your part in it for him to realise it and that was something you were not ready for. So, instead, you went for something else.

“Can you hold me?” You asked and Adar was a little surprised but he did not say anything. “I want to feel safe.”

“Of course,” he nodded and wrapped his arms around you. You clinged to him like a little girl, wishing that you could freeze time.

To beg and plead for Adar to turn his army back after all the weeks of convincing him that it had been a good idea to march towards Eregion would be highly suspicious now. But you knew that the game was over anyway – it was too late to make him realise it was a trap without telling him the truth. And perhaps even after finding out about your purpose by his side, he would still decide to attack the Elven city.

You spent a whole day wandering around the forest nearby the camp. You found a tree that had fallen over and you sat under it, feeling the grass under your hands. In a way, you wished you had not found out the truth about being Sauron’s puppet – most likely.

Most likely, because you wanted to believe – you truly did – that his devotion and love towards you were true. However, if you started to believe that, wouldn’t that make you an even bigger fool?

You had ruined your maidenhood, your family and your home for him. And now you would ruin your new family, too. You would hand him out Adar to be killed and his children to become Sauron’s slaves. And what would you get in return? A dagger in your back since you would not be useful anymore? Or a crown? Would he truly give you any real power?

You were not even so sure if you wanted it, after all.

Tears streamed down your cheeks. Real, genuine tears. Because, for the first time in a long while, you did not know what to do – until now you had been waiting for Sauron, living for Sauron, worshipping Sauron. And now you were stripped of your faith and of your god but you still remained his servant. How could you stop it? You couldn’t even pray to the Valar anymore to help you – they would not listen to a fallen Elf.

When you heard a noise behind you, you suspected it would be Adar. But no, it was Glûg. You quickly sniffled your tears back and wiped your cheeks before cracking a smile at him.

“My Lady?” He asked, unsurely as he tilted his head at the sight of your tears.

“Yes, Uruk?” You asked him, trying to hide the deep amount of your sadness.

“Lord Father is looking for you,” he told you and you nodded before getting up and approaching him to go back to the camp.

“It is a pretty area of the forest, is it not?” You tried to ask him while pretending to be cheerful.

“I guess,” he shrugged his arms. He kept staring at you intensely with his small eyes. “Why are you sad, Dark Lady?”

“I already mourn all the Uruks that will die in the upcoming battle,” you smiled sadly at him.

How easy it was to spit out such soothing lies. It was not like you didn’t care what would happen to them – you had grown used to being around them. But it was also not like you truly mourned for them. However, such a lie rolled off of your tongue without much thought put into it.

Sauron had taught you well. But this time you felt bad about it instead of being proud about it.

Glûg nodded his head at you, sadly. That was when you entered the camp again and you spotted Adar amongst his children, explaining something to them. You ran up to him and wrapped your hands around his arm. He smiled adoringly at you.

“Come with me, let me show you,” you tried to convince him and you could see him hesitate. There was not much time to waste but he eventually agreed with a sigh and allowed you to walk him out of the camp.

You were starting to become his weakness.

You took him back to where Glûg had found you. It was truly a very beautiful place in the forest; so green and calm. The light was creeping in through the trees and you smiled at your husband as you caressed his cheeks and brushed his hair strands behind his pointy ears.

“Something about you in this light makes me believe I could truly be good once again,” Adar whispered to you in the Quenya language and you felt your heart clench inside your chest.

How could you betray him…?

“Damn the good. And damn the evil. Let us just be ourselves,” you answered. “Let us go home…”

“You know that we cannot. Not until he is no more,” your husband carefully and gently held your wrists to lower them away from his face. He placed soft kisses upon the palms of your hands and caressed them.

“Why do we have to come for him? Why can he not come for us? We could fight him in our own land, on our own terms,” you tried to convince him. “You know that this feeling in my gut… It is never wrong.”

“Yet it often changes its mind,” Adar smirked at that and you sighed.

You even opened your mouth, gathering courage to confess the truth in this beautiful place but the moment you were about to admit your sins, the very same courage abandoned you.

“It is beautiful here and I know you yearn for peace but we must go back,” Adar let go of one of your hands to caress your cheek with his rough fingertips. “You are the most beautiful lady in all Middle-earth,” he added in the Quenya language and you furrowed your brows at that when you began walking back to the camp.

“Where did it come from?” You asked with a nervous chuckle.

“I could sense your jealousy when I spoke with Lady Galadriel,” he answered. “As if her beauty could ever match yours.”

“You must be blind then, my poor Adar. She is known for being the fairest of the Elven ladies,” you shook your head but a playful sparkle lit up your eyes.

“That is an easy kind of beauty and I do not seek easiness in anything,” your husband answered with all seriousness.

And the thing with Adar was that you just knew that his words were genuine and they were not prepared beforehand with some hidden agenda.

It was dark already when Adar and you were informed that Lady Galadriel was ready to speak again. You went back inside your tent where she had been kept for a whole day and you stood in front of her, still sitting on the chair.

“Yes. Halbrand is Sauron,” Galadriel started as the silence was growing heavy between you all. Your jaw twitched slightly as it clenched at her words. “He’s in Eregion to craft Rings that will allow him to dominate my kind. And yours.”

“Every kind in Middle-earth,” Adar added.

“But he will not attempt escape until his task is complete,” Galadriel laid her eyes upon you now. “And that gives us a momentary advantage.”

“Us?” You raised an eyebrow at her

Galadriel moved her hand in shackles and looked back at your husband, angrily.

“Unlock me,” she ordered.

Adar looked at you and you nodded at him even though you were not sure if it was a good idea to do so. He approached her to unchain her and she kept glancing at him with a mix of anger but also curiosity.

“As we speak, Elrond hastens from Lindon with an army of Elves,” she revealed. “And Nenya – my Ring.”

“I see,” Adar turned around to join your side again.

“Once he arrives, he will seal off the city,” Galadriel stood up as she spoke, “loose Celebrimbor from Sauron’s grasp, and then together, Uruks, you and I will eradicate all trace of Sauron from this world. Never to return,” she finished.

Uruks. You had been told by her or by your lover that you reeked of them. But you had never been called one.

“And what then?”Adar asked.

“Any Rings that have known his touch must be destroyed,” Galadriel stated.

“I meant, what then for the Uruk?” Adar furrowed his brow. “Will your High King permit us to return home in peace? Or will he proceed with his plans to invade Mordor?” He asked and Galadriel did not answer because what could she possibly tell? She was known to be an Orc-slayer. “The shadow has not only overcome you, it has overcome all Elvendom. In the end, your drive to prove your virtue will work right into Sauron’s designs.”

“You speak lies,” Galadriel shook her head as she spoke through gritted teeth. “Hoping I will reveal something.”

“You have already revealed everything I hoped you would and more,” Adar answered calmly and walked out of the tent.

He did not even look at you because he was so focused on the battle that was to come – he had his confirmation about Halrand being Sauron. About him being in Eregion. Now he was an unstoppable force.

“Adar…” You called out for him but he was out of the tent already.

You looked at Galadriel with a sigh before gathering your skirts and rushing out after him. So did she.

“It is time!” Your husband announced in Black Speech to his children. You were pretty fluent in this language by now. 

“All of Eregion may well be under Sauron’s control by now,” Galadriel was trying to make him realise the truth. “It will take far more than a legion of your children to lay siege to it!”

But Adar was leading her to the edge of the hill from where the real power of your army could be seen. The truth be told – most of the Orcs had left Mordor to march towards Eregion. You had been the one insisting on that back in the day.

“Did you really think I would attempt to challenge the might of Sauron with a single legion?” Adar asked and stopped as he looked down at your soldiers below the hill. You stood behind him and you had to admit – the view was admirable and was filling you with pride. However, you knew very well that those poor and filthy creatures were being led into a trap.

“Now that you have confirmed beyond any doubt who he is and told me who carries your Ring, Eregion will fall,” Adar turned his head around to look at Galadriel with a smirk. “And Sauron with it.”

“No…” Galadriel looked down, visibly overthinking something. “This must be what he wants. Sauron has no army of his own, so he’s lured yours here instead,” she laid her eyes upon Adar as your heart skipped a beat.

She even found your eyes, too, as if she was trying to make you see the truth your husband could not. She was able to see the treachery but she still could not see the deceiver. You suddenly realised Halbrand’s task had not been very difficult.

“He wants you to attack Eregion,” she added but you remained still. It would be suspicious to agree with her words eagerly but you hoped she would make Adar change his mind. After all, he wanted to protect his children the most.

“Bind her. She will be useful later,” he ordered instead and three Orcs hurried to your side to grab Galadriel.

Of course. The love he had for his children would always be overshadowed by his hatred towards Sauron. His personal revenge, his own retribution.

“I beg you…” Galadriel addressed Adar but he ignored her so she laid her eyes upon you. “Do not let your husband be a fool! Do not do this! Do not take his lure!”

Her desperate words and her behaviour as she was being dragged away by the Orcs were sending a shiver down your spine because you could see yourself in her – you could see yourself doing the same to protect him but you could not.

You were terrified of Adar’s reaction after finding out the truth about you. He would never trust you again.

And, after all, Sauron’s grasp around your heart was still tight and painful. Perhaps you were only a tool in his scheme but you still did not wish for his downfall or his death.

“I will make him choke on it,” Adar remarked.

“No!” Galadriel shouted. “You mustn’t. This is all his design! This is what Sauron wants! Whatever forces were encouraging you to come here were his!”

You looked away, nervously.

Thankfully, your husband was too occupied with his thirst for the battle to truly think about Galadriel’s words. She had no idea, of course, that it had been you encouraging Adar to march with his armies towards Eregion. But she had said one sentence too much.

Glûg handed Adar a war horn but he did it hesitantly, causing his Lord Father’s impatience. The Orc was visibly worried and startled by Galadriel’s screams and warnings.

Adar was not, however. He blew the horn and a malicious feeling filled your heart – there was no way back.

Your betrayal was definite as you had just brought Sauron his army.

MASTERLIST

[mistresscitrusslice]

The Season 2 Opening. We Must Discuss.

First of all, small beans. Instead of static, lifeless statues, this time we get moving humans. Mel features significantly more than I expected, so she'll probably be a much more major character than I expected for a non-champion character and I'm so happy for her. I believe the use of moving people instead of statues signifies that immense change will be happening. What we thought was literally set in stone in Season 1 will be turned on its head in Season 2.

