#and she was the love of my life before I even really knew what love was or what the queer experience is like I was just so overcome by love

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Part One

Eddie walked through the door of Robin's bedroom cautiously.

"I don't know why I assumed that you'd be taking me to your house when you said that you're taking me home," Eddie said. "Silly me."

"I did tell you that house was my parents' house," Steve said, following him in.

"So, why aren't we there?" He asked.

"Because the bios are in town," Robin said.

"Bios?" Eddie asked.

"My biological parents," Steve replied.

"Yeah, I was wondering about them. I was starting to think they don't exist," Eddie said.

"They basically don't," Robin said and pointed to a pile of pillows by the window. "Especially in Steve's life."

"That sucks," Eddie said as he plopped onto the pillows with Robin and Steve.

"Their loss. Our gain," Robin grinned.

Melissa Buckley popped her head through the door. Eddie had met her at the door. She was very mellow and sweet. She didn't even give him the stink eye when he walked in. Instead, she hugged him and welcomed him right into her home.

"Oh, does anyone need any snacks?" Melissa asked.

"Oh, no, we're good, Mombie, thank you," Robin said.

"Oh, Steve, your room is still all set up, but I'm afraid Snuffles has been occupying it lately," she replied.

"Thanks, Mombie," Steve said.

"Are you alright with us being in here?" Eddie asked.

"Of course, I am," she laughed.

"Oh, she now knows all about me being a lesbian," Robin said.

"You're -"

"I don't know why she was so worried. She knows we're all about the love," Melissa said. "And the fact that in the early days of our marriages, we branched out with other people."

"You never said it was men and women, mother!" Robin exclaimed, rolling her eyes and smiling.

"Oh, your uncle should know, Eddie," Melissa said. "He was one of my lovers."

"What?!" Eddie shrieked.

"Oh, and he was excellent, too," Melisss sighed. "Really good with his hands - "

"Gah!" Eddie yelped and plugged his ears with his fingers. "Lalalalalala! I'm not listening!"

"You're scarring, Eddie, mombie," Robin said.

"Oh, I'll let you three to it, then," Melissa said and closed the door behind her.

"Okay, what the hell?" Eddie asked. "You know, I was okay with assuming that my uncle was basically a monk."

"How prude of you, Eddie," Robin cooed.

"You're a lesbian?" Eddie asked.

"Hm, I thought you knew," Robin said.

"Nope!" Eddie exclaimed.

"So, you don't know about either one of us?" Steve asked.

"You're a lesbian, too?" Eddie grinned.

"No, bisexual," Steve scoffed.

"Pardon?" He asked.

"I like men and women," Steve said, and then he turned to Robin. "I was pretty sure that he knew."

"Maybe the woman at the bar was wrong about flagging," Robin replied.

"I don't know. She seemed to know what she was talking about," Steve replied. "And I thought for sure that Eddie was flirting with me."

"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Eddie asked. "By the way, I'm cool with it all. . ."

"There's no way. . .no one calls someone "big boy" like that, and they're not flirting," Robin said.

"Maybe it's one of those situations," Steve whispered. "We should probably stop talking about it."

"Oh, hey, since it's your first time here, you get to pick the music," Robin said, pointing to her cassettes.

"Ooh, don't mind if I do," Eddie said and pulled the box closer to him. "Ooh. You got Bob Dylan. My mom was a fan."

"She had great tastes," Robin said and smiled when Eddie popped it in.

"Okay, what next?" Eddie asked.

Steve grinned and moved to his feet. He slowly began to untie Eddie's shoes before moving just as slowly to take them off. He kept the same pace when he took his socks off, keeping eye contact with Eddie.

"Seriously?" Robin sighed.

"What are you guys going to do to me?" Eddie asked, swallowing.

Robin rolled her eyes and pulled out a box.

"Pick a color, dingus," Robin said.

"Oh! You're painting my toenails," Eddie said.

"Well, you said that you wanted to know what we did when it's just the two of us," Robin said.

"Okay, can I do red and black?" Eddie asked.

"Of course," Steve said and began work on Eddie's feet.

"So, you two consider yourself like brother and sister?" Eddie asked as he took a magazine from Robin.

"Oh, no, that would ruin the plan," Robin said.

"We're basically platonic fiancées," Steve said.

"Well, almost fiancées," Robin said. "We're going to slowly manipulate Steve’s dad into giving us money for a wedding. We're going to take the money and give it to a worthy cause. We might just end up getting married for the hell of it, platonically, of course, but it's going to be the cheapest wedding ever. His dad would hate it."

"Mombie was against the plan at first," Steve said.

"And then she met his parents," Robin said. "Both of my parents are on board."

"As well as Claudia and Sue," Steve said.

"They meet up to discuss it, but they mostly just drink sangrias," Robin said. "And talk about. . .well, I don't know what they talk about."

"Jesus, are your parents really that bad?" Eddie asked as he flipped through the magazine.

"Yes," Steve and Robin said.

"Well, if you need any help, I'm your man," Eddie said, flashing his dimples.

"You know what would make your doe eyes pop?" Robin asked. "Eyeliner."

Eddie looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before shrugging.

"Alright."

"Yes!" Robin exclaimed and began to apply it.

"This magazine is really informative. Hey, Steve, do you mind me asking how you knew you were bisexual?" Eddie asked.

Robin had to stop applying the eyeliner because she suddenly started shaking with giggles.

"I don't mind it all - Robin, stop laughing!" Steve yelled and then sighed. "Well, apparently, it's just not very straight to practice kissing and practice having sex with a guy friend."

"Okay, well, I get the sex thing, but practice kissing with friends. . .doesn't everyone do that?" Eddie asked.

"No, and also like it? Also, no," Steve said.

"Oh, well. . ." Eddie said and looked away, thoughtfully, blushing, then he grinned. "Hell, I think I might be like you after all, big boy."

"One of us, one of us, one of us!" Robin and Steve chanted.

"You guys are freaks, I love it," Eddie laughed.

"Oh, Edward, you have no idea," Robin said.

"Should we?" Steve asked.

"Oh, I think we should," Robin said. "Eddie, do you want to be initiated into our coven?"

"Coven?" Eddie asked.

"We're wiccans," Steve grinned.

"Yeah, sure, why the fuck not?" Eddie laughed.

"Ooh! I get to try out my spell!" Robin exclaimed, clapping her hands. "And your potions and runes, Steven!"

The next thing, Eddie knew he was kneeling in the middle of Robin's room, surrounded by candles and very shirtless. Robin and Steve were both wearing black robes. Steve was kneeling in front of Eddie, painting runes on Eddie's chest and arms.

"We're kind of just making this shit up as we go along," Steve told Eddie.

"Obviously, that's clearly a dick you just painted," Eddie said, and Steve giggled.

The door opened, and Robert Buckley entered the room. Robin, Steve, and Eddie stared at him. He stared back. He set a fire extinguisher on Robin's desk.

"I thought I smelled smoke," Robert said. "Have fun."

"Thanks, Daddy," Robin and Steve said.

Just before he closed the door, Snuffles the orange tabby slipped onto the room.

"What's a Wiccan initiation without a cat?" Eddie asked with a grin.

Steve pulled out his potion. He pulled Eddie's hair back into a bun and started dabbing the potion behind his ears and on his throat. It smelled like heaven. He paused and glanced at Eddie's lips. Steve grinned before putting the potion on his own lips. Eddie stared at him in confusion. Steve cupped his face and kissed him, spreading the potion onto Eddie's lips. It also tasted like heaven. Steve tasted like heaven. Eddie let out a noise of disappointment as Steve pulled back.

"Woah! Head rush. Was that you or the potion?" Eddie asked. "What is that stuff?"

"You have to be a higher level to unlock that information," Steve said.

"Damn."

"That was completely unnecessary," Robin said and then grinned. "I can't wait until we're platonically married so I can call Eddie a whore for sleeping with my husband. It's going to be so dramatic."

Steve stood next to Robin as she opened her notebook, and they took each other's hands. Together, they started chanting in Latin. And when it was done, Steve happily wiped off the runes off Eddie's chest before presenting him with a temporary robe with promises of taking him out to pick out his own. In the meantime, Eddie was wearing Steve’s pink bathrobe. The three of them sat on Robin's window sill, hanging their feet outside. Robin and Steve sat on either side of Eddie.

"Do you think there are a lot more people like us out there in Hawkins?" Eddie asked.

"Definitely," Steve and Robin said, looking at him.

Eddie laid his head on Steve’s shoulder and intertwined their fingers. There came a sudden breeze, whipping through their hair. They smiled. They definitely felt magic in the air.

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 16

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 4.5k

Note : Only two chapters after this!! Honestly these last three chapter will be like an extended epilogue. Small flashbacks are indented! Please let me know if I miss anyone on the tags! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

"Take Your Shape"

Rebuilding with Yelena had been almost as difficult as rebuilding with Bucky—but for entirely different reasons. With Bucky, the wounds revolved around love. Despite everything, at least he was familiar— at least he still felt like home. 

With Yelena, the fracture was messier, harder to untangle. She was a friend, sure, but she wasn’t nearly as close to you now as she’d been before the memory loss. Everyone kept insisting you two were like sisters, and it drove you mad—not knowing what that actually felt like.

You’d seen glimpses of it, in the video Happy showed you. You saw the two of you laughing, hanging out at the compound, but it wasn't the same. Watching those moments felt like peering into someone else’s life, someone else’s memories with no idea how you got here.

How had you gotten so close, and yet so… distant?

The pang of betrayal still swirled in your chest; she hadn’t warned you, hadn’t given you the truth when you needed it, even after knowing how much it would shatter you. You had craved human connection in the hospital room— maybe that's why you let her stay. But now, with all that anger simmering beneath the surface, you needed much more time to process this alone, and as it turned out, it took much longer than you had expected.

For the next couple of days, you couldn’t get past the fact that the woman who had allegedly been like a sister to you had chosen to keep you unaware of the mountain of lies your boyfriend had built.

Friday.

The first step came one evening, when she showed up at your apartment unannounced. She was standing there, hands shoved into her pockets. A fire of emotion swirled within you— Sadness. Resentment. Hope. 

But above all, you found yourself missing her.

“Can we talk?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual.

You hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let her in. Back in the hospital, when the truth had first come out, you hadn’t had the energy to argue. But here, in the privacy of your apartment, you did. What followed was a long conversation full of starts and stops, accusations and justifications.

“It wasn’t my decision to make,” Yelena said at one point, frustrated. You couldn’t tell if it was aimed at herself or at the situation.

Her words weren't an instant fix, but they planted a seed. Over the next few days, there were more conversations over training. You didn’t hold back your feelings, and to her credit, Yelena didn’t shut down, she didn’t deflect. She didn’t change the topic like she used to. Slowly, you began to see her choices not as malicious but as a misguided form of love manifesting from someone who had gone through so much. It’s poetic, really— how she was a platonic mirror of Bucky.

In the end, she just held back because she didn’t want to be the reason you were hurt. 

And now, knowing all you knew, you couldn’t hold it against her—just as you couldn’t hold a permanent grudge against Bucky. 

Friday, the next week.

The real turning point came when you introduced her to Alex. It hadn’t been part of any grand plan, just a chance encounter. 

You’d been out for coffee with Alex— catching up after the museum closed— when you spotted Yelena heading toward you on the street. There was a flicker of hesitation—a moment when you weren’t sure whether she’d stop or walk on by. But Alex, ever vigilant, recognised her from the photos you showed her and sensed your tension. So Alex, ever the diplomat, had stepped in with a warm smile, bridging the gap before it could grow too wide.

“Why don’t you join us?” Alex had offered.

Yelena hesitated, glancing at you, “I guess I could spare a minute,” she nodded.

A minute stretched into an hour. 

At first, Yelena sat stiffly, her words overly careful. But Alex had a way of breaking down walls without anyone realizing it was happening. She leaned into Yelena’s stories, genuinely interested. Alex laughed in all the right places, continued to moderate the conversation just when you thought it was ending.

Both you and Yelena began sharing training mishaps, laughing like old times again. In return, Alex shared stories of things that happened in the museum after you left, like the time she accidentally dropped a fossilized dinosaur tooth during a museum tour and had to convince the students it was a fake (she had broken it, of course).

After a while, you found yourself sitting back, sipping your coffee, watching them as though you were an outsider. There was something so gratifying about seeing Yelena, usually so guarded, taking a liking to a civilian friend of yours.

Later, as you and Alex walked back, she turned to face you.

“I can see why you keep Yelena around, after everything,” Alex said, “Though she’s a little... intense.”

“She’s the kind that grows on you,” you replied. For the first time in a while, you felt a sisterly warmth grow in your heart for the Russian.

This must be how it felt like the first time— when you joined the avengers and got close to her.

Alex nudged your shoulder playfully. “I like her.”