Okay, on to the really concerning matters.

Yuhuh. Jinx moves too fast for me to get a good screenshot, but she gestures like this around her face a lot. I think we all already know about the Caitlyn-Jinx parallels, but my sister suggests it could be a red herring for the actual resemblances she has to Silco.

Sis gets credit for the following observation, but Caitlyn's daydream sequences about shooting Jinx are controlled and clearly separated from reality unlike Jinx's.

However, sis has not seen ep 2 yet, where Caitlyn does have that moment in the arcade where she shoots her vision of Jinx among the wooden dummies. Not only does this more closely resemble Jinx's hallucinations, it also parallels Jinx shooting the harmless crow in s1 e5. By the time the strike squad are about to leave, she can clearly tell that what she thought might be Jinx was really just a harmless wooden standee. Startling, but harmless. She shoots it anyway.

Caitlyn is totally gonna spiral more, and maybe she'll start losing her grip on reality too, but for now, she has more in common with Silco than she does with Jinx. Did anyone else get reminded of Silco's coat when Ambessa put the supervillain cape on Caitlyn? The collars don't look similar but they still eerily resemble each other, you get me?

Ok back to intro stuff

Vi wipes off her name from her face. That's two tattoos that are rendered impermanent in this opening theme. In the Fenty x Arcane video, they mention that Mel's golden freckles are tattoos. Later in the intro song, we also see her golden freckles gone. Change, impermanence. That seems to be a theme here.

Vi is literally erasing her name from her face. In any normal circumstance, I'd say that means she wants a change of identity, a desire to start over. However, I know that Vi's League lore involves amnesia. Does she really drink herself into that bad of a stupor? Jkjk. I assumed that her amnesia was replaced by the Stillwater imprisonment to explain how she got topside and with the enforcers, but perhaps I was wrong. Maybe they do still intend to go the amnesia or partial amnesia route with her.

The teasers implied that Vi shares the genetic trait that has Jinx predisposed to hallucinations. It's possible that this eventually contributes to her loss of memory, but I wouldn't call it quite yet. However, if this happens during her emo era when I'm assuming she has no support system, she'll be very vulnerable, unlike if it were to happen while she was still partnered with Caitlyn, in which case they could easily fill in most blanks in her memory.

I have no idea what to make of this. It's clear as day what they're paralleling, but why? Why the flashlight scene? My best guess is that they're trying to draw on déjà vu, implying a repetition of history, but why this particular moment? They could've easily chosen anything else in Jayce's s1 arc. He has many more memorable moments than this. Let's see, I'm literally making this up as I go.

This meeting was a pivotal moment for Jayce. Both his meeting with Viktor and his meeting with Mel changed his fate. The Viktor one is pretty self-explanatory, but without meeting Mel, they would've both just gotten exiled or locked up again. With Mel, they had someone in power who could vouch for them.

That begs the question, is Jayce meeting someone new? Or is this a reintroduction to someone he's already known before, a new meeting after a long time apart or after a significant change, maybe a change in them both. I believe it must be someone who was involved in the original hallway scene.

Jayce is either looking at Mel again or at Viktor. Given the amount of Viktor/Mel parallels in Season 1, I believe Jayce is looking at Viktor after he's undergone his likely final evolution. That'll obviously be another pivotal moment for him... but will it be a good one like it was with Mel? Viktor has power now. He's performing miracles. He's, like, two steps away from parting the Pilt River like it's the Red Sea. He seems to hold a grudge against Jayce, though, for *checks notes* saving his life? Jk I know he feels like he's losing autonomy and like Jayce didn't respect his wishes with the Hexcore and Jayce obviously couldn't let Viktor die when he'd fought so hard to stay alive before.

Anyway, I feel like this could easily be both a good omen and a bad omen for Jayce. More than anything, I feel like it'll be an epiphany. He is quite literally seeing the light. The light at the end of the dark tunnel? The light of the heavens at the end of his life? The light of a revelation sent by a god he once knew as a man?

Seeing Mel screaming bloody murder during the opening, this was the first place my mind went to. The pose doesn't match up exactly, and Jinx/Powder's screams are definitely wilder, but I feel like there's definitely something here. Is there anyone else who screams like this, thrusting their head forward and keeping their arms back?

We also see the shadow hands from this earlier shot:

I'm thinking of the Black Rose (is that their name?) kidnapping her in thin air, incorporeal hands reaching at her and snatching my joy the love of my life Mel away. It could also represent people grasping at the power Mel wields, both as the wealthiest Council member and as a Noxian princess, one of the closest people to Ambessa, the one wielding the most power right now.

Mel is really out of her depth right now. Her power and influence is up for grabs if she dares to blink and let her guard down. I'm also surprised that we don't see her fight back at all when there's danger around. I thought she might have more battle experience as she was raised by Ambessa. For those people wondering about her magical powers, I think she would've used them by now if she had them. Council attack aside, which could've been Viktor's magic, she wasn't able to do anything about the memorial attack or her own kidnapping. I think they're trying to show us that Mel is not as untouchable as she presents herself. Under the right circumstances, she's just as vulnerable as any civilian.

The sliver of light? My sister pointed out that it looks just like the crack of light between two double doors. Almost closed... or barely open? It appears in pretty much everyone's shot in the opening, but it's right down the center of Mel's face here. Is she torn between two sides? Is this about an impossible choice she has to make?

The spotlight is also on her. That's two sources of light. It looks like a red sun. All eyes on her as the surviving voice of the Council?

And her expression... shock, fear, horror. The heavy breathing, the look on her face... I feel eerily like I've seen it on someone else before. I can't place who, but I'm getting déjà vu from this. Does anyone else recognize this expression and these mannerisms?

[suzukiblu]

Day nine of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems that causes for someone who was in that situation and hasn’t processed it trying to have a relationship with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Tim doesn't let himself kiss Kon for quite as long as he wants to this time. He doesn't want to say he doesn't want to move too fast and then get them both all riled up five seconds later and, well–undercut that, or whatever. Or seem like he didn’t actually mean it, maybe. 

Also he does still need to make sure Kon’s gotten in enough calories today; he definitely still needs to do that. There’s gotta be a decent place they can get in last-minute with a carefully-applied bribe or two, if nothing else. Kon deserves “nice”, still, and also Tim is not gonna half-ass the date after that conversation. Whole-ass all the way. 

“Um,” he says, clearing his throat again. Kon grins all sunny and pretty at him and it is a very, very flustering sight. Tim wants to smudge his eyeliner and mess up his hair and buy him an entire apartment block, or at least a suburb or two. “Wanna find someplace to eat? Maybe look through a couple shops on the way?” 

“Oh, just a couple, huh?” Kon teases, his grin widening giddily. Tim feels very flustered. 

“I mean, we are in the shopping district,” Tim says, refusing to admit to any embarrassment about being that easily seen-through. He has an entire lifestyle to fund for Kon here, alright, and that he is gonna not only whole-ass but double-ass. Triple-ass, maybe. Quadruple. 

. . . though modeling age-appropriate relationship behaviors was already gonna be hard enough with how little personal dating experience he has, much less the sugar daddy thing. 

Yeah, that’s gonna require some planning. 

“And that was totally an accident, right?” Kon asks with a laugh that is actually more like a giggle than anything else, which Tim’s brain unhelpfully burns down an entire metaphorical warehouse district about. 

“I plead the fifth,” he says, tugging Kon back onto the sidewalk, and Kon giggles again and ducks his head as he shakes it, squeezing his hands one last time before letting go of one to follow him more easily. Tim feels stupidly wooed and soft and definitely wants to destroy the lives of everyone who has ever so much as mildly inconvenienced the adorable bastard. Kon wasn’t cute before, dammit. He was not prepared for Kon to turn out to be cute. 

“You are literally fucking ridiculous, babe, I hope you know that,” Kon tells him, still grinning as his face flushes again and tugging the collar of his jacket up over his mouth with his free hand. “Like, you actually got me a friggin’ flower, you friggin’ nerd. Like–seriously?” 

Tim can’t help suspecting Kon’s joking about that because flowers and cute little dating clichés aren’t the kind of thing he thinks anyone should bother doing for him, which honestly at this point seems like a pattern of behavior. Especially after earlier. Which–it's not like he didn't go into this already knowing that Kon's loudly overinflated self-esteem and cocky attitude was partially bluster and self-defense, but the more time they spend together like this, the more it seems less like “partially”, and more like “entirely”. 

Tim is going to get this adorable bastard so many flowers as soon as he gets him in a cul-de-sac to be keeping them in. He is gonna keep Kon in flowers until the goddamn heat-death of the goddamn universe. He’ll get a florist and set up a weekly order of varying tropical flowers and make sure the neighborhood is full of flowering bushes and trees and bring a bouquet to at least two dates a month, if not just literally every single one of them. 

“I wanted to,” he replies with a shrug, because that sounds more normal to say than any of the rest of it and sincerity seems to be the most efficient way to cut the legs out from underneath any attempts Kon’s making at downplaying the point of the gesture. “I was hoping you'd like it.” 

Kon turns red, then ducks his head and grins helplessly wide, still half-hiding his mouth behind his jacket collar. Tim feels an irrational urge to smother him. Like, affectionately, he means, but also kind of literally. 

Maybe he has some wires crossed right now, given how much of a workout the supervillain timeline’s been getting lately.

[intrepidacious]

❤️ a good time!

tat!bucky’s favorite (or least favorite) thing about twelve

… why not both?

cause and effect

chapter summary: How Bucky fell in love with Twelve: Slowly, and then all at once.

pairing: bucky barnes x time witch!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: light angst and negative self talk (this is bucky y'all); some light pining 🤭please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: i've literally had this one in my drafts for about two years and i hadn't actually planned on posting it for a while yet but i did promise distractions. and i missed him. i always do.

this is part of the time after time universe but can be read as a teaser and/or a standalone 💚

Bucky’s relationship with time has been fractured ever since a cold day in January that stole away the life he was headed towards and turned him into the monster underneath a child’s bed.

It’s hard to feel good about the concept of time travel once a lot of your own time has been taken away from you. Even now, there’s only so many things in his life he has control over; like the fact that he’s actively choosing to go back to therapy now, or that he’s able to keep a pet for the first time since he was thirteen years old. Stupid little things, like what kind of food he wants for lunch or whether he should take the stairs or the elevator.