Thursday, the next week.

Much to your surprise, Yelena and Alex only grew closer from then on. 

Their friendship seemed effortless, almost as though they’d known each other for years. It reminded you of why you’d been drawn to Yelena in the first place: it was her wit, her stubborn charm that kept you both on edge.

Seeing Alex bring out that side of her so easily felt like watching two puzzle pieces click into place.

The weekly lunches at the diner soon became a ritual. The first time, Yelena had scrutinized the laminated menu with a dramatic sigh before declaring, “This place better not kill me.” Predictably, she’d found something to complain about. “The eggs are overcooked, the toast is cold, and the coffee tastes like dishwater.” She’d said it with such exaggerated disdain (in a thick Russian accent) that even Alex had giggled.

“I think it's charming” Alex had replied, which earned her one of Yelena’s rare, unguarded smiles.

After that, every Thursday, like clockwork, the three of you crammed into the same corner booth, under the same faded mural of a desert highway. Over time, those lunches became a refuge from whatever was going on that week— whether it was a mission gone wrong or some exhibition that needed long hours to set up. These days were always filled with teasing banter, long-winded stories, and the occasional vulnerable heart-to-heart conversation.

Slowly but surely, you could feel the cracks between you and Yelena mending, the tension that had once boiled over dissipating like sea foam. Forgiveness, you realised, wasn’t a singular event, but a collection of moments— of these moments.

Thursday, the next week. 

One Thursday, as the three of you stayed long after the plates had been cleared, Yelena leaned back in her seat, one arm draped over the backrest, suspiciously close to Alex’s shoulders. “You know,” she said, twirling her coffee spoon, “if I’d known Alex was this entertaining, I would’ve stolen her from you a long time ago.”

Alex tilted her head to look at her playfully. “I don’t think you could handle me full-time.”

Yelena raised an eyebrow. “You’re probably right.”

You rolled your eyes, a laugh slipping out.

That day, before going your separate ways, Yelena raised her coffee cup. “Here’s to second chances.”

You hesitated, a flicker of pride behind your eyes, before lifting your own cup. “To second chances,” you echoed, the clink of ceramic against ceramic feeling like a momentous occasion.

Thursday, two months later.

The chatter of the diner hummed around the three of you, a comforting backdrop of clinking plates, shuffling waitstaff, and the faint melody of Motown playing through the speakers

The tension that had once defined your interactions with Yelena, born from everything that had happened with Bucky, now seemed faded. In a way, it had been completely repaired by these weekly lunches.

Across the table, Alex was mid-story, her fork waving through the air as she recounted her new kitten’s latest reign of terror.

“And then she destroyed the blinds,” Alex said with a dramatic flourish she used in museum tours.

Yelena chuckled, her chin propped on her hand as she watched Alex with a mix of amusement and intrigue. Maybe even affection.

But sure enough, the lull in Alex’s story gave her the opening she needed. She turned to face you, tilting her head.

“So,” Yelena began, “what’s going on with you and Bucky?”

The shift in conversation was sudden, but you weren’t surprised. Yelena was nothing if not direct, and she had a way to steer the conversation in whichever way she pleased.

Alex’s eyebrows shot up, her fork freezing mid-air, curious. “Oh, good question,” she said eagerly. “You haven’t really talked about him much lately. Are you two… okay?” 

You hesitated, your fingers absently picking at the corner of your napkin as you considered how you should answer. “We’re… figuring it out,” you said finally. 

Yelena raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That’s vague,” she said, skeptical. “Try again.”

Surprising even yourself, you laughed, setting the napkin aside as you leaned back in your seat. “It’s just… complicated,” you insisted, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 

“Now that’s more interesting,” Yelena smiled softly. “Go on.”

Alex leaned in too, her elbows on the table. “Start from the beginning,” she said, grinning. 

You sighed, but there was no malice in it. “Fine,” you relented as your thoughts drifted to the past few months. 

“I told you about the dinner, right? The day I came home?”— they both nodded— “Well, the next day, he asked if he could come over for coffee. I almost said no—But… I agreed.”

Yelena made a soft, approving sound, “And?”

“And,” you continued, smiling faintly, “he showed up with two cups from that little café down my street. You know, the one with the crawling plants? We sat across the kitchen table, and it was like we were strangers on a first date. It was… weird, but not bad. We just talked. About music, about books, about how he wanted to start swimming more. It felt…” You trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Normal?” Alex offered, her tone gentle.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Normal.”

The knock at the door was soft, almost hesitant, like Bucky was giving you time to change your mind, to pretend you weren’t home anymore. For a moment, you just stared at the door.  You needed this. No, you wanted this.  You wanted him.  When you opened the door, you saw Bucky leaning on his heels with two coffee cups in his hands, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. His hair was tied back, and his leather jacket looked just a little too warm for the season. “Hey,” he said, offering a small, nervous smile as he held up the cups like a peace offering. “I, uh, I know you ran out of ground coffee at home so I got your favorite. Unless you don’t want your favourite. In which case—” “I want it,” you interrupted, an exhausted smile on your face, “Thank you, Bucky.” His shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Good. That’s good.” You stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. The air felt heavier inside, the awkwardness wrapping around you both like a scarf wrapped too tightly around your neck. Bucky followed you into the kitchen, setting the cups down on the table and pulling out a chair before glancing at yo. You sat down, gesturing for him to do the same. He slid into the chair across from you, his metal fingers tapping lightly on the edges of the table. For a moment, it was painfully quiet, the silence stretching long enough for the faint hum of the fridge to fill the room. You stared at the coffee cups, fiddling with the coasters. “Thank you,” he started, running a hand over his face. “For giving me a second chance.” You sipped your coffee, watching him over the rim of the cup. He was trying. You could see it in the way his fingers fidgeted, the way his eyes flickered up to meet yours and then darted away again— he was bracing for rejection. “You did ask nicely,” you said finally with a teasing chuckle, as if saying ‘you’re okay. You’re not crossing a line.’ The tension wasn’t gone, but you both had eased it last night.  He winced, unsure of what to make of your dry humour. “You brought coffee.” you offered a shy smile. “That’s something,” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Baby steps,” he said softly. As you settled back into your chair, the conversation began to flow. It was hesitant at first, but soon enough, you were talking about music, about the book you started reading when he left last night, about how he was thinking of taking up swimming again because, "it might be nice to feel weightless for a bit.” It felt… strange, but also familiar. It was the kind of moment you didn’t realize you needed until it was happening. And even all the awkwardness and the lingering edges of frustration, it felt normal. As you finished your coffee, you caught him glancing at you, the tiniest hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “Just… thanks for letting me come over.”

Yelena leaned back. “So, he’s trying to win you back with caffeine and small talk?”

Your laugh came easier this time, the tension in your chest easing. “Something like that.”

Encouraged by their attention, you went on.

“There are still nights when he texts me late, confessing that he’s been pacing for hours, anxious about me— about us. At first, it scared me. I didn’t know how to help, didn’t know if I even could. But now…” You paused, gathering your thoughts. “Now I call him. I stay on the line. I let him talk, let him share pieces of himself he wouldn’t've told me otherwise. It’s hard to hear sometimes but it feels important. Like he’s finally trusting me.”

“And do you talk to him about… your stuff too?” Alex asked. 

You nodded, the memory of those late-night conversations blooming a warmth in your chest. “For the first time in a long time, I feel like I can. Vulnerability isn’t just a one-way street, and we’ve….we’re both still learning.”

One night, you were jolted awake by a string of text notifications. You checked— it was all from Bucky. I can’t sleep. Been pacing for hours.  Thinking too much. About you. About us. You’d stared at the screen, unsure what to say or do. With a deep breath, you decided to call him.  The phone rang once, then twice, before he picked up. His voice was rough, like he hadn’t used it in hours. “Hey.” “Hi,” you’d say softly, leaning back against your pillow. “Anxious again?” A small, self-deprecating chuckle would follow. “Yeah. Sorry. Did I wake you?” You lied. “No.” Then you let him talk. At first, it was fragmented—confessions spilling out in pieces. He’d talk about the nightmares, the way he sometimes felt like he didn’t deserve to be loved. “It’s like…” he’d say one night, voice cracking just enough to make your chest ache, “I keep waiting for the day you’re gonna wake up and realise I’m not worth it. That this—” a pause, a sharp inhale “—that I’m too much.” Your heart broke, but you didn’t interrupt. You’d learned not to. Instead, you stayed on the line, letting him speak until the silence between his words grew longer, like the storm in his head was finally passing. “Bucky,” you said when the quiet stretched too long. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right? I gave you a second chance because you’re worth it.” His voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper. “I’m trying to believe that.” And slowly, he was. Somewhere along the way, you started sharing your struggles too.  One night, you admitted, “I still feel guilty for not being able to remember. I— I feel like I’m never going to live up to the expectations that people have of me. Like I’m never going to be enough ever again.” Bucky had gone quiet, and for a moment you worried that you’d said too much. But then his voice came through, “You’re more than enough. I don’t know I’ve told you that recently, but you are.” That night, you cried after hanging up—not from sadness, but from the overwhelming joy of being heard. Your relationship wasn’t perfect. You both still stumbled, still had moments where the walls crept back up. But those late-night calls had become a lifeline, a place where both of you could be messy and imperfect and still… safe.

Alex’s eyes were thoughtful, Yelena’s lips pressing into a contemplative line.

You cleared your throat, “But it’s not all heavy, I promise. We’ve been going on more dates again— like walking through the city or grabbing dinner at places we used to love. He’s even started leaving little notes around my apartment. Cute stuff, like reminding me to take care of myself when he’s not there.”

This time around, dating Bucky was like rediscovering a book you used to love—familiar, comforting, but still filled with moments that could surprise you. The casual dates were your favourite. As you walked down the streets together, the bustling noise always felt muted. He always made a show of remembering little things—pointing out the bookstore where you’d once spent hours, or stopping by a food truck where you’d apparently eaten a ridiculous number of tacos one summer. You didn’t remember, of course, but you trusted him.  Dinner dates were no less charming. Bucky had a knack for choosing the right place—not too fancy, just enough character. “You deserve something better than just takeout,” he’d said once. You could see the effort in every small gesture: how he’d pick up your favourite dessert on the way back home, or how he made sure you had no training drills the next morning when he planned a late night. And then there were the notes. It came after the first month, when you gave him the spare key to your apartment again. The first one caught you off guard, a scribbled “Hey, don’t forget to eat lunch today” stuck to the fridge. You’d smiled, shaking your head, and tucked it into a drawer. But they kept coming. Little scraps of paper, each one carrying a piece of him—gentle reminders, sweet compliments, even terrible doodles that made you laugh until your sides hurt. One morning, after a particularly late mission, you’d found one stuck to your door: “Proud of you. Rest—you earned it.”

Yelena’s brow arched, intrigued.

“One morning,” you continued, the smile on your face growing, “I forgot my jacket, and he showed up at the training ground with it. Didn’t say much, just handed it over. He bought like four of my favourite chocolate bars and stuffed them in my pocket.”

It had been a long, cold morning at the training ground. You’d left in a rush, forgetting your coat. You mentioned it to Bucky when you ran into him in the kitchen that morning, beating yourself up mentally for being forgetful— a particularly touchy subject for you. It was just your luck that Clint had prepared to do outdoor training. You spent the first hour of drills shivering in the cold. You weren’t expecting him to show up—Bucky had been busy with his own schedule—but there he was, standing by the edge of the field with your jacket draped over his arm. He didn’t say much, just walked over, handed it to you, and nodded. But when you slipped it on, your hands brushed against something bulky in the pockets. Curious, you reached in and pulled out not one, but four of your favourite chocolate bars, the wrappers crinkling as you stared at him. “Thought you might need a pick-me-up,” he said casually, knowing how much forgetting had upset you. “Bucky…” you began, but he just shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets, as if to downplay the gesture. “Don't make a big deal out of it,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched in a small smile. But it was a big deal. Not because of the chocolates, not even the jacket, but because of the way you realised he truly cared. That night, when you found another note tucked into the chest pocket—“you’re enough, even when you forget”— you couldn’t stop smiling.

“That’s sweet,” Alex let out a small chuckle. “He’s really trying, isn’t he?”

“So am I,” you nodded, though your voice was quieter now.

Yelena hummed, finally breaking her silence. “Sounds like progress,” she said in approval, “Though I’m still surprised you haven’t kissed him yet,” Yelena remarked, leaning back in the booth, arms crossed like she owned the place.

“We’re taking our time,” you rolled your eyes. “I don’t want to rush into something just because it’s familiar.”

Yelena hummed, playfully scrutinizing. “Must be hard,” she said, her voice wrapped with faux sympathy. “Especially because he follows you around the compound with those big, stupid puppy dog eyes.”