Every single one of these things he’s fought for tooth and nail, clawing his way out of the past and carving out his own space in reality again, struggling, trying, hanging on like he wasn’t able to all those decades ago.

He’s probably still failing.

Some days, clinging to the present is tense and brings him nothing but grief. Sometimes, it feels like he’s going to have to mourn the past forever, whatever might have been; and maybe that’s his sentence.

He wouldn’t have wished it on anyone. He deserves worse.

And then there’s you.

Flickering in and out of time, constantly moving, changing in the time it takes him to blink.

It’s infuriating to him, the way you get to use your powers. The way you don’t need to think about consequences, because they don’t have to be permanent, don’t have to be something you need to live with for the rest of your life. To you, time has always been something that can be changed with a single snap of your fingers. Whatever you do can just as easily be undone.

Once you decide you’ve seen enough, you can just take the scene from the top.

And you’re so stubborn.

You’ve already seen how this goes on if you let it, and so you’re always right, end of story. There’s an ease to your steps because of it, a nonchalance in every movement, and it makes Bucky’s blood boil to see it so plainly.

With all the good that you could do, you choose to do nothing instead; to stay out of the picture entirely and burn through your powers just because you can, wasting them all on things that don’t mean anything.

How many lives could you potentially save?

Instead, you consume disturbing amounts of caffeine and then continue to provide running commentary to the world around you based on things that, to him, never happen at all. "Do this", "don’t do that", "take the other one", or, his absolute favorite, "don’t make me fix that".

Why not? he wants to ask, say, demand. Why not fix all of it?

It takes a while for him to realize that all of your fire means you’re burning from both ends. In fact, it takes Becca.

"You should bring her by sometime," she tells him on a rainy afternoon. "While I’m still alive and kicking."

His little sister just turned ninety-eight. Her kitchen sideboard is filled with black-and-white pictures reminding him of all the things in her life that he missed, arranged in perfect little wooden frames.

"And why would I do that?" Bucky asks, scowling at his cards.

"Because you keep mentioning her," Rebecca says dryly and whisks the cards onto her pile with quick fingers.

"You gotta be kidding me," he groans, noting down her points. "And I don’t."

"Do, too. I don’t remember you being this terrible at this game."

"Because I haven’t caught you when you’re cheating."

"Exactly. It’s embarrassing." She wins the next trick, too. "How’s Tuesday?"

"Am I clairvoyant now?"

"I was thinking lunch."

"No." Finally, he gets a couple of points down. When he glances up at his sister again, she’s looking at him expectantly and he sighs. "What?"

"You can’t fault me for being curious," she says. She has just as many opinions as she did when she was sixteen. Her eyes are still the same, too, the same shade of blue as his and the same glimmer of archness as their mother.

"Don’t you think it’s weird?" Bucky says, finally giving in. "The whole … time thing?"

"I think it’s very weird, but so’s you returning from the dead and kvetching about it." Her eyes narrow when he starts to protest. His mouth closes again. "Besides," she continues, shuffling her hand around, "it doesn’t sound all that fun."

"To have the power to never make mistakes?"

"To have to live through every mistake twice without anyone knowing."

Something about her words strikes him like a match, and so he tilts his head and squints at her and thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s got it wrong.

That you carry not only your past, but all the futures you’ve seen that never came to be; all the what ifs having turned into answers.

And he thinks, how nice. And then he thinks, how horrifying.

It’s a thought that follows him over the next couple of weeks, and it starts reframing your interactions for him, in a way.

"Will you stop staring at me," you say without looking up from your book.

Honestly, he can’t. He’s still trying to pick up on it, the split second between before and after, that little change of your posture, your hair, your face, that tells him more time has passed for you than it has for him.

It’s more of a feeling than anything else, something right at the back of his mind telling him that something is different if he concentrates on it enough, but he’s never sure what it is. And he doesn’t like that; not one bit.

So Bucky crosses his arms and leans back. "Why?"

A flash of irritation makes your nose twitch, even though you still refuse to meet his eye.

"It’s rude, for one."

"Noted." He waits for the two that never comes. "Anything else?"

And there it is. A blink-and-you-miss-it kind of moment, like the air shifting around you ever so slightly, a certain knowing glint in your eyes when you roll them and get up.

"Annoying!"

He can’t help it. He wonders what your original answer was.

***

Bucky’s relationship with time changes slowly, the deepest cuts carefully mending themselves until looking back doesn’t feel like getting his bones ripped apart anymore, until he looks at you on a cold day in January and realizes he’s fucked.

At first, he hopes that it might be a fluke. A trick of the light, maybe, or seasonal allergies. That’s the reason why his eyes are drawn to your face as soon as he enters a room; the closest source of discomfort always the thing he seeks out first. That’s the reason why his chest constricts like that.

But the truth is, he knows this feeling has been building slowly; he’s just been unwilling to admit it.

Something soft and delicate has started to nestle in that gaping hole inside his chest, unbothered by the walls he’s so carefully built up.

He’d never planned on you.

Fuck, if he’d known in the beginning, he might’ve …

No, he thinks. He wouldn’t have changed anything.

Because you’re too good for him, anyway, and he knows it. Smart and strong and funny and gorgeous and capable of things he’s not sure he’ll ever fully comprehend; and it’s worse than that, because he knows you now.

You’re grouchy in the mornings and you make terrible jokes when you’re nervous and you have a strange feud with his cat and your smile makes him want to put his fist through the wall because what is he supposed to do with any of this?

He’s not made for this dance anymore. That part was taken from him so long ago, and he’s delusional to think that anything or anyone could return it to him after all the bridges he’d been made to cross and burn. Why would someone like him deserve to be given tenderness anymore in this life? Why would anyone want to try?

But that foolish thing blooming inside him feels a lot like hope, despite of what he keeps telling himself.

There’s just something about you that keeps pulling him in, and honestly, he’s tired of fighting it. Then again, the thought of you feeling the same is nothing short of ridiculous.

He’s not the same guy as he used to be. Hell, sometimes he’ll look at old photographs and barely recognize himself.

He remembers life before, and maybe that’s what makes this so hard. He remembers talking to pretty girls, their bright smiles, their soft skin underneath his hands. Good times were easy to come by, even though life was hard in a different way, then. But he was good at it; acting on his feelings alone used to be simple, fun, second-nature almost.

It’s different now.

It used to be different only once before, and look where that’s gotten him.

No, he can’t say anything. Not ever; or not yet, at any rate.

Sometimes, though, Bucky lies awake at night and listens to the rain knocking against his window, and he remembers how much easier falling asleep used to be when he had someone next to him and his mattress didn’t swallow him alive.

He’ll remember the dark circles under your eyes and wish it could be as easy as asking, too. He wonders if there’s a universe you remember where he tries, but he doubts it.

These days, he knows his mind again. And it’s not a burden he wants to share.

You have enough to carry on your own.

Maybe, he thinks as he stares up at the ceiling at three in the morning, maybe there’s still a certain comfort in your powers, in knowing all the possibilities, but it also means constantly losing something that’s real; always mourning the life that isn’t.

He can relate to that.

And maybe that means you can relate to him, too, at least a little bit.

It’s odd, how comforting that last little thought is to him.

When he does eventually fall asleep, you make your way into his dreams, too, sometimes. Those times are the worst.

You’re you, and he’s him, and there’s a sort of "us" in the both of you that doesn’t exist in real life. So when you let him lace his fingers with yours and press your lips to his forehead and it feels easy, that’s usually the point when he wakes up, heart tumbling over itself, right hand tracing the ghost of your touch, always too much, never enough.

He knows it’s not real.

He knows it’s just an indulgence; selfish, really.

The problem is that whatever small hope has decided to settle in his very core is impossible to kill, no matter how much he pushes it down; and he’s not sure he wants to lose it again.

Secretly, silently, serendipitously, you make him have faith in the future again.

But it’s not time for it yet.

if you want to read more about these two (plus a lot of time related shenanigans), read the main series here. or check out the rest of my bucky fics, that's also an option 💚 i don't do tag lists but you can follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 3 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW: All hail severely traumatized Reader.

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

The moment you stepped out of the Hanging Gardens, the city of Seoul came crashing into your senses. The bustling noise, the chatter of strangers, the blaring car horns—it was overwhelming. After so many years surrounded only by the whispering leaves and the sound of distant waterfalls in your domain, this city felt like a whole other world. Yet, you had no time to marvel at it.

Your first thought was him. The young hunter who, in the original story, would one day transform from the weakest E-rank hunter to the world’s most formidable force. You had seen his journey play out on the pages of a manhwa, and even though this was your reality now, you still thought of it as a story. Perhaps that was the only way you could cope.

Jinwoo. The name was a whisper in your mind, a mantra you repeated as you sent out your butterflies to search for him. They flitted into the sky, through alleyways, dodged bustling crowds, and skimmed across rooftops, invisible to everyone but you, its compound eyes transmitting a dizzying aerial view of the city straight to your mind. You kept your focus tight, pushing down the nerves that gnawed at your stomach.

But your search was interrupted by a sudden shift in the air around you. The city's mood had changed in an instant. People on the street stopped, their heads turning upwards, eyes glued to the enormous screens on the skyscrapers. As the images on the screen flickered into view, a chill you down your spine.

It was chaos. The screens showed devastation—images of buildings crumbling, fire and smoke engulfing the skyline, and a massive gate that loomed ominously above it all.

The first S-rank gate—the one from which Kamish, soon to be the most feared dragon in history, first emerged. You stood frozen, your eyes widening as the scenes played out in real-time.

“No…” You breathed out, barely a whisper, your hands shaking.

Even watching it on the screen was entirely different from reading about it on the pages of the manhwa. It was real now. Too real. The ground beneath you seemed to tilt as civilians screamed and hunters rushed into action. The casualties. Oh God, the casualties. The sight of corpses being pulled from rubble, the screams and cries of civilians and hunters alike echoed through your mind long after the broadcast ended. The dread spread through you like ice.

If I’d just managed to get out sooner, you thought, the guilt and horror churning in your stomach. If I’d escaped the Gardens just a year earlier, or even a few months…

Surely you couldn’t have stopped the gate from opening, but could you have evacuated more people? Shielded them with your powers? Reduced the casualties? Your mind raced with possibilities, spiraling in your inability to actively turn back time in a scale that large.

Could I have made a difference? Could I have saved even a single life?

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, heart pounding. The "what ifs" started to spiral, pulling you deeper into a pit of guilt and self-recrimination. Your fingers dug into your palms as you tried to regain control. Just as the world around you blurred from the tears stinging your eyes, there was a gentle nudge at the edge of your consciousness, yet the swirling visions just made you want to empty out your stomach.

Through your shared vision with the butterfly, there he was, younger than you expected— around sixteen or seventeen, a teenager, though he looked like he’d grown up too fast. His frame was slimmer, not yet the broad-shouldered man you knew he’d become. He was dressed in a faded school uniform, his eyes carrying the weariness of someone who had already seen too much. The lines of his face were taut with worry, a haunted look lurking in his gaze. An expression you’d often seen through the pages, etched into his older self.

You swallowed hard, your fingers trembling. If…If I had been here sooner, would things have been different for you?

Your mind wandered to another possibility—his father. Would you have been able to prevent the disappearance of Sung Il-Hwan if you’d arrived two years earlier? Could you have kept Jinwoo from bearing the weight of that loss, the look of pain he now wore like a permanent scar?

Though his mother was still with him now, you could see the faint shadow of the pain he carried even now. Could you have helped him avoid the countless sleepless nights, the burden he’d shouldered in silence for years?

But reality was harsh, and you couldn’t change the past. A hollow ache settled deep inside you, thoughts haunted you, sticking like thorns in your mind.

---

The following years were a blur of watching from the shadows, helping where you could without being noticed. You couldn’t save everyone, but you could lessen the burdens on the boy you had grown to care for. The butterflies you sent to heal his mother and alleviate her pain seemed to help, if only a little. But that look—that haunted, broken look in Jinwoo’s eyes whenever he thought no one was watching—it gnawed at your heart.

It was during one of those quiet nights, as Jinwoo and the rest of the world slept soundly, that you decided to take a more desperate measure. Jinwoo’s mother was showing signs of the dreaded Eternal Sleep disease, the same way she had in the manhwa. You had placed a protective spell around her to shield her from excessive mana exposure, but it hadn’t been enough.

No, not again... please, not again. You couldn't bear it. You refused to let Jinwoo suffer the same pain twice.

There has to be a way to save her, you thought, teeth clenched. The pages of the manhwa didn’t reveal much about Eternal Sleep, but you took a gamble. If exposure to mana was the cause, then maybe you could draw the mana out of her system.

The hospital was quiet that night, the corridors bathed in a cold, sterile glow. You slipped in under the cover of darkness, cloaking yourself and the room in an illusion. Her face was pale and serene, and she seemed to hover somewhere between sleep and consciousness, untouched by the turmoil around her.

You took a steadying breath, summoning the butterflies close and feeling their power surge within you. Your children hovered around her bed; their wings softly glowing as they began to absorb the excess mana from her frail body.

“Please… let this work,” you whispered.

Focusing on your intent, you reached out with your healing magic, channeling the butterflies to draw mana out of her body. It was delicate work, like trying to remove poison from a deep wound without disturbing the tissue around it. Sweat trickled down your temple as you focused, your hands trembling with the effort. You could feel it working; her breathing grew steadier, the tension in her muscles slowly unwinding.

“Yes, yes… this is working…” you whispered to yourself. Little by little, traces of mana were being drawn away from her, and with every second, your heart beat faster with hope for the first time in years.

But then, as if someone had flipped a switch, everything came crashing down.

[Warning! Trial Player is not permitted to alter this part of the storyline.]

The system’s notification blarred before your eyes in blinding red text. You shook your head, gritting your teeth.

“No, no! I can’t stop now! Just a little more and she’ll—” You breathed, ignoring it, pushing yourself harder. You could feel the system’s cold disapproval as it listed penalties— deductions in your stats, loss of your domain privileges, even the risk of a forced expulsion back to the Gardens, warnings, threats, each one harsher than the last. But you didn’t care. If there was a chance, even the slightest one, that Jinwoo could have his mother healthy and safe, you’d risk any penalty.

[Initiating first protocol: Trial Player is restricted from interfering with main events.]

“No! Please!” You screamed in your mind, pushing harder, trying to siphon the last remnants of mana from her body. An invisible force tightened around you, harsh and unyielding. It was like trying to wade through thick mud, each step harder than the last, until finally, the force slammed into you, and you were thrown back, the butterflies flung away from you as the spell shattered.

Your body hit the wall with a sickening thud. You let out a gasp, clutching your ribs as you tried to regain your balance. An invisible barrier had been erected between you and Jinwoo’s mother, solid and unyielding. Your butterflies fluttered helplessly against it, unable to pass through.

“No… No, no, no!” you screamed, cried, banging and clawing against the barrier until your hands were raw and bleeding. But it wouldn’t budge. The tears blurring your vision and cascaded down your cheeks in rivulets.

The system’s cold, unfeeling voice echoed in your mind. You couldn’t register the subtle unfamiliar desperation other than your own. [Trial Player, cease all attempts to alter key story events, or face permanent penalties.]

A sob tore from your throat as you slid to the ground, your shoulders shaking. “Please,” you sobbed, your forehead pressed against the barrier. “Please, let me help her...”

The silence a sledgehammer that you had failed. All your efforts, your desperate attempts to change the course of events, had been for nothing. The realization hit you like a knife to the gut.

No matter how much you tried, no matter how desperately you wished to change things for the better, the system wouldn’t allow it. It had let you toy with minor events, heal minor wounds, but when it came to the story’s crucial turning points, you were powerless.

The what-ifs that had haunted you since you’d first stepped into this world were answered in the cruelest way. Even if you had left the Hanging Gardens sooner, even if you had arrived in time to save Jinwoo’s father or cure his mother, you would have been stopped.

For the second time since you had been isekai’d, you felt utterly, hopelessly trapped. You were no longer a player with some semblance of control. For all your power, for all your knowledge of the future, you were nothing more than a helpless spectator to a story that would unfold exactly as it had always meant to. You were a mere observer, bound to the whims of a story you could never truly change.

All you could do was watch, from the shadows, as the boy you loved continued to suffer. As something inside you continued to crack.

You drew your knees to your chest, burying your face in your arms, letting the sobs wrack your body. For once, you let yourself feel the weight of your powerlessness, the despair that had been building in your heart for years.

In the darkness of that hospital room, the weight settled over you like a suffocating blanket. And all you could do was cry. This was no longer the story you had loved. This was your reality. And you were utterly powerless to change it.

---

You stumbled out of the hospital, numb and hollow, the world blurring around you. The voices of passing strangers, the hum of distant traffic—it all faded, leaving only an aching silence in your heart. You wandered without aim, letting the sorrow settle, the bitter knowledge clawing at you. How many years had you spent dreaming of a way to help him, of a way to change his fate? And for what?

Back in the Hanging Gardens, you’d felt trapped and powerless, but there had always been hope. Now, that last ember was snuffed out, leaving only darkness in its place.

As you returned to your hidden space in the city, you couldn’t shake the feeling of helplessness. It was like a familiar, cruel reminder of your first days in the Gardens, alone, struggling to survive in a world that hadn’t wanted you. And now, here you were again, unable to do anything but watch as the story unfolded as if you were still on the outside.

-----

The city had begun to grow familiar over the years, but the feeling of unease and disquiet never truly left. In this world of hunters, dungeons, and chaos, you weren’t exactly a normal citizen, though you’d tried your best to blend in. You made a life here, a life woven carefully to avoid standing out, hiding a fraction of your power and even more of your knowledge.

The first step to living a new life in this world was a matter of practicality: identity. You needed to establish yourself as a citizen of Seoul. But just as you were puzzling over how to manage something as complex as legal documents, the system—your ever-watchful, omnipotent shadow—seemed to have anticipated your needs.

You stared down at your supposedly birth certificate and identification card, your name printed clearly beneath a picture of a face that felt both like yours and... not. Relief was short-lived, turning to a sickening churn in your stomach. What happened to her? The question gnawed at you in quiet moments. This girl, this "you" of this world, had her life been erased to make room for your presence? Had she died before you arrived? Or, worse yet, had she been destined to die, and the system had simply taken advantage?

You tried to ask the system directly. “What happened to... the original?” you whispered, feeling a tremor in your voice. But, predictably, the system remained silent, its screen blinking away without an answer.

It left you with grim speculations. The more you thought about it, the more it felt like a noose tightening around your conscience. On sleepless nights, the thought haunted you: somewhere, in some unmarked corner of this world, the original (Name) might be lying forgotten.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to the wind one night, your voice barely audible. You were sitting in the Hanging Gardens, surrounded by the flowers you’d nurtured into bloom with your magic. The air was filled with the scent of roses and jasmine, a comforting balm against your troubled mind. “I promise... I’ll make a place for you here.” A way to remember her in the only way you could.

When you had a rare moment of free time, you returned to the depths of the Gardens. Deep within its heart, you found a secluded spot, a quiet clearing where the sunlight filtered through leaves, casting gentle dappled shadows. It was here that you began to build a small tomb, using stones and flowers enchanted with your magic.

It took days to finish. You poured your heart into it, weaving protective wards and spells into every petal, every blade of grass. You carved her name—your name, really—and when it was done, you placed a simple plaque: For the one who came before me. May you find peace.

Your hands clasped together; you couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over. This was your way of making amends, a fragile attempt to honor a life you had never known.

You stood there for a long while, the only sound the gentle rustling of your butterfly summons as they hovered, curious yet respectful.

“Thank you,” you whispered, not sure who you were even speaking to. Was it gratitude for the life you now had, or a farewell to the life you’d unknowingly taken?

---

After sorting out your papers and putting that grim thought to rest, you turned to the next task: becoming a hunter. You needed a way to sell the monster drops from your domain without drawing too much attention. Those materials were too valuable to ignore, and your stash from the Hanging Gardens had been growing, with enchanted trinkets and rare plants you’d carefully cultivated over the years.

With your identity settled, the next task was securing your place in this new world. You needed to establish yourself as a hunter, and quickly. The aftermath of the catastrophic gate and Kamish’s rampage had left the world desperate for capable hunters. S-rank hunters had fallen, and fear gripped the public. What if another gate like that one appeared? What then?

The Hunter Association was overrun with applications, both from hopefuls and seasoned hunters alike, eager to prove their worth. You knew your capabilities exceeded those of even high-rank hunters, but revealing your full power would draw unwanted attention. The last thing you needed was to be a target for the Hunter Bureau or one of the powerful guilds that dominated South Korea’s hunter landscape.