Alex, who’d been happily munching on her toast, choked on a laugh. “Really?”

You scoffed, but your cheeks warmed ever so slightly. “We’re still rebuilding,” you replied, brushing off the teasing, pretending it didn’t hit closer to home than you wanted to admit.

Yelena’s eyebrows softened at your words, her sharp wit momentarily dulled by concern.“Speaking of your little ‘rebuilding phase’... let’s talk about this mission you’re going on with him tomorrow.”

Alex perked up immediately. “Mission? Oh, is this classified?” she teased, holding up her hands like she’d been caught eavesdropping. “Should I, like, cover my ears or something?”

“Relax, Alex,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Just a standard recon mission. Nothing exciting.”

Yelena stirred her coffee as if it had committed a crime. “What was Sam thinking? Pairing you two up now of all times? While you’re still… patching things up. He should’ve sent you with Torres instead. That guy’s boring enough—gets the job done, no drama.”

“Torres isn’t boring,” you protested, half-defensive, half-amused, knowing Sam would smack her upside in the head for talking about his friend that way. “He’s just… new, still a little shy. Give him a break.”

“Whatever,” Yelena waved her spoon dismissively. “He’d still be less of a potential disaster than you and Bucky.”

“We’re not a ‘disaster,’ Yelena,” you leaned forward, narrowing your eyes at her. “Besides, I think this mission is going to be good for us. Working together again… it’s what we need, it’s like testing a boundary together, y��know?”

Yelena raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue further, though you could tell from her expression she wasn’t entirely convinced.

But you didn’t need her to be. You were genuinely excited for this mission. It wasn’t just a test of trust—it was a step forward, a small chance to rediscover yourselves together. 

“Fine.” Yelena sighed, finally relenting. “But if you two screw it up, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’”

Alex shook her head at this mission talk. She wasn’t in this world, but she appreciated it. In time, she might even grow to understand it. But for now, she raised her coffee cup with a grin. “Here’s to testing boundaries!”

You clinked your cup against hers with a small laugh, stealing a glance at Yelena, whose smile had now returned. 

“To testing boundaries,” you said, more to yourself than anyone else.

The bell above the diner’s door chimed as Bucky stepped inside. You spotted him immediately, his broad shoulders framed by the doorway, his hair slightly tousled from the wind outside.

“Speak of the devil,” Yelena muttered under her breath, sipping her coffee. She had not even bothered lowering her voice.

Alex, ever the peacemaker, nudged Yelena with her elbow. “Play nice,” she whispered. Then, she turned toward Bucky with an exaggerated wave. “Hi, Bucky!”

You rolled your eyes at Alex’s enthusiasm, but you couldn’t help smiling as Bucky made his way over. 

“Hey,” he greeted the table, his voice low and warm, his eyes affectionately landing on you.

“Hey you,” you greeted softly.

Yelena leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. “Tin Man finally decided to grace us with his presence.”

Bucky smiled faintly, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he slid his hands out of his jacket pockets. “Nice to see you too, Yelena,” he replied evenly, his tone carrying just the right amount of dry humour.

Alex, clearly enjoying herself, leaned forward. “You know, for people who fought about what’s best for her for months, you two are surprisingly civil.”

Bucky gave Alex a polite smile, while Yelena groaned and gestured playfully. “Oh, please. I was always civil. He’s the one who—”

“Not here,” you cut in quickly, “We’re not doing this here.”

Yelena held up her hands in surrender. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll behave, besides,” she said with a knowing shrug, “I think Bucky’s here to steal you away from us.”

At that, Bucky finally looked into your eyes. “If that’s alright,” he said, his voice quiet but hopeful.

Before you could respond, Yelena waved her hand dismissively. “Fine. Borrow her. But bring her back in one piece, Barnes.”

You stood, smoothing the front of your shirt, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your chest as you slid out of the booth. “I’ll see both of you soon,” you said.

After waving a goodbye, Bucky held the door open for you, the chill of the wind pricking on your skin. 

He glanced at you hesitantly, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

“Hot chocolate?” You asked.

“Hot chocolate,” he confirmed, holding out a hand. It was a simple gesture, but something about it felt significant. His flesh hand—not the metal one—hovered in the space between you, waiting patiently. For a moment, you caught the faintest hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

Then you reached for him.

His hand was warm, his palm slightly rough against yours. When your fingers intertwined, it felt… solid. Right. Like the two of you were anchoring each other in the moment. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand. It wasn’t the first time you’d held hands with him, but it felt like the first time since everything— since the fractures, the distance. 

“Is this okay?” Bucky’s eyes softened, his lips curving into a small, private smile, one meant just for you. 

“It’s perfect.”

-to be continued...

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[waynes-multiverse]

I was soooooooo excited for this! *breathes in sharply* Okay let's get started 🍿😎👏

“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.”

I love their friendship so much 😂 And kudos to Dory. It takes a lot to agree to this. It could potentially get very awkward 😝

“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”

God, I know. This is honestly what I think about the most when I watch Tracker. The whole story line is insane and intriguing and... 😅 I have a thousand questions, and there's so much you could do with it in fics. I love it (clearly) 😂🤍

Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”

I do think Russell knows a lot more about their past than he lets on. Also, he was way too chipper for someone who was accused of patricide by his own brother for twenty years. The dynamic between the brothers is just... interesting 👀

Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.

Right... 😆

“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 

Oh, she's going full Reagan! 😂 I sense some trouble coming from the brother, though...

“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”

Well, I hope he already picked out his casket... 🙈💀

“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.

I'd be a puddle before I even made it to the damn seat 🫠

And they are literally so cute together! I'm full on swooning over here 😍

Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.

Ah, yes, the family business. Love that sublte hint 😆 Would be a good name for a brewery, tho 👍

He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.

I like that you emphasized the darker parts of his life. Like I said, I don't buy his whole "I'm happy and funny and quirky" act. There's a lot more stirring beneath the charming surface 😅 (Another thing he has in common with Dean lol)

And oh, don't we love a good cry on the first date? Poor thing 😂🤍

“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said. “Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.” He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”

Indeed 😂 I would've loved to be a fly on the wall when Dory had this conversation with her lol

How he very eloquently avoided talking about Colter accusing him of murdering their father. I wanna be a fly on the wall for that future convo too 🤣

And he slapped you right on the ass.

Loved that she got a punch in before even Russell got there. He might have actually killed that pig lmao

“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.

I'm having vivid flashbacks to Smoke Eater 🥵🔥

But his hands were gentle for you.

This line just about killed me... 🫠🫠🫠

“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”

I appreciate that kind of humor 😂😂

“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

I absolutely can see him saying that 💯😂

He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car.

Probably one of my favorite scenes is when characters are so hot for each other they lean against a car. There's just something so incredibly passionate about it 🔥🫠

“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.

Oh, Russell, this is not what the lady wants to hear. Bless him tho 😂

And I figured she wanted more than a one-night-stand or fling. His job and lifestyle truly is a bit of a problem. But he wanted out anyways, so... 🤞

I loved their first date! 😍🤍 Hopefully, they'll see each other again soon and might give this another shot. I have a feeling it's gonna involve her brother's bullshit somehow 😅

Every Second Counts - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 1: "Permission Granted"

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.

“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.” 

Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.

“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”

“A-huh,” Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”

Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.

He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…

“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.

“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”

“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.

“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”

You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.

“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.

“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”

Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”

You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was. 

“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.

“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.

You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.

“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”

Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.

You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.

“Goodnight,” you called.

“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.

You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.

After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.

Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.

The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.

Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.

His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.

He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.

“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.

You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.

“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”

He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.

“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”

You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.

“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache. 

Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again. 

“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”

“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”

The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.

“How much?” you asked.

He frowned up at you. “What?”

“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.  

“It’s okay, don’t worry—”

“How much,” you pressed.

He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.

“About two grand,” he admitted.

You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.

“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.

Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”

You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.

“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.

Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.

“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.  

His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.

“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.

“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”

“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.

“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.

“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.

“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously.  

“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”

You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s. 

By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.

The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.

You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.

You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.

“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.

You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.

“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”

You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.

“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.

Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ‘awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”

He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.

“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.

Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.

After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.

“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.

You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.

Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.

Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.

“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.

Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.

You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.

“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”

“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”

You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.

“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.

Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.

“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”

Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”

“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”

“After?” he prompted.

You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”

Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.

He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.

You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.

“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”

You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.

You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”

He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.

“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.

It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.

God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.

“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.

Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.

“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.

“What’s his name?” Russell asked.

“Charlie.”

“Older or younger than you?”

“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”

Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?

Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”

You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.

You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.

Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?

“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”

He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”

He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass. 

“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.

Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”

His lips briefly raised in a wan smile. 

“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.

You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket. 

“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”

Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”

You gave a weak smile.

“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words. 

His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.

An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.

“Well. Heavy, huh?”

You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.

“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied. 

“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”

“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.

“Come on,” you said.

He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”

“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.

Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.

“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.

And he was true to his word.

Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.

“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.

He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.

“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.

“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.

You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.

Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.

You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.

He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).

“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”

“Like that matters,” you quipped back.

You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.

And he slapped you right on the ass.

You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.

Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.

Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.

His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.

“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.

"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.

“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”

His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.

Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.

“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.

“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.

“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.

Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.

“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”

If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.

You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”

Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.

You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.

You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.

Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.

And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.

I like this, you thought. And I like him.

However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.

"I'm okay," you tried.

"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."

“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.

“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.

Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.

“Feelin’ better?” he asked.

Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”

You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.

But his hands were gentle for you.

“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.

“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”

“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”

Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.

He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.

“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.

“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”

Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.

“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”

You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.

“She?” you intoned.

“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.

You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.

“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.

“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.

Russell decided he’d take that bet.

He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.

But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.

He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.

You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.

You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.

Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.

His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.

His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.

You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.

“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.

You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.

“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.” 

You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed. 

“How long are you really in town?” you asked.

His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”

“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”

“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. 

Your heart tugged, almost painfully.

“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—” 

You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers. 

“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.” 

After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.

“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said. 

Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.

Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.

After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.

You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.

When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.

Charlie still wasn’t home.

Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.

And it worried you even more.

I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right. 

— C.

AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂

And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?

Next Time:

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

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[ducktoo]

Cold Food, Warm Heart

Kwon Eunbi x Reader

Note: waaaaa my first ever ult bias. I missed writing Eunbi fics sooo tyty

(IZ*ONE Eunbi is still in my heart 💙)

The first time Eunbi cancelled on you, it was easy to shrug off. Work comes first—it always has for her. She called you an hour before she was supposed to show up, apologizing profusely about an unscheduled meeting with her management team.

“Next time, I promise,” she’d said, her voice warm and familiar, the kind of voice that could melt even your worst frustrations.

You’d smiled, even though she couldn’t see it. “It’s fine, Eunbi. I get it. Don’t stress about it.”

And at the time, you had meant it. One canceled date wasn’t the end of the world. She was busy; she had responsibilities. You admired her drive, her passion for her work. It was one of the reasons you fell for her in the first place.

But then it happened again. And again.

Dinner plans were rescheduled. Weekend meetups turned into fleeting visits. Late-night calls were cut short because she was too tired to keep her eyes open. You stopped planning anything altogether because you knew there was always a chance she’d cancel.

It wasn’t that she didn’t care. You knew Eunbi loved you; she told you in every quick text, every kiss on the forehead before she rushed off to her next schedule. But the words were starting to feel hollow when her actions said otherwise.

You couldn’t even pinpoint when it started hurting so much—when the excuses and the apologies began to feel like cracks in the foundation of what you’d built together. Maybe it was the night you waited up for her, a plate of her favorite pasta going cold on the counter, only for her to text at 11 PM: Just got done. Heading home. Sorry.

Or maybe it was the day you saw her on TV, laughing and smiling during a variety show recording while you sat at home, wondering when she’d last laughed like that with you.

She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was working hard, chasing her dreams, achieving things she’d always talked about. But somewhere along the way, you started feeling like a footnote in her life, an afterthought buried under schedules, photoshoots, and fan meetings.

You told yourself you’d wait it out, that things would get better once her workload lightened. But weeks turned into months, and the ache in your chest only grew.

By the time Saturday night rolled around, you were already bracing yourself. Eunbi had said she’d come over after work, but you weren’t holding your breath. You tried to distract yourself, cleaning the apartment, scrolling through your phone, turning the TV on and off. None of it worked.

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, the name lighting up the screen like a beacon.

Eunbi.

For a second, you think about letting it go to voicemail, but it’s not a call. Just a text.

I’m on my way. See you soon!

it should have brought relief. Instead, it felt like a bandaid on a wound too deep to heal.

The thing is, it’s not that you don’t want to see her. You really want to see her.

It’s that every time you do, it feels like a reminder of how much you don’t deep down. Weeks turn into months, and the glimpses of her you get in person feel like water through your fingers—fleeting, impossible to hold onto.

You’re tired of pretending it doesn’t affect you.

The knock at the door snaps you out of your spiral. You rise slowly, dragging your feet toward the entrance. When you open it, she’s there, bundled in an oversized coat, her cheeks flushed from the cold. Her smile is dazzling as always, but instead of warming you, it feels like a spotlight, too bright to look at for long.

“Hi,” she says, stepping inside and shrugging off her coat. She’s carrying a bag, which she sets down by the door. “I brought food! And I got those cookies you love from the bakery near my shoot.”

You nod slightly, shutting the door behind her. “Thanks.”

She glances at you, her smile faltering for just a moment. “You okay? You look… tired.”

“Yeah, just tired,” you mutter, moving back to the couch and sitting down. She follows, sitting close enough that her knee brushes yours.

“You didn’t eat yet, did you?” she asks, rummaging through the bag. “I got your favourite. We can eat now if you’re hungry.”

“I’m fine…” You groaned, the annoyance oozed out more than you wanted.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. Finally, she set the food down, turning to face you fully.

“Okay, what’s going on?” she asked, her tone firmer now. “You’ve been like this for weeks, and every time I ask, you just say you’re tired. I know there’s more to it, so talk to me.”

Her words should have been comforting, but they only made the knot in your chest tighten.

You hesitate, your eyes fixed on the floor. This is what you always do—swallow the words, bury the feelings, let them rot inside until they’re nothing but bitterness. But tonight, the weight of it is unbearable.

“I don’t know, Eunbi,” you say, your voice low, almost to yourself. “I don’t know if I’m…fine.”

She frowns, her hand resting lightly on your arm. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh, and her hand withdraws. “What’s wrong?” you repeat. “What isn’t? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. And when I do, it’s like you’re here, but not really here.”

Her brows knit together in confusion. “What are you talking about? I’m here now, aren’t I? I came straight from work—”

“That’s the problem!” you cut her off, your voice louder than you intended. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “You’re always coming straight from work, or going back to it. When was the last time you spent more than a couple of hours here? When was the last time we just… talked?”

“We’re talking now,” she says softly, but there’s a tremble in her voice. “I know I’ve been busy, but this is my job. This is what I’ve always wanted—”

“And what about what I want?!” you snap, your chest tightening with the weight of everything you’ve held back. “I want us, Eunbi. I want to feel like I’m a part of your life, not just some afterthought squeezed in between schedules.”

Her eyes widen, and for a moment, she looks like she’s about to cry. “You’re not an afterthought,” she says, her voice trembling. “You’re the most important person to me. You know that.”

“Do I?” The words tumble out before you can stop them. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like I’m competing with everyone else—your fans, your managers, your career….And I’m always losing.”

“That’s not fair,” she said softly, her brows furrowing. “You know how hard my career is—”

“Hard?” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “You know hard it is to just swallow it. I’ve been trying to be understanding, to support you, to tell myself it’s okay that I’m always second—no, third—to your career. But I’m not okay, Eunbi. I’m tired. I’m so damn tired.”

She stares at you, her mouth opening and closing like she’s searching for the right words. “I… I didn’t know you felt like this.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” you say bitterly. “Because I never say anything. I knew that before we start dating. I’ve been sitting here, telling myself it’s fine, that I should just support you no matter what."

Your knuckles turned white from the frustration. "Call me a hypocrite all you want, but I’m-“

You swallowed a sob. “I’m so tired of pretending I don’t feel like I’m slowly disappearing from your life.”

Her hands clench into fists on her lap, and tears well up in her eyes. “I’m trying,” she whispers. “I’m trying so hard to make this work. Do you think it’s easy for me? Do you think I don’t miss you every second I’m not here?”

“Then why does it feel like I’m the only one breaking under this?” Your voice cracks, and you hate the way it sounds—so raw, so vulnerable. “I don’t want to feel like this, but I don’t know how to stop.”

She reaches for you again, her fingers brushing yours, but you pull away, standing abruptly. “I can’t do this right now,” you say, your voice hollow. “I’m exhausted.”

“Wait,” she says, standing as well. “Please don’t shut me out. We can figure this out. Just… don’t walk away.”

But you’re already heading toward the bedroom. The weight in your chest feels cold and unbearable like the untouched food, and all you want is to escape it, even if just for a little while.

“I’m tired, Eunbi,” you say without turning back. “I need to sleep.”

The door closes behind you with a soft click, and the silence that follows is deafening. You collapse onto the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion and regret. As your eyes close, you think you can still hear her muffled sobs from the other room. But the pull of sleep is stronger, and soon, it drags you under, leaving the echoes of her voice behind.

-

The sunlight streams through the cracks in your curtains, landing uninvited on your face. You blink awake, your body heavy with the lingering weight of last night’s exhaustion. It takes you a moment to remember why the air feels so suffocating, why your chest feels so hollow.

Then it hits you—her face, tear-streaked and trembling, her voice breaking as she begged you not to walk away.

You sit up slowly, rubbing a hand over your face. Guilt lingers like a bad taste in your mouth, but you push it aside as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. The apartment is silent, eerily so, and for a moment, you wonder if she’s gone. When you open the door, your heart sinks.

She’s still here.

Eunbi is curled up on the couch, her body barely taking up half the space. Her coat is draped over her like a makeshift blanket, her head resting on a pillow she must’ve grabbed from the armrest. Her face is peaceful, but even in sleep, there’s a faint tension in her brow, as if her dreams haven’t quite let her escape the weight of last night.

You stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do. The sight of her like this tugs at something deep in your chest—a mix of guilt, sadness, and the faintest flicker of warmth. She stayed. Even after everything, she stayed.

The bag of food she brought is still on the coffee table, untouched. You glance at it, then back at her. The urge to do something—anything—gnaws at you, but you’re frozen in place, your feet rooted to the floor.

She stirs slightly, her brows furrowing as her eyes flutter open. For a second, she looks confused, her gaze darting around the room before landing on you.

“Hey,” she murmurs, her voice hoarse from sleep. She pushes herself up slowly, wincing as she stretches. “You’re up.”

You nod, unsure of what to say. The weight of last night’s words hangs heavy in the air between you.

“I… I was going to leave,” she says quietly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the coat. “But I thought—no, I hoped—you’d want to talk in the morning.”

Her eyes meet yours, searching for something—an answer, a sign, anything. You look away, your hands shoved deep into your pockets.

“I didn’t think you’d stay,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her lips press into a thin line, and she nods slowly. “I thought about leaving. I didn’t want to make things harder for you. But I couldn’t just… walk away. Not like that.”

You let out a shaky breath, running a hand through your hair. “Eunbi, I…” The words catch in your throat. You don’t know where to start, how to untangle the mess of emotions swirling inside you.

“I’m sorry,” she says suddenly, cutting through the silence. Her voice trembles, and her hands curl into fists in her lap. “I’m sorry for making you feel like this. I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you. I thought—I thought I was doing enough just by showing up, but I wasn’t really here, was I?”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. You shake your head, swallowing hard. “It’s not just your fault. I should’ve said something sooner. I thought if I just kept quiet, it would be easier. For both of us.”

“But it wasn’t,” she says softly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “And now it feels like I’ve ruined everything.”

“You haven’t,” you say quickly, the urgency in your voice surprising even yourself. “We’re not ruined, Eunbi. We're never ruined…."

You paused for a moment, scrambling your head to find the right word. "We’re just… stuck. I don’t know how to fix this, but I don’t want to lose you.”

Her gaze softens, and for the first time since last night, she smiles—a small, tentative thing, but it’s there. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, the tension in the room slowly giving way to something softer. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.

“I’ll do better,” she says after a while. “I’ll make more time for us. Real time, not just whatever scraps I can manage between schedules. You deserve that much.”

You nod, the knot in your chest loosening slightly. “And I’ll be more honest. I’ll tell you when I’m struggling instead of bottling it up.”

She reaches out tentatively, her fingers brushing yours. This time, you don’t pull away.

“We’ll figure it out,” she says, her voice steady despite the tears slipping down her cheeks. “Together.”

You squeeze her hand lightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Together.”

The silence stretches between you, but it’s no longer suffocating. Eunbi's hand lingers in yours for a moment longer before she pulls away, brushing the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“So…” she begins, her voice still a little shaky but carrying the tiniest hint of warmth, “should we eat? I mean, if the food’s still okay.”

Your gaze flickers to the bag on the coffee table, and your stomach gives a low, traitorous grumble. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, the weight of last night masking everything else.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice soft but firm. “We should.”

She gives a small, tentative smile and gets up, grabbing the bag and bringing it to the dining table. You follow her, sitting across from her as she starts pulling out the containers.

“I got your favourite,” she says, a bit shyly now, as if unsure of how you’d react. “It’s probably not as good reheated, but…”

“It’s fine,” you cut in gently. “Thank you.”

She looks up at you, surprised, then nods. Carefully, she opens the containers, the familiar aroma wafting through the air. Your stomach growls again, louder this time, and she lets out a soft laugh.

“Guess we should hurry before you pass out from hunger,” she teases lightly, sliding a plate over to you.

You shake your head, but there’s a faint tug at the corner of your lips. It’s small, but it’s something.

As you eat in silence, the tension that had clung to every word between you starts to dissolve. The food isn’t perfect—slightly cold and a little soggy—but it’s enough.

You two could’ve microwaved it, but last night was too draining for it to think about the obvious.

She watches you carefully, taking small bites of her own meal. Every so often, your eyes meet, and she gives you a faint smile.

“You know,” she says softly, breaking the quiet, “this isn’t how I imagined last night going.”

You pause mid-bite, glancing up at her. “Me neither.”

She lets out a breathy laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But… I’m glad we talked. Even if it hurt. I needed to hear it.”

You nod, chewing thoughtfully. “Me too.”

The weight in your chest feels lighter now, not gone but manageable. The food, her presence, the fragile understanding between you—it’s not a solution, but it’s a start.

As the last of the food disappears from the plates, she leans back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head. “Okay,” she says with a mock groan, “I think I’m officially in a food coma.”

You glance at her, the faintest hint of a smile crossing your face. “That’s what happens when you bring too much.”

She sticks her tongue out at you, the playfulness in her expression making her look years younger. For a moment, it’s almost like nothing’s changed.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, your eyes meeting hers.

“For…what?”

“For staying.”

Her smile softens, and she reaches across the table, her fingers brushing yours again. “I’ll always stay.”

The warmth of her words settles over you, filling the cracks that had formed over time. You don’t know what the future will bring, but for now, this is enough.

[whiteferraristurns]

𝒲𝒜ℛ𝒩ℐ𝒩𝒢𝒮! Smut, pet names, She/her pronouns.

🐻ྀིྀི - i personally think this sucks this is my first time writing smut so please bear with me. I made this so long ago so i’m sorry if it’s actual ass

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬ღ

Chris had never ordered an uber so fast. You had texted him saying that you were finally ready to let him have you.. All of you. You two had been together for almost two years now and you had never gone past heated makeout sessions or some light touches. You were so nervous he wouldn’t like what he saw even though you knew that he worshiped you and he always reminded you of that. He was always so patient with you. He wanted you to be ready and he waited until you were. 

The sun was setting, casting a warm glow through your window as you waited for Chris to arrive. you glanced at the clock for the third time in five minutes, anticipation bubbling up in your chest. He had texted you a few minutes ago, saying he was almost there. You couldn’t wait. You were finally ready to give that last part to him. It was a scary thing to think about but you trusted him with your life.

A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. Your heart skipped. You sighed running a hand through your hair before rushing to open the door, your face lighting up as you saw him standing there, his signature grin already on display. “Hey, pretty girl,” Chris greeted, leaning in to give you a quick, soft kiss on the cheek. He looked comfortable and laid-back, wearing his favorite hoodie and a backwards hat that kept his unruly hair in check. You loved that about him—how he always looked so effortlessly good.

“Hey handsome.” you said softly, stepping aside to let him in. "You made it, I thought you’d get lost or something." Chris chuckled, slipping his shoes off. “Oh, please. I could find my way here with my eyes closed at this point.” you smiled and closed the door behind you. You walked up to your room. You sat on the bed looking up at him with your big eyes and innocent looking features. Chris had always loved how pretty and innocent you looked. He was ecstatic that he was the one going to take your virginity. You were the purest not really understanding the jokes he’d thrown around, or how to really do anything.

Part of Chris wanted to bury himself deep inside you as soon as possible and the other part wanted to savor every moment. Your chest rose and fell with every breath. Nervousness bubbling in your chest. “Do you know what it means when we do this baby..?” Chris mumbled. You shook your head. “Words.” he rubbed a hand down your arm. His eyes took in every detail of you and imprinted it into his mind. Your skin glowing beneath the dim lights. “No..”