Suppressing your powers took everything you had. It was like trying to hold back a tidal wave with nothing but your bare hands. But you managed. After a few practice sessions cloaked in the safety of the Hanging Gardens, you learned how to cloak your true strength, masking it just enough to appear as a C-rank healer.

The evaluation day was chaotic, with hunters and administrators bustling around, trying to keep things moving. You stood in line, trying to ignore the stares from the other applicants. You kept your head down, focusing on the role you had to play.

“Next, please!” the examiner called, gesturing you forward.

You stepped up to the designated area. The sensation of being probed by the assessment device was unpleasant, like icy fingers brushing against your soul. But you kept your facade intact, holding your breath as the machine beeped.

“C-rank healer,” the examiner announced with a bored tone, scribbling notes on his clipboard.

You let out a silent sigh of relief, bowing politely before making a swift exit. You could feel the weight of curious eyes on your back, but no one suspected a thing.

Joining the South Korea Hunter Association was easy after that. You chose not to align yourself with any guild, instead opting to work freelance. It allowed you the freedom to pick your own missions and, more importantly, to avoid too much scrutiny. The Association didn’t question it, relieved to have another willing hunter, especially one with healing skills.

After a few raids, you gradually established a rhythm, selling a select number of drops at the hunters' markets. You kept the powerful materials for yourself, knowing the enchanted items might raise suspicions. The influx of funds was just what you needed.

----

The money you earned was enough to set up a modest business, a modest storefront on the quieter side of town, far from the bustling commercial districts. It was a charming space with large windows that let in ample sunlight. Perfect for what you had in mind.

A flower shop.

It was a simple concept—a quaint little greenhouse-inspired shop, cozy and serene, with butterflies fluttering gently around the blooms. Your years of cultivating exotic flowers to look like their normal counterparts in the Hanging Gardens paid off. Your magical influence made the flowers not only bloom faster but also granted them subtle enhancements, flowers that brought calm or clarity, leaves that eased headaches, petals that had slight rejuvenating properties, and much more.

The enchantments were soft, just enough to go unnoticed by hunters who occasionally stopped by, curious about the whispers of a shop with “enchanted” flowers. To manage the flow of clients, you eventually made the shop private, requiring customers to book appointments. Word of mouth spread quickly, though, and you found yourself busier than you’d anticipated.

One afternoon, as you were tending to a particularly finicky flower that required a touch of magic to bloom, a young girl entered the shop, holding her mother’s hand. Their wide eyes taking in the quiet, verdant space with wonder. The mother glanced at the butterflies resting on flower petals and the leaves that shimmered in soft hues.

“Mom, look! The flowers are glowing!” she exclaimed, eyes wide with childish excitement.

Her mother smiled and turned to you. “Hello,” she said with a nervous smile. “This place is… magical.”

You returned her smile, pleased with her reaction. “I’m glad you think so. What can I help you with today?”

She hesitated, fidgeting with the strap of her bag. “I… I heard about your flowers and, well… I’ve been feeling exhausted lately. I thought maybe something here might help?”

You nodded and led her over to a section of delicate white blooms. “These are calming flowers,” you explained. “You can put them by your bed, and they’ll help ease your mind while you sleep. Their scent is soothing and works wonders for stress.”

Her face lit up as she reached out, fingertips brushing the soft petals. “They’re perfect. I never thought flowers could… do that.”

“They’re a little special,” you said with a soft chuckle. “But sometimes, a touch of nature is all we need.”

“And this is for you little one.” You make a grand gesture, like a magician, and a pink carnation bloom in your hands. The girl eyes sparkled, and you took the chance to slip the flower behind her ear.

She and her mother left with a small bundle, the flowers carefully wrapped, and you watched them go, a sense of satisfaction warming you. You were making a life here, slowly but surely, even if there was still a shadow of loneliness lingering at the edges.

Over time, your shop became something of an oasis. People came not just for the flowers, but for the atmosphere, the butterflies drifting lazily through the air, the subtle scent of earth and blossoms mingling together. You overheard customers remark on how they felt better after just a few minutes in the space, how even just watching the butterflies was calming.

“Ah, it’s so peaceful in here,” A couple walked in one day, the man sighed as his partner looked around. His eyes widened as a butterfly landed on her hand, its tiny wings shimmering like fragments of stained glass. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“This place... it’s like stepping into another world.”

If only they knew.

You smiled warmly, handing him a bouquet wrapped in elegant paper. “They’re drawn to the scent of the flowers,” you explained. “It’s said that they bring good luck.”

One regular visitor was an elderly woman who came once a week to buy flowers for her husband’s grave. She’d chat with you while you wrapped her order, sharing stories of her late husband and their time together. She once remarked, “There’s something… kind about you, dear. It’s like you have a healing presence.”

You only nodded, humbled and slightly unnerved by her words. You didn’t feel like you deserved the praise—after all, you were only borrowing this life, this identity. But every time she left with her bouquet, she’d smile back, and you’d return it with a quiet, grateful nod.

And so, you continued on, living a borrowed life.

End Note:

Unedited Draft of [010/10/2024] - Welcome

[seitmai]

As always, many thoughts

“Mama be mad?” His brows furrow as he starts bouncing around even more. Andy knows he has moments before Suede has an accident and gets upset for doing so.

🥺🥺🥺

“Hands, Suede,” Andy’s voice is soft, but demanding. It’s not a question, it’s what Suede has to do. “Ugh,” groaning, he gets on the stool, grunting as he reaches for the soap.

Kids and washing hands, either they love it and do it excessively or only when you remind them 😅

“Pies,” pineapples. Close enough. “NaNa, my ove oo,” he lays his head on Andy’s chest, snuggling in a bit tighter. He always tells fibs about being sleepy. Sleepy Suede, is more cuddly loving Suede. “I love you, too, buddy. You ready to watch some Bluey?”

🥹🥰🥹🥰

This is the sight you’ve always wanted to see; a sticky-faced little boy snuggled up against his dad’s chest, while both of them are passed out. The comfort that Suede feels with Andy matches the way he feels about you. You have no fears when he’s with Andy.

What a sight 🥹🥰

He makes your ovaries ache. Seeing how good he is with children that aren’t his, you know this man deserves someone of his blood. You don’t know how, but you’ll make it happen.

Understandable

You didn’t want to travel for Christmas, but Andy had the time off for Thanksgivng. You had the time off. You missed your family, and wanted them to see Andy with your babies. Let them see how much the kids have grown, and also a grownup Andy. Your mom obsessively talked about him. Even told you on your wedding day you should try and find Andy again because you were making a mistake. Mom’s always know best. And your mom definitely knew.

Mom was/is definitely not a Scott fan 😅

“I called Andy daddy,” she sighs, and finally looks up at you. You meet her with a smile on your face. You and Andy hadn’t found the time or the way to bring up that comment. “It was at donuts for dad, and I just think I got confused. My head was all mushy, and I didn’t mean it. But I liked having him there, and showing my room. You’re the only one that’s seen it.”

She is worrying so much 🥺

Her face falls to sadness, and you lay down the knife. Walking around the counter island to hug her, “Sweet girl, Andy and I aren’t mad.” “But what about my daddy? Are you going to tell him?” You weren’t. But eventually if Audrey kept feeling comfortable with Andy, and letting that title slip, he would know.

Poor thing is so stressed out about it 🥺

“What about daddy?” She pouts. No matter what, this little girl adores her dad, and she’s already over concerned about Scott’s opinion. “Won’t he be mad?” “We don’t have to tell daddy if you don’t want to. Daddy never has to know. I don’t want you to stress about this. You’re four, almost five,” Scott is going to keep on and turn your precious child into a neurotic clam.

💔💔💔

A finger taps on her chin, humming so sweetly while she thinks. “Can we go to the aquarium, and soft play, and then pizza, and then go to a movie?” “I think that sounds like a magical day. Who do you want to go?” “Our family,” you want to squeeze her so tight. Her sweetness comes out of her, and you need to preserve these little moments. “You, and me, and Suedey, and Andy,” you nod your head.

A magical and fun day with the family 🥰

“Audrey, you are the cutest, most sweetest little girl I’ve ever met, you know that?” “Yes, I do,” she gives you a little giggle, returning to her PlayDoh.

Maybe if my boyfriend didn’t walk around the damn house with his dick swinging around,” he grimaces at the word boyfriend and the way you emphasized it. “Get hard!” “Make me,” you’re a bit irritated at him, but not enough to refuse making him hard. You sink to your knees, and take his hardening cock into your hand. You kiss over his member. Looking up at him with the sweetest face that you can muster. You’re not sweet. You’re a goddamn whore for Andy Barber.

🤭🤭🤭

“You just said you were horny, so I’m going to fuck you, and then we can talk about everything else like adults.”

Sounds like a great plan to me 🤷🏻‍♀️

“No. No, they weren’t. Your favorite ones are those pink ones. They cover your full ass, and there’s something about the way they just don’t move on your body, so you’re not tugging them around all day,” you really gawk at him. He’s right. “And when we sleep, your ass cheeks hang out just the tiniest bit and I want to bite each one. So not only are they comfortable on you, they look amazing on, or on the floor.”

I'm blushing just reading this

“Everything!” He stalls his movements, before leaning over you. His hands in a fist to hold his weight off you just enough. But you want to feel him on you. You want to feel that slight pressure and weight, and know that he’s there, “Everything. I don’t know how to explain it, and I don’t know how to talk about it. I spent so many years sucking up my problems because I didn’t have a real job, and he did. You don’t want to hear about my problems because you’re busier than me.” “I do,” you shake your head no, but Andy grips onto your chin tightly. His hips slowly push and pull him out of your warmth. You really are a damn teenager. Can’t have an adult conversation without needing your boyfriend-fiancé’s cock inside of you, and all you can do is cry and shake your head. “Doe, I want to hear everything. We are partners. When you don’t feel well, I don't feel well. I want you to be happy because that makes my days better.”

🥰🥰🥰

“I did. That’s what I want. I want to kiss away all your tears, and I want us to be okay. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” tears steadily flow down your face, and he keeps kissing over your cheeks, and it doesn’t help. Except those tears stop hurting so much. You’re now crying because you’re so happy with the right partner. “Honey, I love you.”

He's so dreamy 😍

“She’s terrified of clowns, and characters in costumes,” she likes her characters 2D. “She’s not over that yet?” “Are you over your fear of sharks?” Scott huffs.