“It means you won't be the only virgin in our group anymore.” He rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip smirking at his own joke. You rolled your eyes and pushed his hand causing him to chuckle.  “Lay back f’me..” you nodded and moved your head onto the comfort of your pillows. Chris kissed your cheek. 

He grabbed the hem of our shirt looking at you in approval. You nodded once again. He pulled your shirt up over your head. The light orange bralette that sat perfectly on your chest displayed everything. His face lit up. “When did you get this?” he asked, his fingers ran over the lace.. “Yesterday.. I thought you’d like it..” you sheepishly smiled. “No, I don't like it.” your face dropped. “I love it ma.” Your face filled with obvious relief. “I’m just messing’ with you.” 

he chuckled, running a hand down the side of your body leaving goosebumps in his wake. “Lift your hips for me love.” you did exactly as he said. He pulled your shorts down. “Matching panties too? You tease.” you smiled. He kissed your stomach. “Okay once again.. Are you one hundred percent you want to do this?” You nodded. “Yes chris. I’m one hundred and 10 percent.” He smiled up at you and ran a finger over your clothed clit. A gasp left your lips. 

He spread your thighs open more.  A soft whimper left your lips. “Chris don’t tease..” He frowned. “That’s the best though.” You shook your head lightly. He slowly pulled the panties down your legs. He almost drooled at the set of your dripping wet folds. “You are so wet fuck.” 

He cursed. You suddenly got self conscious. You went to close your thighs before Chris stopped you and pushed your thighs open again. “Baby that’s a good thing.. You're gorgeous.” you bit your lip. He leaned down and kitten licked your clit. Causing you to whine. He maintained eye contact. He flattened his tongue against your clit, alternating between long, slow licks and slowly but surely fastening his flicks. He was so fucking hungry for you, for your taste, for the innocence shattering beneath him at this very moment. “Oh fuck- chris,” You gasped, placing your hands in his hair. “I need—oh God.” you threw your head back when he shoved his tongue into your dripping hole. 

His hands dug into the fluffy flesh of your thighs.“You taste so fucking good.” He mumbled against you. The unfamiliar feeling bubbling up in your stomach. “Chris i-”  you gasped he pulled away slightly rubbing his finger over your sensitive bud. “Just let go Ma.” he breathed, leaning back down and continuing his pace. He sucked and licked and till you started to shake under him. Your thighs closed around his head, he quickly pushed them back open. You bucked your hips against his face. 

 Chris pulled away with a big smirk on his face. He licked his lips. “You did so good f’me”  you looked at him with a blushed out face he leaned up and kissed you shoving his tongue into your mouth. You could taste yourself on his tongue. He pulled away and dropped his head into your neck sucking dark marks into your skin. He trailed down your neck onto the cleavage of your tits. 

He continued to suck dark marks. He pulled the bralette off you and dropped his head instantly sucking onto your perky nipples. You moaned softly as he kneaded your left one. He switched and gave some attention to your other one. You ran a hand through his hair. He pulled off with a small “plop” which caused you to flush. He smirked up at you. “Your so pretty baby.”

He stood up pulling his shirt off and then his sweatpants. An obvious wet spot was forming from his boxers. He discarded his boxers quickly after. Your eyes darted down, you couldn't help it. You had always imagined something like this but it scared you. “baby..” He chuckled. 

Your face flushed with embarrassment. He rolled on a condom and got up back on top of you hovering over you. “I wish I could say this isn't gonna hurt but if it becomes too much you tell me okay sweetheart?” He reassured you. “Okay.. I trust you..” He nodded and rubbed his throbbing head against you. You whined. He slowly pushed into you. You grabbed his bicep. 

He wasn't even half way in and it hurt. It hurt so bad you almost called it then but Chris kissed your cheek. He completely stopped his movements and looked at you with scared eyes.  “You can continue..” you mumbled. He nodded and pushed more in. He hissed at how tight you squeezed him. Once he was fully in you you looked up at him with tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “I’m gonna move okay..?” He asked. 

You shook your head, eyes glossy. He soothed your hair out slowly moving out and then back in. The pain slowly turning into pleasure. “You can go faster.” He bit back a smirk and picked his pace up. Everytime thrusted into you the more that feeling bubbled back into your stomach.

 “Fuck mamas your taking me so good.” He grabbed your hips. “Chris!” you screamed as he pushed himself deeper into your gummy walls. He repeatedly hit your G- spot. Yours and his orgasm ripped through you both. Your moans and his groans mixed together as you both came undone on each other. 

As he pulled out you whimpered at the loss of contact. You felt so full with him in you. He disappeared into the bathroom. You sighed with a huge smile on your face. He came back out with a warmed washcloth cleaning you up. His face seemed so focused on making sure you were clean.

He brushed the sweaty pieces of hair off your face. “Arms up.” You lifted your arms up as he slipped his shirt over your body then slipped your underwear up your legs and over your hips. You two slipped under your covers as you laid on his chest listening to his soft heartbeat. “Was it just how you imagined..?” he mumbled, rubbing small patterns into your hip. “Even better. Thank you, handsome.” You mumbled back. He smiled like a kid in a candy store and pulled you closer. “I love you pretty girl.” you hummed back and drifted off into sleep in the comfort of your boyfriend's arms.

🐻ྀིྀི shatter me reference? (Iykyk..) ALSO PLEASE TELL ME HOW YOU GUYS FEEL ABOUT THIS😓

TAGS ʚ♡ɞ @sturniqloo @strnilolover @themotherofmattschildren @chrislilcumslvt @il0vecatzzz @aymeesblog @heartz4matt @mattsfavginger @ncm9696 @starfuckoff @chrissturnioloslvt @n0tnovaa @ghostlyplug

[aboutcustardcreams]

To a Love that Never Dies

Summary: Neither you nor Agatha can divine when Rio will return. Sometimes, the uncertainty feels like a blessing, but on other days or nights, as in this case—it becomes a real struggle. You and Agatha share a moment.

warnings: none, hurt/comfort.

previous chapter

1756

You had been quiet for a while, sitting cross-legged on your shared bedroll. The only sound you could focus on, other than the soft snoring of your son, sleeping close to you. His breathing kept you alive. The fire crackled and hissed, its warmth licking at your cheeks. Your fingers danced towards it, as if tempted to reach out and touch. Fire didn’t scare you– it should have, and yet there were worse things to be afraid of. You learned the hard way. You had to say goodbye to one of the loves of your life, to begin with. And the possibility of having to go through the same trauma, but with your son, was crashing you in the most unimaginable way, slowly but constantly. 

You let out another sigh. Agatha had lost count of how many you’d released that night. She was watching you intently from the corner of her eye, for minutes now, as your eyes darted from your son to the flames, then back to your son, bundled snugly beneath a thick blanket a few feet away from you. A small, tentative smile touched your lips as your gaze lingered, soft and loving, but also apprehensive. It was the look of a mother. The look of someone willing to do anything to grant their child’s safety. When Agatha scooted closer, her fingers found their way to your thigh, gently brushing it, to pull you out of your haze.

When you turned, the smile on your face didn’t reach your eyes. 

“Your silence is awfully worrying, my love,” she whispered gently. 

A wave of guilt rushed through you, as you pursed your lips, “I’m sorry–” It seemed the most sensible thing to say, because you were sorry and for so many things, you didn’t know where to start. 

Agatha’s brows knitted in a frown, then. Her confusion grew considerably the moment unshed tears clung to your lashes and welled up those beautiful eyes of yours, signaling her you were this close to crying.

“No, no, no, hey–” she cooed, her face leaning inches closer to yours, “whatever are you sorry for?” Always ever so gently, Agatha kept stroking your skin at your thighs. 

You focused on her hands and exhaled a shaky breath as you conjured up the memories of that day. It was supposed to be any other day really, and yet, as you and Agatha plotted to corner a lone witch who was wandering by herself in the woods, Nicky had decided to interfere. He didn’t just ask you not to kill the witch. No, he had actually begged in a way you knew you couldn’t refuse. In a way that kind of paralyzed both Agatha and you. ‘We can kill more witches tomorrow’, he had said, hopeful. That sentence had hit you like thousands of bricks crushing upon you. The weight of that plea had been unbearable, not just for what it meant, but for what it revealed. What if Nicky was starting to believe that killing witches was something normal to do, something that needed to be done, every other day? But worse, so much worse, what if he felt responsible, as much as you and Agatha were? The way he said ‘we’, that single, damning word–  You’d rather die than let him carry even a shred of your guilt. Of the actions only you and Agatha were to blame for. 

“I feel like I let him down,” you muttered breakingly, unable to elaborate further. 

Agatha’s frown deepened as she shook her head slowly but firmly. She had her suspicions that your distress could revolve around that. But she would be damned before letting you believe that, in any way, you had disappointed your son, “You did exactly the opposite. Don’t you see? You… we showed mercy.” Despite the circumstances.

Your gaze shifted to the flame again, as you nibbled at the inside of your cheek. You didn’t know if that was true. You wanted it to be, but–

Agatha’s hands ran up to your face then, fingers brushing the curve of your jaw before settling beneath your chin. She turned it, eager to meet your gaze, to dive into those eyes of yours and suck away your pain, “you listened to him. You did exactly what he asked of us.”

Despite your initial snort, the curve of a tight smile crossed your lips, “how could we not?” 

Agatha nodded with a grin, as she playfully nudged at your arm, “he’s too much like you not to question every single thing we do.” 

When she heard you chuckle quietly, her gaze softened. There you were, the real you, slowly crawling back to her. 

“He’s got the best of each of us.” 

Agatha’s chin tilted up, pride flickering across her face at your remark, “absolutely.”

“Do you ever think about her?” She knew right away who you were talking about, but waited for you to say her name to answer you, “I mean, about Rio.”

Agatha raised her head to better look at you in the eyes, “Course, I do–”, she admitted with a tight smile. There was no point in lying, was there? Despite everything, Rio would always be a part of her heart that unfortunately got ripped from her, from you. And Nicky. 

Your features dimmed a bit, and your nose scrunched up in thought, “she warned us, so we would be prepared for that day to come, and yet–” you exhaled, your voice still barely above a whisper. So small and fearful, Agatha’s heart ached right away. 

She slid an arm around your middle, “and yet?” She repeated, encouragingly, her fingers smothered over your arm. 

You sighed. “It’s not just Nicky I’m worried about,” your voice came out in a low murmur, and Agatha had to lean closer to you to grasp it. “It’s Rio, too. I’m terrified that someday this love I feel for her will twist into hate.” And that was the last thing you wanted. Because you loved Rio, despite everything. And you wanted to keep that sentiment intact, because it made you, you. “But if she takes him–” your voice dropped in fear, your chest suddenly too tight to allow your words to slip out completely. You were afraid of the person you’d become if she succeeded and you failed. Afraid of change in general. 

Agatha’s arms tightened around you, and at the same moment her lips pressed against the top of your head, in a small, comforting gesture, that served for the both of you. 

“I just wonder why–?” Your voice croaked, and you had to swallow a lump in your throat, before continuing, “why does it have to be this way?” 

She clenched her eyes at your question, “I don’t know, my love. I wish I knew, I wish–” 

“It’s just not right, Agatha. It cannot be.”

It was easier to be delusional, to fool yourself into believing that as long as you were alive, Nicky would be too. All you had to do was kill witches every other day. It was wrong, a cowardly move, but neither of you knew any better. 

“It’s not,” she muttered firmly. When you pulled away to take in her face, her fingers smothered your hair, exactly as she would do with Nicky every morning, “I wish things were different,” her lips curved into a faint, fragile smile that barely held. 

You nodded weakly. She was trying her best, too. Honestly, at this point you thought everyone was doing his part. Rio included. After all, she was giving Nicky time, when he wasn’t even supposed to take his first breath.

When a single tear slipped from Agatha’s eyes, it was your turn to brush it away. 

“I never thought there would come a time where I’d hate one of you.” 

Your eyes widened in shock at those words. 

A pout formed on your lips. “No, hey. Don’t talk like that,” shakingly, reverently, your palms cradled her cheeks. Your eyes welled up once again, you couldn’t help it. Agatha didn’t hate Rio, of that you were sure. And you didn’t either. “Maybe the answer is to not hate her. I mean, who says we have to?” 

She squeezed her eyes shut and said nothing for a moment, thinking, mulling over the possibility of still loving her, despite everything. “If she does take him, as she said she would–” she hesitated, her voice dripping with a whirlwind of emotions. Fear, anger, frustration. Agatha had always known what Rio was capable of, that she was a much more powerful witch than she could ever dream to be. And if it never bothered her at first, it surely did now because she was powerless against her, against the things she could do. 

“I’m not sure I could ever forgive her. Damn–” a breathless chuckle, humourless and bitter escaped her. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same…” 

You stilled and looked momentarily taken aback by her words. Agatha was being honest with you, she was once again opening her heart to you, but the weight on your shoulders could only duplicate, because you and only you were the key to save Nicky, to prevent things from changing drastically. And if you failed, it was on you. Agatha’s pain, Nicky’s and yours. Even Rio’s. 

Your jaw tightened, as you tutted, “sometimes I wish we could jump to that, end all the suffering now and give him a proper chance.”

In order to live, Nicky needed to die first. 

Agatha’s face paled, however she didn’t dare to interrupt you. 

“And I know that my magic doesn’t come without risks, but I’m ready. Hell- it feels like I was born for this. I can save him, and I will– no matter the cost– no matter how much it will shatter my soul to–” To hold your lifeless child’s body.

Noticing your struggle, Agatha decided to step in, “hey, no, shhh– don’t go there. He’s here. He’s still right here.” 

It was true. But for how long still?

Leaning closer, Agatha ran both her hands up and down your arms, in a featherlike touch, meaning to ease your panic, “I’ll be there with you, you hear me? You won’t have to face it alone. Never. Your price to pay is mine, too,” she promised solemnly. 

Hesitantly, you attempted a weak nod of your head and she nodded back, in an encouraging way. 

“And then…” She trailed off, fingers gently ghosting over your skin. Never leaving. Never daring to. You were her anchor, after all. “We will be okay. Finally free.” 

It was nice to imagine a happy ending. So you focused on that, you had to. A pang of relief washed over you, as soon as you did. She was right. Of course, she was. She had to be. You nodded again, a watery chuckle slipped from you. 

Agatha opened her arms, then, “Come here,” pulling you closer, she pressed her forehead against yours. When her mouth brushed against the corner of yours, your eyes glimmered, and so did Agatha’s, despite still being a bit red and puffy for all the crying. 

After a moment of silence, you cleared your throat to speak again, “I was thinking—” your eyes darted back to Nicky. You stared at him for a bunch of seconds, memories of that morning coming back to you, and causing your lips to press in a line.  He didn’t look well. You wanted to blame the light of the moon for making his skin appear so milky, yet you knew it had nothing to do with that. He needed help. Magic, to be exact. And that day, you and Agatha had failed to grant him some.

“You should take some of my power— you know, for Nicky,” you tumbled out. 

As soon as your words slipped out, Agatha pulled away from you, her eyes stared into yours, long and hard and shadows fell across her face. 

You winced, “Agatha.. I know it’s scary, but–” 

Her eyes narrowed, as she sat up, putting a small distance between you and her. Her tone came out sharp, “I’m sorry but you don’t know anything.” 

You took the blow in silence, looking away from her. It hurt. You knew your request could upset her and it did. But it was worth a try, “if you say so.” 

She raised her eyebrows when you said that, then she grabbed your chin, forcing you to keep your gaze on her. She wasn’t going to let you look away, not now, not with that tone you’d used, condescending, as if you were the only one fighting, the only one willing to try anything. 

“You know I can’t do this,” her breath hitched, frustration filling her voice. “I could kill you, damnit!” 

All you wanted was to help your son. A soft hum tumbled from your lips, causing her heart to burst, quite literally. You knew what she was capable of, and yet you still believed she could stop in time, if she only tried. 

Her fingers softened against your jaw, so did her voice, “tell me why you’d suggest something like that?”

Nicky didn’t look good, that’s why. 

You stared at her with the same intensity, “because Nicky needs it, Agatha.” 

She stilled for a moment and clenched her jaw, “That’s not enough reason to willingly and dumbly sacrifice yourself!” 

You swallowed– you didn’t mean to. But before you could say it, she urged on. “He needs you. Hell, I need you. You’re his only hope to– we just talked about that!” Agatha wanted to scream, to raise her voice, you saw that by the way her magic was trembling and gathering around her, around you. You sure pushed a sore point there. 

You recoiled then, “okay… okay,” you muttered, reaching out to touch her shaky hands. She was right, you knew she was, but the fear for your son’s health had blurred your judgment for a second. 

Agatha’s voice dropped, “what makes you think I could ever live with myself if I took your life?” 

A whimper tumbled from your lips. “I’m sorry— I only asked because I trust you,” you trailed off, your voice shaking a bit. “I’m not deliberately asking you to kill me. I would never. I quite like being alive,” your attempt at humor made Agatha crack a smile, a tight, very brief gesture, you wished you could freeze in time to always replay in your mind. 

“Well flash news for you, I can’t,” she muttered, in a lower tone. Resigned, even. “So please, don’t bring it up again.”

You nodded carefully. “Okay. It’s fine.” It really wasn’t but you couldn’t really force her, so you didn’t push it any further. “I’m sorry I upset you.” 

When Agatha lifted her gaze once again to meet your eyes, she noticed your face all scrunched up and her stomach dropped. How soft she was for you was beyond her understanding. 

“If you apologize one more time, so help me Dark Mother–” she responded, her tone a tad more playful and light than a moment ago. 

You gave her a sheepish look then. 

“I understand you. I truly do,” she breathed out, her fingers curling around yours. “I just can’t bear the thought of putting you in danger. If something were to go wrong–” 

Your eyes softened, you looked at her in a way to say that it wasn’t necessary for her to continue, “I got it. It was a bad idea, stop tormenting yourself now, ‘kay?” 

She scoffed, yet you could clearly see her lips curling up a bit, “easy for you to say after nearly giving me a heart attack-!” she pulled back with a click of her tongue. 

You chuckled again, “I’m sorry–”

Agatha rolled her eyes, which only made you chuckle harder. Hadn’t she told you to stop apologizing for whatever reason? You had to bite your bottom lip then, when she cocked an eyebrow at you. Agatha’s hands slid down and gripped at your waist. With extreme ease, she pulled your body even closer to hers, and then, she pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. When she pulled away, she caught you blushing and her heart bursted with so much love. 

You cleared your throat, as she tucked a strand of your hair from your face, “you’re such a wonderful mom to our son, Agatha Harkness.” 

She stilled. You could clearly see the emotion in her eyes, raw and vulnerable. It meant the world coming from you, “you’re not bad yourself,” she teased, making you nod and chuckle again. Then she turned serious, her thumb grazing your cheekbones, eyes getting lost in every detail of your face, “I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for him, actually.”

You looked momentarily taken aback, but in a good way. 

She adored everything about you, every expression that crossed your face, every little reaction she could draw from you. There wasn’t a single thing about you that felt out of place. You were beautiful, so beautiful, sometimes she thought she  didn’t deserve you. 

Unaware of Nicky stirring beneath his blanket, his small body shifting as he rubbed sleepily at his eyes, Agatha leaned in and placed her lips, warm and plump, against yours. Her hands rested firmly on your waist, grounding you in the moment, while your fingers found their way into her thick, unruly hair, twisting and tugging gently exactly how she liked it. 

Agatha hummed pleasantly, a smile curling upwards, "delicious,” she praised. 

Your eyes lit up, a chuckle slipped out, “thanks. You’re yummy,too.” 

Agatha threw her head back and blew a raspberry, “yummy? How old are you? One hundred and fifty?”

You scoffed. Before you could reply to that, another voice preceded you. Both you and Agatha spun around towards your son sitting down in the middle of his bedroll. 

“Moms?” He said with a yawn. 

“Hey, big man,” you brushed a stray lock of hair back, tucking it behind your ear, “What’s up?” 

He looked pale, paler than usual, but you tried with all your being not to focus too much on that detail. You’d kill a witch first thing in the morning tomorrow. That was the plan. It was going to be fine. 

“Can I sleep with you?” 

“Of course, you can–” Agatha smiled. “Hop here,” she patted the spot between you and her, and he immediately jumped to his feet, his blanket still over his shoulders, as he landed between you two. Once settled, you three laid back, your arms wrapped instinctively around Nicky’s body, his cheek on your chest, your chin above his head. Agatha snuggled closer, she placed a protective arm over you and Nicky, and pressed a soft kiss over Nicky’s temple. 

“Better?” You asked him. 

“Very much. Thanks.” 

A small smile tugged at your lips, as you stared at him with pure fondness, occasionally peppering small kisses over the crown of his head. In the meantime, Agatha ghosted her free hand over Nicky’s hair, knowing way too well that little trick would make him fall asleep.  

When you lifted your chin, yours and Agatha’s eyes met. She mouthed ‘I love you’ in your direction, which made your heart flutter. You gave her a grin, before reaching out, trying not to disturb Nicky’s sleep, and pressed your lips to hers in a kiss– a goodnight kiss, perhaps. As your lips parted, you stayed close, your breath mingling with hers as you whispered, “love you, too.” 

[andikiramman]

your little girlfriend thinks i'm pretty

caitlyn x vi x maddie

word count: 5.7k

A/N: y'all i did it... but jsyk i started writing this before the finale so unfortunately this isn't the hate sex some of y'all were hoping for, but i mean if y'all really want it i wouldn't mind making it happen(◠‿◕)

MEN, MINORS, AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Ever since Vi became an Enforcer, she knew that there’d be those that wouldn’t want her there. Entitled Pilties that think she’s leeching off the head of the Kiramman household for whatever stupid reason they came up with. Honestly, she was okay with that. She spent her entire life being judged and discriminated against by Topsiders; at this point, she really couldn’t give less of a fuck.

However, even she had her limits.

Vi barged into Caitlyn’s office (being the only one in the entire precinct with enough audacity to do so), kicking the door shut and plopping down in one of the chairs in front of Cait’s desk. She was visibly fuming, her arms crossed tightly in front of her as her leg bounced with agitation. 

Even though she wasn't looking at her directly, Vi knew Cait was watching her, waiting for her to justify her behavior.

“Cupcake, I’ve had it up to here with your little girlfriend, okay?!” Vi sneered.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes at that, sighing and dropping her pen onto the desk.

“Vi, how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling her that? Maddie is not my girlfriend, you are!”

“Then can you please remind her so she can leave me the fuck alone?!”

Cait went silent for a moment as she took in Vi’s words.

“What do you mean by that? Has she been giving you problems?”

Vi scoffed. “Uh, yeah! I swear, ever since you broke things off with her, she keeps… staring at me!”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “Staring…?”

“Yes, staring!” Vi repeated. “I swear, it’s like she has some sort of problem with me, or something!”

“And since when did you care if someone had a problem with you?” Cait frowned.

Vi prepared to say something, but she just sighed, rubbing her temple.

“Look, typically I really wouldn’t give a shit– I wouldn’t have even come to you if it were anyone else but, you know…”

Vi gave Caitlyn a genuine look, and she finally understood.

“Alright, I’ll… I’ll speak to Maddie myself, okay? I’ll see what’s going on.”

Vi nodded silently, standing up to leave. “Thanks, Cupcake.”

“Oh, and Vi?” Caitlyn called just before she left.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Vi smiled, her shoulders visibly relaxing. “I love you too, Cupcake.”

Feeling a sense of relief, Vi opened the door, only for a body to come tumbling down from the other side.

Vi jumped back, her fists instinctively came up to shield her face, ready for a fight.

“What the- Maddie?!”

The junior officer brushed herself off, grabbing the beret that fell off her head and fixing it back on. “Oh, Vi… top o’ the morning…”

Cait silently observed in confusion, but at this point, Vi was enraged.

“Do you see what I mean?!” she shouted. “Why the fuck is she here?!”

Before Cait could offer an answer, Vi was picking up Maddie by her collar, the smaller woman’s feet dangling in the air as she yelped.

“What’s your fuckin’ problem with me, Nolen?” Vi questioned aggressively. “What is it about me that’s bothering you so damn much, huh?!”

Maddie spluttered, struggling to find an answer as she fought to find some sort of footing. 

“I don’t… I–”

At this point, Caitlyn was growing increasingly frustrated that she was being inhibited from completing her paperwork, so she decided to put an end to the shitshow immediately.

“That’s enough!”

Vi and Maddie both froze, turning their attention to the Sheriff.

“Vi, please put Junior Officer Nolen down, now.”

The redhead did just so, setting Maddie down gently (though she felt more inclined to just drop her).

“Maddie, close my door.��

Maddie gulped, wordlessly turning and closing the door to Caitlyn’s office.

“Now,” the sheriff sighed, clasping her hands together, “from what I understand, there seems to be some sort of dispute between the two of you.”

Maddie furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t have any problem with–”

“Yeah fuckin’ right!” Vi interrupted with a scoff. “Ever since Cait dumped you you’ve been eyeing me like I got something that belongs to you!”

Maddie blinked a few times, her cheeks starting to redden in a blush.

“I… I have?”

Vi rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that shit, Nolen. Every time I happen to glance your way, you’re staring right at me!”

Maddie averted her gaze as she began nervously playing with her fingers. “Oh…”

“Oh, so you’re not even gonna deny it?” Vi sneered, marching right up to Maddie and harshly grabbing her cheeks to turn her face back towards her. “What’s your fucking deal, Nolen?”