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

You lift up on your elbows, throwing all caution to the wind when you grab Andy’s ass, and pull him deeper into you. You wink at your fiance. “Do you think he doesn’t know the disdain that you have for him? How you won’t even spend the goddamn time to help him pee in the potty while he’s there? Do you think Audrey doesn’t tell me about the giggling you and Taylor did when he cried because he had an accident that smelled. Shit stinks, you asshole. Even your precious Taylor’s. So either you have a party that Suede can fully be a part of, or don’t bother throwing a party that she doesn’t even want anyways.”

Let it all out 👏🏻

“And then my postpartum depression cramped your sex life. And then our son became the number one man in my life. And then our son was sick all the time. You never even tried to connect with him. You never even noticed that I was drowning. All you cared about was getting your dick wet. So my advice to you is to make sure you don’t knock Taylor up, because you can’t handle anything with a penis being put above you. Is that all?”

I definitely know where Audrey gets her sass from 🤭👏🏻

The only thing you want is to know that your babies are safe, and in a loving environment. And if he can’t provide that for them, he might as well just give up trying to fight for them. He only fights for them because it hurts you. But his fight is becoming stale. The only thing he’s holding onto is his pride. Knowing that Audrey could be his legacy, and never thinking that his son could. He wants you to hurt. He wants to shove something in Andy’s face. And all at the expense of his children.

He is a true asshole

One of these days, he’ll give up on the fight. And when he does, you know that Andy won’t hesitate to pick up those pieces, and be willing to adopt both children, and legally become their father. It’s in knowing a man. It’s knowing that even when you’re acting ridiculous in an argument, that Andy isn’t going to stop. That he’s not going to make some snarky comment that kills your self worth.

Oh he will and he will give 120% and do it all with the biggest smile

“Woman, being called daddy by you is not my thing. I know you’re doing it to make me cringe. But I just had the best sex of my life, and pissed off a little wanna be man in the process. Let me revel in that fact, and also the fact that your cunt is so full of me that your eyes are swimming,” you shake your head no. His hand is still covering you, but he knows you're smiling.

🤭🤭🤭

He could tell you about all the things that are different about you, but he’ll save it. He won’t be able to save it for too much longer. You’re just being too silly and stressed to realize.

I have a feeling what this could mean and I had it at some other parts especially in this chapter too, so let's see 🤔

Two Good Reasons, Part 8

Summary: something is happening

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, playful degradation, mentions of divorce, mentions of neglect, unprotected sex, slight voyeurism, Scott, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.7K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“NaNa?” Suede looks up from the toys he’s playing with pointing down the hallway to your bedroom. Desperately trying to get Andy to wake you up, “Mama and Dee seep?”

“Yes, buddy,” Suede huffs a bit. Crossing his arms over his chest before his mouth flattens out, and he returns to his playing. Andy watches him a moment before looking back at the game on tv. Suede looks back down the hallway before pouting up at Andy, “Suedey, what’s wrong?”

“Me pee,” he says, rocking his body back and forward.

“In your diaper?” He shakes his head no, looking towards the bathroom, and he jumps up. His feet bounce around a bit before he jumps, holding himself. “Okay. Come on,” Andy stands up, and walks quickly towards Suede, “Let’s go, buddy.”

“Mama be mad?” His brows furrow as he starts bouncing around even more. Andy knows he has moments before Suede has an accident and gets upset for doing so.

“Your mama won’t be mad. Come on,” Suede holds himself as he runs towards the bathroom, and makes it to his potty just in time. He gives Andy a thumbs up, smiling so proudly at him. “You made it! Does that feel better than a diaper?”

“Chess! Me yike it. NaNa pee der?” Suede points at the bigger toilet, and Andy nods his head, “Me, too?”

“One day. And you’ll get to stand.”

“No,” Andy nods his head yes. “No, no.”

“Has your dad never,” he stops his question when Suede scrunches his nose up. Andy approaches the boy carefully. A child with so very little vocabulary, and still so young, but clearly Scott hadn’t been teaching him anything about pottying.

“Tay.”

“Taylor?” Suede nods his head, and Andy wonders what his limited words are trying to tell him. He’s noticed that you don’t ever press your children about time at their dad’s, so he doesn’t want to either. But he wonders if Taylor is the one that deals with bathroom or diaper duty, “You done?”

“Chess! My mama at?”

“She and Audrey are taking a nap,” Suede dramatically rolls his eyes at Andy, and pulls up his pants. “Audrey has a bit of a cold, and your mama is tired.”

“Ways seep!” He rolls his eyes again, starting to stomp out of the bathroom.

“Hands, Suede,” Andy’s voice is soft, but demanding. It’s not a question, it’s what Suede has to do.

“Ugh,” groaning, he gets on the stool, grunting as he reaches for the soap.

“I know mama has been needing some extra sleep lately, but it happens to everyone,” Suede shakes his head no, starting to play more in the water than washing his hands. “Yes, they do. Your mom works hard, she loves you and sissy harder, and…”

“Ove oo.”

“Yes, she loves me, too. Are you finished?” Suede giggles as Andy picks him up to use the towel. He swings him around until he’s sitting on his hip, and he peeks into the bedroom, and you’ve still got Audrey tight against your body. Your nose buries into her watermelon scented hair, and she clings just as tightly to you.

Suede gets one look at you and growls, “Now, you’ve got to share time with your mom. You could have taken a nap, too, and you said no. You want to nap?”

“No,” shaking his head no, he points at Andy’s chest. Sputtering out words before sighing. Once Andy gets into the living room, he points at the tv.

“You want to watch the game or Bluey?”

“Oo Oo,” that settled that. He yawns, and Andy chooses to ignore it, if you bring up nap to Suede, he’ll refuse it just to spite you. Still holding him he walks into the kitchen. Grabbing himself a beer, and a cup of watered down juice for Suede. “Nack, pease,” his speaking has immensely improved. Suede has slowly been able to put words into sentences.

“A snack. Hmm. What about your fruit salad? No strawberries, and no..?”

“Pies,” pineapples. Close enough. “NaNa, my ove oo,” he lays his head on Andy’s chest, snuggling in a bit tighter. He always tells fibs about being sleepy. Sleepy Suede, is more cuddly loving Suede.

“I love you, too, buddy. You ready to watch some Bluey?”

“Chess!” But his ’yes’ is just a little bit softer, and he never lifts his head off Andy’s chest.

—

You yawn, looking down at your daughter who rubs the sleep out of her eyes. Audrey looks up at you, giving you a sleepy smile, “Did you sleep as hard as mommy?”

“Uh huh,” she sits up in the bed, stretching big. “I like this new bed. Can we see what Andy and Suedey are doing,” she jumps out of the bed immediately, but waits for you to stretch, too. Going behind her, you scoop her up in your arms to blow raspberries all over her, but stop when you walk into the living room.

This is the sight you’ve always wanted to see; a sticky-faced little boy snuggled up against his dad’s chest, while both of them are passed out. The comfort that Suede feels with Andy matches the way he feels about you. You have no fears when he’s with Andy. You know that Andy has his allergies memorized, but also checks the list that’s on the fridge constantly.

He wanted to watch some football, but opted for Bluey so Suede could fall asleep. He agreed to stay up a bit longer with Suede, spend some one on one time with him, while you and Audrey were already piled up and snuggled. Sunday naps are your favorite for a reason.

“They’re sleeping,” Audrey looks at you with a big smile. You know she enjoys seeing Suede being happy and more content here. She shouldn’t have to worry about her brother, but she does. The best big sister you could have asked for. “Suedey likes Andy a whole whole lot.”

“So does Audrey, huh?” She giggles, nodding her head. “How about mommy and Audrey get a snack, and you can play at the table while mommy makes dinner?” She nods again, while you look back at Andy and Suede. He makes your ovaries ache. Seeing how good he is with children that aren’t his, you know this man deserves someone of his blood. You don’t know how, but you’ll make it happen.

You honestly can’t even wait to spend all these holidays with Andy and the kids. Biting on your lip, you glance at the family calendar, knowing it’s past time to ask Scott if you can go back to Michigan with the kids to spend time with your family for Thanksgiving. It was your weekend to have them. Scott hadn’t told you about plans with Taylor’s family, or if he was even interested in seeing them on the holiday.

You didn’t want to travel for Christmas, but Andy had the time off for Thanksgivng. You had the time off. You missed your family, and wanted them to see Andy with your babies. Let them see how much the kids have grown, and also a grownup Andy. Your mom obsessively talked about him. Even told you on your wedding day you should try and find Andy again because you were making a mistake. Mom’s always know best. And your mom definitely knew.

“Mommy?” You look up from slicing the vegetables for a roast, letting Audrey know she has your attention, “I think I messed up.”

“Why’s that?” She bites on her lip, looking more like you every day, even with her mannerisms. Audrey looks down at the PlayDoh she’d been kneading, and looks down the hallway towards the living room. “Audi? Is everything okay?”

“I called Andy daddy,” she sighs, and finally looks up at you. You meet her with a smile on your face. You and Andy hadn’t found the time or the way to bring up that comment. “It was at donuts for dad, and I just think I got confused. My head was all mushy, and I didn’t mean it. But I liked having him there, and showing my room. You’re the only one that’s seen it.”

Her face falls to sadness, and you lay down the knife. Walking around the counter island to hug her, “Sweet girl, Andy and I aren’t mad.”

“But what about my daddy? Are you going to tell him?” You weren’t. But eventually if Audrey kept feeling comfortable with Andy, and letting that title slip, he would know.

“Do you want me to?” She shakes her swiftly, and buries herself into your chest. “No. But I also think you should call Andy whatever feels natural. You naturally called him that because at that moment that’s what he felt like to you. Baby, Andy adores and loves you, and doesn't not care what you call him. Unless it’s something like poppy head,” Audrey giggles, finally lifting up from your body.

“What about daddy?” She pouts. No matter what, this little girl adores her dad, and she’s already over concerned about Scott’s opinion. “Won’t he be mad?”

“We don’t have to tell daddy if you don’t want to. Daddy never has to know. I don’t want you to stress about this. You’re four, almost five,” Scott is going to keep on and turn your precious child into a neurotic clam.

Her little fingers pet over your shirt, looking like she’s up to something. Her sly smile is so cute that you just want to give her a hard kiss on her cheek. “Can we go to Paris for my birthday?”

“No,” you answer quickly. Traveling out of the country with ‘Scott’s children’ would be out of the question. Going to Paris before her birthday would be even more so with planning alone. “Pick somewhere else to go.”