Maddie gasped, her blush spreading to the rest of her face. She gulped, seemingly steeling her resolve, before opening her mouth to speak.

“You’re pretty…”

A beat of silence.

“W-What…?”

Maddie took a deep breath in to cool herself down.

“I-I have to admit Vi… at first, I was kind of jealous of you. I guess at first, I really was glaring at you.”

Vi finally let go, taking a step back and raising her eyebrow. “But…?”

“But,” Maddie spoke again, fiddling with the edge of her shirt, “the more I watched you, the more I found myself becoming… attracted to you.”

Caitlyn was still eerily silent. She’d never imagined the scenario before her ever happening but she wasn’t going to complain about it, either. If she played her cards right…

“A-Attracted… to me?” Vi rasped out in shock. Her breathing became heavy, and she couldn’t tell whether it was from anger or anticipation.

Maddie nodded. “You… you’re very pretty, Vi. I never considered you to be my type but–” she turned to Caitlyn– “I see the appeal.”

Caitlyn said nothing as she looked between Maddie and Vi, letting her girlfriend attempt to handle this situation on her own.

After being paralyzed with shock, Vi finally let out a scoff, which turned into a chuckle. She stuck her hands in her pocket, slowly making her way over to Caitlyn’s chair.

“You hear that, Cupcake? Your little girlfriend thinks I’m pretty…”

Caitlyn side-eyed her, waiting for the redhead to continue.

“…So much so that she couldn’t keep her eyes off me for months. To top it all off, she even followed me to your office, for who knows why.”

Maddie gulped, keeping her eyes glued to the floor in front of her. She gasped when her chin was suddenly forced upwards, being met with Vi’s cloudy grey eyes.

“So now what, Nolen?” Vi muttered huskily. “You told us exactly how you feel, n’ you got us both right where you want us, so what now?”

Maddie’s breath quickened, her eyes dropping to Vi’s lips for a brief second before returning her gaze.

“I… I think this is something we could maybe talk about another time…?”

Before Vi could answer, Caitlyn stood, cutting the conversation short.

“You know what? Officer Nolen is right,” she announced. “Do keep in mind we are still on the clock.”

This time, Caitlyn allowed herself a slight smirk, turning her attention to Maddie.

“Maddie, why don’t you come pay us a visit tomorrow?” The taller woman offered. “I feel the relaxed environment would be more suitable for this sort of dilemma… how does that sound?”

Maddie, visibly stunned, stuttered for a moment, before finally finding a response.

“Uh… y-yeah, sure.”

🢝 🢝 🢝 🢝

“O-Oh fuck… Vi…”

The redhead simply hummed in response, her mouth occupied on Maddie’s neck. She alternated between kissing, biting, and sucking, anything to elicit those cute little sounds she’s been making since Vi got her hands on her. Vi’s hands in question were roaming Maddie’s body, shamelessly groping her ass as she pulled her ever closer.

The warmth building up within Maddie’s body was starting to grow unbearable, despite the slightly revealing spaghetti strap dress she currently had on (she had to admit, though she’d have no problems with simply coming over to talk, she prayed that her visit would lead to something a bit more… physical).

“Sure you don’t wanna join in, Cupcake?” Vi asked Caitlyn from the crook of Maddie’s neck. “I'm sure our little guest would enjoy her visit more if we both showed her a bit of hospitality…”

Oh my god, yes please! Maddie begged in her mind.

Caitlyn was currently seated on a chair efficiently placed in front of the bed, which happened to offer a splendid view of the two women making out on the mattress before her. She took a sip from the cup of tea she poured herself, humming at the sweet taste of organic raspberry leaf.

“I’m quite alright at the moment,” she respectfully declined, “I believe the two of you should spend some time working out your differences first. Though, I may feel more inclined to join a bit later on.”

Vi only shrugged before bringing her attention back to Maddie. She grabbed the smaller woman’s neck, pulling her in for a nasty kiss full of tongue. She swirled the muscle around Maddie’s own for a few seconds before pulling away, a string of saliva stretching out between their lips. 

“Why don’t you take this off for me, sweetheart?” Vi muttered as she tugged at Maddie’s dress.

Maddie nodded, wordlessly tugging her dress off of her body and tossing it to another part of the room. She nervously bit her lip when she noticed Vi’s teasing stare.

“Lace?” she questioned. “Oh, you really came here hoping to get fucked, huh?”

Maddie shrugged. “Guess there isn’t a point in denying it anymore, is there?”

The younger woman grabbed Vi’s face, pulling her in for another kiss as they fell back on the mattress. Vi growled into Maddie’s mouth, rough hands coming up to harshly palm at her breasts. A whimper turned into a gasp as black lace was torn apart, dusty pink nipples hardening as they were exposed to the cool air.

“Vi!”

Vi hummed as she kissed a trail down Maddie’s chest, the tip of her nose following the trail her lips left.

“Sorry, ‘m getting a bit impatient.”

Maddie let out a curse as she felt the wet warmth of Vi’s tongue envelop a nipple, her back arching off the bed as her legs wrapped around Vi’s waist.

“Fuck, so am I… just fuck me already…”

Vi scoffed, and Caitlyn simply offered an amused huff.

“Don’t think you can boss me around just ‘cause you’re getting what you want,” the muscled woman grumbled, punctuating her warning with a bite to Maddie’s breast.

Maddie yelped, her body flinching from the pain. Still, that didn’t stop her audacious behavior.

“What I want is for you to stop fucking talking so much and just eat me out or something!”

At that, Vi pulled away, sitting back on her heels as she glared at the ginger in front of her. Maddie, realizing she was a bit out of line, shrunk in on herself, her face turning a deep shade of red.

“P-Please…?”

Vi squared her jaw, before shaking her head and sighing. “Y’know, I see why Cait likes you so much,” she mused as she tugged Maddie’s black panties down her legs. She had half a mind to shove them into Maddie’s mouth, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, she grabbed Maddie’s thighs to pull her closer before holding her by the back of her knees to keep her legs spread open.

“It’ll be fun to get you off that damned high horse of yours.”

That was all that was said before Vi finally dove into her, her tongue tasting all that Maddie had to offer. She groaned as her tongue delved into Maddie’s hole, relishing in the sweet essence that was her arousal. And fuck, was there so much of it, the anticipation building up over the last two days keeping the woman soaked. Vi ate Maddie out like she was her last meal, her strong hands keeping Maddie’s legs firmly tucked against her chest.

Maddie, on the other hand, was absolutely losing her mind. She’s dreamed of this. Touched herself to the thought of this. Nothing, absolutely none of it, could’ve actually prepared her for the real thing. Vi was inexplicably good at giving head. Every time Vi decided to slip her tongue into her pussy, her nose nudged her clit, sending a hot jolt down her spine that had her thrusting her hips into Vi’s mouth. And when Vi decided to finally give attention to her aching clit— holy shit, it was like Maddie’s third eye opened, the pleasure alone had her feeling on top of the world. She kept one hand tangled in Vi’s hair and the other bunched in her own, sweet cries of pure bliss escaping her slacked jaw and spit-covered lips.

“Oh my– o-oh my god, fuck… Vi!”

Vi only responded with a whine of her own; she was clearly enjoying herself down there, eating Maddie simply for her own pleasure and nothing else.

Cait quietly watched the scene before her, one leg crossed over the other as she began pouring herself another cup of tea and adding a spoonful of sugar. Her scrutinizing blue eyes traced the curves of the women’s bodies, especially zeroing in on where Vi’s mouth moved diligently against Maddie’s core. It was as though she had front row seats to her own private show, everything on such clear display for her viewing pleasure. She couldn’t tell whether the warmth sizzling inside of her was from the tea or the two women making a mess on her bedsheets, but what she did know is that she’d feel the need to join them very soon. She pried her eyes away from the main event for just a moment to examine Maddie’s face. Her fucked out expression, her scrunched eyebrows, her eyes that were squeezed shut, the staccato breaths that left her lips… Maddie was going to cum, and very soon.

“Vi… Vi, please I’m so close… I’m, I– oh, ohfuck!”

Maddie clawed at the bedsheets as her orgasm rushed through her, her entire body quivering with the white-hot rush of ecstasy. Vi didn’t stop, though. She didn’t even slow down her ministrations against Maddie’s cunt. She ignored the sporadic twitching of her hips, Maddie’s whines from overstimulation, and even her unsuccessful attempts at closing her legs against Vi’s strong hands.

Maddie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as both of her hands tangled themselves in Vi’s hair. Her back arched with each insistent swipe of Vi’s tongue.

“Oh my– Vi, shit… Vi, I already, mmph oh my fucking–”

Maddie went tumbling headfirst into another orgasm, this one knocking the wind out of her. Yet, Vi didn’t stop, nor did she show any signs of stopping. The stimulation was bordering on overbearing at this point, and Maddie turned her head to Caitlyn in hopes that she could talk Vi out from between her legs.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear,” Caitlyn apologized, despite the obvious lack of sympathy in her voice, “Vi’s enjoying herself so much that I don’t believe she plans on stopping anytime soon.”

And Caitlyn could not have been more right in that moment. One, two, three orgasms later, and Vi was still devouring Maddie from the inside out. At this point, Maddie was barely present, her entire body going slack on the bed. Her eyes couldn’t even focus, and all she could muster at this point were pitiful whimpers.

“No…” she whined weakly. “Vi…”

Caitlyn let out an amused hum, grabbing her teapot in hopes to pour another cup of tea, only to find that it was completely empty. She tsked in annoyance, finally standing from her seat.

“Vi, be nice.”

At the sound of Cait’s authoritative voice, Vi finally lifted herself up from between Maddie’s legs.

“Just look at the poor thing,” Cait mumbled, “I fear you may have broken her.”

Vi put Maddie’s legs down, and the ginger woman immediately took the chance to squeeze them shut, whimpering a small fuck as she did so.

“‘S not my fault,” Vi grunted, “she was getting arrogant.”

“Oh yeah?” Cait challenged as she began stripping down herself, until she was left in just a camisole and panties. Her pebbled nipples poked through the sheer fabric, and Vi couldn’t help but lick her lips at the sight. Her eyes moved down, taking in the entirety of Cait’s lithe figure: her long legs, her gentle curves, and a face with looks that could kill.

Damn, how did she manage to get so lucky?

It was seductive, the way Caitlyn’s hips rocked as she stalked over to Vi. She cradled her girlfriend’s cheek before going in for a kiss, sweet yet deep and full of passion. Once they pulled away, Cait bit her lip, looking Vi’s up and down.

“Go get the strap, love,” she commanded softly.

At that request, Vi’s cheeks reddened in a blush. “You’re gonna let me…?”

Cair raised an eyebrow at Vi’s implication. “I believe you’re mistaken, dear. I plan on folding you up just like you had our friend here,” she clarified with a motion towards Maddie, who was laying with an arm slung over her eyes.

“Now hurry up and go get it,” Cait reiterated. “I’m feeling a bit… energized. In the meantime, I’ll make sure she’s comfortable.”

Vi nodded rapidly as she stuttered out an affirmative. She was quick to scurry off the bed, going into their large walk-in closet in search of the toy and harness.

In the meantime, Cait made her way over to Maddie, signaling her presence with a soft brush of her hand.

“You okay, honey?” she hummed.

Maddie groaned, her arm falling away from her face.

“Vi is fucking insane…”

Caitlyn chuckled. “Vi’s a munch,” she corrected. “You were doomed from the second you told her to eat you out. Go on and get comfortable on the pillows, you can rejoin when you’re ready.”

With a grunt, Maddie moved herself up to settle on the mountain of pillows. Today was going to be a long day…

Vi came back just seconds later, the jet black toy in one hand, a harness and bottle of lube in the other.

“Good girl,” Caitlyn praised, taking the items from Vi and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I want you on your back.”

“Yes ma’am,” Vi replied, finding her place on the bed and resting back on her elbows. She could feel Maddie’s eyes on her, probably admiring her physique. She ignored her, instead focusing on Cait tightening the harness on her hips and strapping up.

When Cait finally turned her attention to her, Vi’s throat immediately went dry. The sight of the strap-on sitting perfectly on her hips had her body firing up from the inside out. Cait mounted the bed, crawling towards Vi until she was in between her spread legs.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Caitlyn muttered sensually, “all ready for me…”

Vi swallowed the lump in her throat, but all that came out was a strained whimper. Cait grabbed Vi’s calves and placed them on her shoulders, leaning in closer until their bodies were flush against each other. Vi let out a gasp as she felt the tip of the dildo run through her folds, and Cait hummed in response.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, Vi… Maddie’s got you all riled up, doesn’t she?”