“Nini and Poppy’s?”

“That’s what I’m hoping to do for Thanksgiving. What about something around here?”

A finger taps on her chin, humming so sweetly while she thinks. “Can we go to the aquarium, and soft play, and then pizza, and then go to a movie?”

“I think that sounds like a magical day. Who do you want to go?”

“Our family,” you want to squeeze her so tight. Her sweetness comes out of her, and you need to preserve these little moments. “You, and me, and Suedey, and Andy,” you nod your head. Pressing a kiss to her forehead before placing her back in her seat. She’s making you oddly over emotional, and it feels so confusing and overwhelming, and you love it.

“Audrey, you are the cutest, most sweetest little girl I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“Yes, I do,” she gives you a little giggle, returning to her PlayDoh. You happen to glance at it a moment. “Is this what the judge’s bench looks like,” you finally understand Andy’s frustration with this.

“Audi, why don’t you make a cupcake instead.”

“No, I gotta learn.”

Waking up without the kids feels so awful. Yes, you have your wonderful boyfriend-fiance, and you refuse to call him fiance until he gives you a ring. And while waking up without them at home with you is better with Andy, due to the distraction, but it still sucked. The only good thing is having Andy prance around nearly naked.

He loves to keep the doors locked, the blinds closed, and walk around with his cock out all day. It’s like he’s teasing you. And you have no problem partaking. He really likes it when you’re naked or at least topless. Especially topless cooking, like now.

You’re being cheeky teenagers again, except without so many restrictions. Standing over the pot of soup, you giggle as Andy comes up behind you with his hands on your tits. He looks over your shoulders softly petting around your nipple. His smile is infectious as he pebbles the sensitive skin. “You’re so,” a lewd moan ripples through your throat, and you back your ass into his cock.

“Fuck me.”

“Sensitive,” Andy gives your nipples a hard pinch, and twirls you around to look at him, and you immediately cup his cock, and he meets your energy, except he shoves two fingers into your warmth, and you whimper, “You’re fucking soaked,” he’s shocked at how ready you are for him.

“I’m fucking horny,” you whine, grinding over his fingers like a bitch in heat. You’re so needy for him right now.

“Yeah, no shit, Doe. You are leaking out, and making a mess on your thighs. What has got you worked up?” His voice is laced with so much hunger for you. My god, this man and that cock you can have whenever you want. And you want immediately. “You’re so fucking messy.”

You can’t stop it. There’s something about his voice that sounds accusatory. And you’re fucking horny. You want to have sex, you don’t want to have a lecture. The soup is simmering and not ready. The kids aren’t here. And you want to be fucked so hard you fall asleep again.

“Maybe if my boyfriend didn’t walk around the damn house with his dick swinging around,” he grimaces at the word boyfriend and the way you emphasized it. “Get hard!”

“Make me,” you’re a bit irritated at him, but not enough to refuse making him hard. You sink to your knees, and take his hardening cock into your hand. You kiss over his member. Looking up at him with the sweetest face that you can muster. You’re not sweet. You’re a goddamn whore for Andy Barber.

“You are a horny little slut, hmm?” Shimmying your shoulders, you nod your head with a smile. Sucking his cock into your mouth so you can suck and use your tongue to massage him. Moaning as he turns to steel in your mouth. “Fuck. You seriously are a master with your mouth. My fiance looks amazing just like this. Taking my cock just like she was made to do.”

What? You pull off his cock slowly, and stare up at him scowling, “What?” He asks, mouth hanging open looking at you.

“Seriously?”

He furrows his brows, and you lose patience. Leaning back on your heels, he asks that stupid question again, “What, Doe?” You don’t say anything, just move to stand. “No. You stay and talk to me. What is your deal?”

Your deal? He grabs your arm, but you shrug him off, and march away from him. “Doe!” You keep walking away from him, but he doesn’t let up. Using your real name, and it hurts for some reason. The vitriol reaction you have to hearing him say a name that everyone calls you. Doe is special to him. His little deer.

“Do not call me that, Andy Barber!”

“I seriously have no idea what is going on right now,” of course he wouldn’t. Because he didn’t understand anything. And currently neither do you.

“Ugh!” Spinning back on your heels, you walk away. Again. Heading towards the bedroom. The two of you look utterly ridiculous; you wearing nothing but cheeky panties, and him completely nude with a hard on. Serves him right. Maybe he can have blue balls because the free show is over now. He needs to gravel, and plead.

“I sound stupid!” You scream at yourself, and you fall onto the bed like a petulant child. You sound like a toddler, and still you can’t stop the weird feeling. It’s not anger as much as it’s complete frustration. You can’t make it stop. You want to be fucked. You want Andy to propose like he said he would. You want to move and live in a house that doesn’t have Scott’s name on it. You want your children to quit leaving you every other weekend.

You want Scott to quit throwing lame excuses over your head trying to scare and threaten you. You want him to stop fighting for full custody. You don’t want him to even have joint custody. You want your babies. And you want them with you and Andy.

“Baby,” Andy coos on your back. He peppers kisses all over your back, and you cry more. You’re trying to be mad at him! “Honey, tell me what’s wrong?”

“I hate him,” he doesn’t have to see your face to know your crying. Your trembling body tells him.

“That’s not what set this off. Tell me what made you angry at first,” was it not Scott? Or is everything just rushing at you at once?

“You’re a liar,” you sound like a child. Audrey doesn’t whine as much as you are.

“I am not.”

“You said you were going to propose for real, and you haven’t,” make it stop. Go back to blaming Scott. You sound like an entitled asshole. Andy said he had a ring, and he said he was going to propose, and he will.

“I called you my fiance,” his voice is so soft, and understanding, but it kind of ticks you off again, and you try to resist. You don’t want to make things worse.

“And I hate it here. I hate that he takes our babies away every other weekend, and I only get to see their faces a little bit. Or when Suede tries to text from his ‘mini’ iPad, and it’s just emojis. And I love that you help him potty. And I’m so horny,” Andy chuckles on your back. He uses his feet to push legs apart.

His thick fingers start teasing through your weeping cunt, and another alarm goes off, “You’re trying to change the subject.”

“You just said you were horny, so I’m going to fuck you, and then we can talk about everything else like adults.”

“You fuck me from behind to much,” he growls. Actually growls on your body. “Andy!” His hands grip you tight before flipping you over on your back, and stepping in between your legs. He moves aside your panties, and you know how stupid it sounds inside your head, but you can’t stop it. “Are you seriously trying to fuck me like some bitch you met at the club without taking her panties off?”

He gives you the most angry grin you’ve ever seen. Tight lipped and irritated when he rips the damn things off, “Those were my favorite panties.”

“No, they weren’t,” you gawk at him. “No. No, they weren’t. Your favorite ones are those pink ones. They cover your full ass, and there’s something about the way they just don’t move on your body, so you’re not tugging them around all day,” you really gawk at him. He’s right. “And when we sleep, your ass cheeks hang out just the tiniest bit and I want to bite each one. So not only are they comfortable on you, they look amazing on, or on the floor.”

Andy crashes into your whiny ass warmth, and your back lifts off the bed. “Now, I don’t know what set you off, or why you’re being so unreasonable but I want to talk about it.”

“I want you to fuck me!” He pulls himself all the way out before slamming into so hard. “Fuck me!”

“I am!” He does it again. And again until your eyes start to crash. “I am your partner, and I want to listen to what’s bothering you.”

“Everything!” He stalls his movements, before leaning over you. His hands in a fist to hold his weight off you just enough. But you want to feel him on you. You want to feel that slight pressure and weight, and know that he’s there, “Everything. I don’t know how to explain it, and I don’t know how to talk about it. I spent so many years sucking up my problems because I didn’t have a real job, and he did. You don’t want to hear about my problems because you’re busier than me.”

“I do,” you shake your head no, but Andy grips onto your chin tightly. His hips slowly push and pull him out of your warmth. You really are a damn teenager. Can’t have an adult conversation without needing your boyfriend-fiancé’s cock inside of you, and all you can do is cry and shake your head. “Doe, I want to hear everything. We are partners. When you don’t feel well, I don't feel well. I want you to be happy because that makes my days better.”

“I don’t want him to have our babies,” you said it again without any hesitation. You want Andy to have your children. You would ask him to adopt them today if you knew it was possible.

He nods his head. His rhythm is still so steady, “The custody hearing is getting closer,” it isn’t a question, but you nod your head. He knows that’s part of what’s bothering you, “Honey, I’m not going to let anyone take the kids from us.”

“You can’t promise that,” Andy leans forward, and kisses each cheek, pulling back you notice the shine on his lips. “Did you just kiss my tears away?”

“I did. That’s what I want. I want to kiss away all your tears, and I want us to be okay. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” tears steadily flow down your face, and he keeps kissing over your cheeks, and it doesn’t help. Except those tears stop hurting so much. You’re now crying because you’re so happy with the right partner. “Honey, I love you.”

“I love you,” your words bubble over. He’s so perfect, and you’re just not. You’re not a superhuman, you’re not the thinnest, the most beautiful, the smartest, but you know you’re a damn good mom, and you were a good wife to an asshole. But you could be the best wife to Andy. “I want to marry you.”

“You’ve got to get divorced first,” you snort. Finally sounding happier than sadder. He smiles, kissing you gently. “I’ll marry you the day after if that’s what you want.”

“It was always you,” you may sound silly. You two may argue over the stupidest things. But it was always him. “I’m sorry that I’m a child sometimes.”

“You’re normally not,” he bites his lip as he pounds into you quickly. “Now, hold — fucking hell!” He yells, slamming his hand on your phone. “You’re answering it.”

“You are fucking me,” giggling, you read his name, and know why Andy wants you to answer.

“And I’ll keep fucking you. So you better listen to little Scottie the first time,” whimpering, you shake your head no.

“Just finish quickly.”

“I don’t want to, I want to take my time. Answer it.”

Groaning, you click on the phone, “Hey,” Andy is an asshole. He keeps a slow rhythm into your body. “What are you needing?”

“Why do you sound sniffly?”

“My allergies have been irritating me lately,” you can feel his eyes roll, “What’s up?”

“Taylor is wanting to throw Audrey a party,” he blurts out. You don’t hate Taylor. But you don’t think Taylor is capable of throwing Audrey a birthday party either. Plus, she’s got the celebration one in her classroom, and doesn’t love large crowds. “She wants to give her a party at an event center with clowns.”

“She’s terrified of clowns, and characters in costumes,” she likes her characters 2D.

“She’s not over that yet?”

“Are you over your fear of sharks?” Scott huffs. “I’m listening. What else?” Andy pistons into your body so hard that you have to slap your hand over your mouth to keep a sound of deep satisfaction from escaping. “Jerk!”

“Just have Taylor’s family,” why? “And a few kids from her classroom,” a few can range to a large number. “She wants a caterer.”

“For a five year old?” You already see what Taylor is doing. She wants her family there, so she can show off how much her boyfriend can spend on silly little things like a birthday party.

“Not everybody wants to make everything by hand like you, Ms. Perfect,” you know Andy is aware of everything that Scott is saying. It’s why he grits his teeth as he pounds into your body balls deep, and lets the tip of his cock settle against your cervix sweetly. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” just having the best sex with the deepest penetration.

“You’re panting.”

“I just got off the treadmill,” just getting fucked.

“Honey, it’s not baby weight anymore, Suede is two,” another harsh move into you, and Andy’s face starts to turn red. Angry with Scott’s unnecessary harsh words.

“She wants to go to Paris.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not paying for that shit.”

You roll your eyes. Scott seriously didn’t understand, nor were you asking him to pay for anything. “She’s obsessed with Madeline. Why not do a Parisian theme. But for fuck’s sake, can the two of you make sure that Suede can have everything there? You know how kids are.”

“You could keep him that day.”

Andy bites your neck slightly too hard, “Ow.”

“What?” Andy growls on your skin. “Oh god, did I upset Andrew?” No, he’s pissing you off.

“You upset me. Either Suede goes, or you don’t need to throw a party for Audrey,” he starts to say something, but you speak louder, “That’s his sister, and you know the special bond that they have. Either you include Suede in the festivities, or you don’t do it. Audrey will want to talk about it, and it won’t be fair to our son.”

“He’s fucking two years old, he won’t remember it.”

You lift up on your elbows, throwing all caution to the wind when you grab Andy’s ass, and pull him deeper into you. You wink at your fiance. “Do you think he doesn’t know the disdain that you have for him? How you won’t even spend the goddamn time to help him pee in the potty while he’s there? Do you think Audrey doesn’t tell me about the giggling you and Taylor did when he cried because he had an accident that smelled. Shit stinks, you asshole. Even your precious Taylor’s. So either you have a party that Suede can fully be a part of, or don’t bother throwing a party that she doesn’t even want anyways.”

Andy moans, and Scott whispers an expletive. You hope that Scott knows that you’re getting ground into with the biggest cock right now. Andy pushes into you faster. Harder. “Is there a problem, Scott?”

“You can be a bitch sometimes. Just didn’t realize it until after we split.”

“And you can be an asshole sometimes. I always knew it, but I overlooked it for some reason. And if I ever hear about you and Taylor making a comment about Suede’s shitty diaper again…” Andy pushes into you so hard, your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can’t make threats. “He’s a baby, and we are teaching him to potty train. If you don’t want to change diapers, do the same at your house.”

“He’s with you more.”

“Consistency is the key. Is that all?” His side is silent, minus the heavy breathing. You can hear his finger tapping on something. His annoying fucking habit when he gets angry. Fucking asshole. He’s a little bitch. Having to make a two year old feel bad for an accident in his diaper to make him feel superior.

“Audrey shouldn’t — are you,” he pauses. You’ve stunned him into silence, and he doesn’t even know what to say, “What do you want?”

“I want you to treat both our children the same. I want you to treat Suede like he’s your son, and that you love him. I want you to be just as proud of him as you are of Audrey. I want you to stop pushing the responsibilities of our children onto Taylor. I want my son to come home happy. I don’t want him to see me, and not want to let go of me for a few hours. Mmm,” Andy really is an asshole for pushing into you so deep that you can’t stop the sound of bliss.

Scott knows. He knows that Andy is giving it to you so good, and when you get off the phone that Andy is going to fuck you like a slut. “Andy told you to write,” he sighs. Yes, Andy and you have been writing down every indiscretion to your children that he does, “I just can’t connect with him.”

“What are you saying?” Your fingers dig into Andy’s ass. You're angry. You’re pissed. You’re ready to kill your ex.

“I don’t,” he’s choosing his words carefully. You wish he would just rip the bandaid off. “He’s not an easy child. Audrey is. I had bonding time with her. And then…”

“And then my postpartum depression cramped your sex life. And then our son became the number one man in my life. And then our son was sick all the time. You never even tried to connect with him. You never even noticed that I was drowning. All you cared about was getting your dick wet. So my advice to you is to make sure you don’t knock Taylor up, because you can’t handle anything with a penis being put above you. Is that all?”

“Fuck you. You are so self righteous. You act like you’re the perfect fucking parent, and nobody is ever going to compare to you. I hope Andy enjoys trying to please someone who is impossible to please,” you moan again. Having to bite on Andy’s arm. “You fucking slut. How dare you fuck that asshole while you’re talking to me!”

“My fucking slut,” Andy grunts before reaching to your phone, and ending the call. “After this court hearing, and when it’s determined about the kids,” he stops himself. His thrusts are angry. “Do you realize I want to,” you cover his mouth with your hand, shaking your head.

“Do not say that. I just want our,” you smile at him, letting him know that it’s not an accident when you say our, “babies. Oh god,” he ruts into you, and your body becomes soft for him. Pliable to his every move, and you stare at the man that didn’t even have to try, and he reached your ‘impossible’ standards. Scott is wrong. And you’re never going to allow him to hurt your self esteem ever again.

The only thing you want is to know that your babies are safe, and in a loving environment. And if he can’t provide that for them, he might as well just give up trying to fight for them. He only fights for them because it hurts you. But his fight is becoming stale. The only thing he’s holding onto is his pride. Knowing that Audrey could be his legacy, and never thinking that his son could. He wants you to hurt. He wants to shove something in Andy’s face. And all at the expense of his children.

One of these days, he’ll give up on the fight. And when he does, you know that Andy won’t hesitate to pick up those pieces, and be willing to adopt both children, and legally become their father. It’s in knowing a man. It’s knowing that even when you’re acting ridiculous in an argument, that Andy isn’t going to stop. That he’s not going to make some snarky comment that kills your self worth.

He crashes his lips into yours, and the two of you pant. Breathing in each other’s air. Entangling your bodies together in the most beautiful sin. One of these days you won’t have to worry about these conversations. You won’t have to worry about the bane of your existence. You’ll be able to sleep every other weekend because you know that your children are in a safe home.

He presses his forehead against yours while he drives his cock into you so hard. Fusing his body with yours. You can’t look away from his beautiful eyes. Can’t think of anything more besides the fact that Andy is the most beautiful human. Andy is the epitome of a perfect man. Not just in looks, even though he really is the best. But the fact that he isn’t toxic, and he’s all man.

His eyes darken, and his body tightens, “I’m there, Andy.”

“I know, honey,” his salacious moan has your body setting on fire. He’s so vocal during sex that you never have to worry if it truly feels good for him, or if you’re just ‘doing your wifely duties’. “I feel your walls pulsing around me. Squeezing me so tight. Let. Go,” breathing him in, you let every wall fall down as euphoria races through you. Your cunt clenches down around him, and you mewl out his name. Thick. Hot ropes of cum shoot into your pussy, and Andy’s body melts on top of your own.

You just breathe. You soak him all up. Every last drop of him. This will be the one that takes. You know it will be. You furrow your brows as you look up at the ceiling. Counting in your head. Are you even ovulating? Are you…?

“Hey,” he pops up from your chest, smiling, and you forget all the counting. He’s so pretty after sex. “Tomorrow when we go to pick up the kids. There’s somewhere special I want to show you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Andy!”

“Doe!”

“Daddy!” He covers your mouth with his hand.

“Woman, being called daddy by you is not my thing. I know you’re doing it to make me cringe. But I just had the best sex of my life, and pissed off a little wanna be man in the process. Let me revel in that fact, and also the fact that your cunt is so full of me that your eyes are swimming,” you shake your head no. His hand is still covering you, but he knows you're smiling.

“Yeah, you’re swimming in Andy cum and Andy dick.”

“I love swimming in Andy.”

“Andy just loves you,” and with that, he kisses you softly. Savoring the different taste of you after sex. He could tell you about all the things that are different about you, but he’ll save it. He won’t be able to save it for too much longer. You’re just being too silly and stressed to realize.

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[wemlygust]

it's kinda funny (as in, literally amusing, not as in "I am indicating sarcasm or criticism") that importing Danny Phantom into the DC Universe seems to free people to age him up or down all along the age scale. Here in crossover land, we've got baby Danny, we've got toddler Danny, we've got little kid and preteen Danny, we've got teen Danny, we've got adult Danny with a job or in college or both, and we've got immortal super old Danny. I don't think his age varies this much within Phantom-only/non-crossover fic? I wonder if this is true for crossovers generally, or if it's more true for Danny Phantom because a) he's in one way or another immortal and b) his physical form is already unusually changeable, at least as a ghost. And c) there is already canonical time travel. It's almost always Danny's age that changes, not the ages of the various Bats. Danny's age is adjusted by who the author wants to pair him with, or whether they want someone to take care of him or have him take care of someone else or both, or who they want to have be his long-lost twin, or whatever. For those long-lost twin fics, one could hypothetically, like, make Tim younger, instead of Danny older, but it's almost always the latter I think? Which is interesting. I guess if you make Tim younger, that changes his relationship with the other bats, and potentially the canon backstory you'd rather not try to re-jigger. It does make sense to just change the age of the 1 imported character to suit all the other characters whose ages already are interconnected and matter for their relationships with each other. I think I've only ever seen, like, one (1) fic where Danny was actually physically middle aged or over, and even for that one I'm not at all sure. I might be making it up. Alfred is the one (1) person who gets to be old AND look old, I guess. Normal "center the teens and 20 year olds, and maaaybe the 30 year olds on a good day, and everyone older is a side character or not even on the page anywhere, unless they are immortal in a way that makes them look forever young" problem common in fiction in general continues also in fanfiction, alas. You know what, I bet YA is still like that, too? In which case, no wonder there are so many younger folks who act like 30 is Ancient, Falling Apart, Basically Dead At That Point, Oh God Why Am I Not [XYZ arbitrary "success" or "adulthood" goal here]. Let alone 40.