Vi’s ears blushed a deep shade of red, and she turned away from Cait’s lingering stare. Cait bit her lip at Vi’s sudden shyness, deciding to tease her by grinding her hips forward. Vi squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth falling open at the toy catching against her clit.

“Fuck… Cait, please…”

Caitlyn smirked. “Fine, but only because you asked so nicely.”

Cait pushed her hips forward again, and this time the dildo went inside, stretching Vi out with each inch that gradually slipped into her.

“H-Holy shit, Cupcake,” Vi whimpered once it was all the way in. The position Cait had her in had the dildo reaching so fucking deep, it was like she could feel it in her stomach.

Caitlyn slowly pulled back a few inches, before snapping her hips forward again. Vi cried out in response, rough hands coming up to grab Cait’s shoulders.

“Please! Holy fuck, Cait, I need you to fuck me please!” she whined in desperation.

Caitlyn chuckled. “Gods, I love when you beg for me, Vi…”

Cait decided to give Vi exactly what she wanted, setting a brutal pace with the strap and being sure to bury herself to the hilt each time. She knew she was fucking Vi good, too, the redhead’s eyes glazing over as sweet whimpers and gasps escaped her lips. Fuck, what Cait would give to be able to feel Vi’s pussy in this moment. She’d stay here forever, just buried in Vi’s warmth.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so damn good, Vi,” Cait growled huskily as she roughly grabbed Vi’s face. Vi’s eyes finally focused (barely), and she keened at the sight of Cait above her.

“Mmh, shit, Cait you’re– oh fuck– you’re in my stomach,” Vi slurred in between loud moans.

“Is that right?” Cait teased. “This pussy can get so fuckin’ deep, huh?”

Vi nodded rapidly. “Mmh, yeah…”

Meanwhile, Maddie watched the scene before her like a hawk. Vi and Caitlyn… it was so rough, yet so intimate. She never thought Vi would be the type to beg, nor be the one to let someone pin her down and strap her the way she was, but since it was Caitlyn, she guessed that anything was possible. She had to admit, even though she wasn’t currently included, the two of them fucking like this was so hot. She swallowed, bringing a hand down to rub light circles against her clit. Her hips twitched; she was still a bit sensitive, but growing more aroused the longer she observed the couple in front of her. She used her other hand to pinch a nipple, rolling the rosy bud between her fingers at the same time. She let out a soft whine, the light pleasure she was giving herself had her rolling her hips against her hand. Shit, I wanna get fucked like that…

“Open your fucking mouth,” Caitlyn growled, and Vi did just so, allowing the taller woman to spit onto her tongue. Vi swallowed, opening her mouth again to show off her obedience.

“Good girl,” Cait muttered, leaning down to press her lips against Vi’s as she fucked her harder and faster.

“Ooh– oh Cait, Cait, Cait, fuck!”

Caitlyn groaned against Vi’s lips, not daring to stop her brutal pace for even for a second. 

“A-Ah, Caaaait, Cait, I’m so close, I’m gonna cum, fuck!” Vi screamed. Just seconds later, she was cumming, her strong legs locking Caitlyn in place as the rest of her body shivered violently with her release. After a few moments, Cait finally slowed down, leaning back and letting Vi’s legs drop to the bed below her.

“Fuck, you did such a good job,” Cait praised, pulling out of Vi to reveal the slicked up toy, drenched in Vi’s arousal. “You took me so well.”

Vi sniffled as she came down from her high. “T-Thank you…”

Caitlyn smiled down at her, so genuine and loving, before turning her attention to Maddie.

“You. Come here.”

Maddie, taken aback at the sudden shift, was stuck in place for a moment. The way Caitlyn watched her, one hand on her breast, the other in between her legs, she suddenly felt so… exposed.

“I don’t have all day, you know.”

At that, Maddie scrambled forward, until she was face to face with the Sheriff herself. Caitlyn grabbed her, kissing her in a similar fashion to the way Vi did earlier. It was nasty, sloppy, and full of tongue. To top it all off, Caitlyn started sucking on Maddie’s tongue, making the younger woman shiver with arousal. Before she could get too comfortable, however, Caitlyn pulled away. This time, she grabbed her roughly, positioning Maddie on her hands and knees right on top of Vi. Maddie gasped, now right in between the two, her heart was pounding at a mile a minute. She felt hands on her waist, which caused her to jump a little, before hearing snickering coming from below her.

“What’s wrong? You’re so jittery all of a sudden,” Vi teased. “Isn’t this what you wanted, Mads? Both of us…?”

Maddie gulped, letting Vi wrap her hand around her neck and pull her down for a kiss. It was slow, sensual, missing all the roughness from earlier. She could feel Caitlyn touching her, her slender fingers dipping in between her legs and inside of her. Maddie moaned against Vi’s lips, rocking her hips in tandem with Cait’s fingers. Vi’s free hand was aimlessly roaming her body, feeling the goosebumps along her back, the dip of her waist, and the swell of her ass. She could easily get lost in this letting the two women touch and play with her body however they pleased.

Then, she felt Caitlyn’s fingers leave her, only to be replaced by something much thicker. She gasped, turning around to look at Cait.

“Caitlyn…”

“I know how you are, Maddie,” Cait warned. “Don’t bother trying to run.”

With that, Caitlyn slowly pushed in, stretching Maddie out on the toy. Though it was well lubricated with Vi’s own release, it was still a tight fit.

“Oh my god!” Maddie cried. “Caitlyn, that’s too big!”

She tried lifting her hips forward to alleviate the pressure, but Vi was quick to stop her, using her strength to keep her in place.

“Didn’t she just say not to run?” Vi muttered. “Gonna disobey the sheriff?”

Before Maddie could muster a reply, Caitlyn was pushing forward again, gripping Maddie’s hips tightly to make sure she didn’t try moving. Maddie’s jaw dropped, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she was stretched to the limit. Her head was spinning; the toy was hitting every spot inside of her. When Cait finally bottomed out, Maddie felt a shiver run up her spine, tears welling in the corners of her eyes from the stretch.

“Aw, don’t cry,” Vi taunted. “You’re taking it so well, Mads.”

Maddie whined, sharp nails digging into Vi’s broad shoulders as Caitlyn started a slow pace, sheathing herself completely with each deep thrust. Maddie couldn’t help but try to pull away each time the tip kissed her cervix, but Caitlyn made sure to keep her in place so she wouldn’t go too far.

“Fuck,” Caitlyn groaned from behind her. She could see everything from her angle: Maddie’s walls fluttering around her cock as she tried to accommodate the size, strings of Maddie’s arousal stretching out between her pussy and Cait’s hips each time she pulled out, Vi tangling a hand in Maddie’s hair as the pair in front of her sloppily made out, one of Maddie’s own hands slipping between Vi’s legs to play with her clit; the straps of the harness rubbing oh so well against her clit wasn’t making her situation any better. Shit, if she didn’t make Maddie cum before she did, she wouldn’t be able to fuck her the way she’d liked.

Caitlyn quickened her pace, fucking Maddie with short and deep thrusts that had the sound of skin slapping together echoing throughout the room. Her nails dug into Maddie’s waist, pulling the woman’s hips back to meet her with each push forward.

Maddie pulled away from Vi’s lips to look back at Cait.

“Fuck… Caitlyn you’re so deep…”

“Takin’ her like a fuckin’ champ,” Vi replied before Cait could, grabbing Maddie’s hair and pulling her back to her lips.

Caitlyn huffed, breaking her gaze away from the two women to focus on the strap fucking into Maddie. She was dripping onto the sheets at this point, and the dildo had a white ring around it.

“Damn it,” she grunted under her breath. She slowed her pace down, giving herself a chance to come down before she reached her peak too soon. 

Maddie whined against Vi’s lips, pushing her hips back as a wordless plea for more. Cait smacked her ass in reply, causing the ginger to yelp.

“You really are an impatient one, aren’t you?” Cait grumbled. “If you want to finish this prematurely, just say the word. I can grant you that request.”

Vi chuckled, pulling Maddie away from their kiss.

“Aw, you’re being so hard on her, Cupcake.” Vi grinned as she took in Maddie’s expression, heavy with unabashed desire, lips wet and bruised from their harsh kissing. “You’re fucking her so good, and she just wants more, isn’t that right, Mads?”

Maddie nodded, a strained sigh escaping her lips.

“Mmh, I can give you that… say aah…”

Vi slipped two fingers deep into Maddie’s mouth, biting her lip when she gagged on them. Vi didn’t leave them in there for long, pulling her fingers out and smirking when a string of saliva stretched out from her lips. Then, she slipped her hand down Maddie’s back and right in between her ass cheeks, using one of her fingers to circle the place Maddie’s never been touched before. Maddie gasped into the crook of Vi’s neck, whimpering as the redhead’s finger continued rimming her ass.

“Yeah, you like that, huh?” Vi smirked. “Wonder if you’d even let me put it inside…?”

It was only a taunt, a teasing suggestion, but the way Maddie reacted to the possibility of having a finger in her ass turned it into a reality.

“Please,” she begged. “P-Put it in, Vi, please!”

Vi scoffed. “You’re something else, you know that, Nolen?”

Cait leaned forward just a bit, letting a dribble of spit fall right onto Maddie’s pucker. Vi teasingly pressed her middle finger against her, until Maddie pushed her hips back once more, showing that she really did want this.

Vi didn’t make her wait any longer, slowly pushing her middle finger into Maddie’s ass, right down to the knuckle. Maddie keened, her nails digging into Vi’s shoulders. At the same time, Cait gradually picked up her pace, fucking her pussy while Vi fingerfucked her ass.

Fuck, Maddie was on Cloud 9 right now. She couldn’t even think straight, the dual stimulation making her absolutely melt from pleasure. She was letting out incoherent babbles into Vi’s shoulder, completely unable to form full sentences. Suddenly, she felt a harsh hand tangle in her hair, and she was being pulled upwards. She had to hold herself up with her own hands, whimpering at the stinging sensation on her scalp. It was Cait’s hand, using her grip on Maddie’s hair to fuck her harder, deeper.

“I can’t believe one of my own subordinates turned out to be such a slut,” she huffed. “Letting Vi stick her finger in your ass? Needing both of us to satisfy you? You’re just insatiable, aren’t you?”

Maddie couldn’t even reply, each thrust of Cait’s dick and Vi’s finger knocking the wind out of her.

“Just look at her, Cupcake, she’s fucking addicted,” Vi added, “won’t be surprised if she starts following us around like some lost puppy.”

Maddie should’ve felt insulted, she really should’ve… but the couple was right. Her tryst with Caitlyn was quite enjoyable while it lasted, but having both of them… ‘fucking amazing’ couldn’t even begin to describe it.

Vi’s free hand snaked between Maddie’s legs to play with her clit, and it was over for her.

“Haa… I-I’m gonna cum!”

Maddie’s orgasm was powerful, so much so that she ended up squirting and soaking the bed sheets (and Vi) with her release. She trembled violently, wave after wave of aftershocks had her body pulsating. Caitlyn let go of her hair, and Maddie slumped against Vi’s chest, eyes squeezed shut as she attempted to catch her breath. Vi slipped her finger out, using both hands to massage Maddie’s waist.

Caitlyn, however, was not finished. After staving off her own orgasm for so long, she was right at the edge of release. She leaned over Maddie, grinding against her ass despite her weak whines of protest.

“Just take it Mads,” Vi shushed, “Let her cum first, she’s almost there.”

Maddie started to sob from overstimulation, one of her hands reaching back to grasp onto Caitlyn’s leg. Cait ignored her, squeezing her eyes shut as she only focused on getting herself over the edge. Her hips stuttered the closer she got, and she lost her rhythm, but soon she was groaning with bliss, her orgasm washing over her. She fucked herself through her orgasm until she physically couldn’t take it anymore, and she pulled the dildo out of Maddie with a slick ‘pop!’

Maddie slumped forward, dropping her hips to rest her entire weight on Vi. Caitlyn, on the other hand, slumped onto the mattress, silently catching her breath. 

“Well, that was fun…” Vi finally spoke after a while.

Caitlyn hummed, her lips forming into a tired smile. “Certainly…”

“What about you, Mads?” Vi asked the woman on her chest, only to be met with silence.

“Maddie…?”

Nothing but soft snores left Maddie’s lips, and Vi let out a soft chuckle. 

“Well, what do you know, we fucked her right to sleep.”

Caitlyn lifted herself up onto her elbow, resting her head in her hand. “I’m glad she enjoyed herself.”

Very gently, Vi turned to lay Maddie on the bed, before standing up. She put a hand out to Cat, who took it to stand as well. She helped Caitlyn take off the strap-on, even though she could very well remove it on her own.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

As their legs were still feeling the effects of their long fuck session, even the short walk to the bathroom had the couple walking funny.

“To be honest, I’m glad we did this,” Vi said as she turned on the warm water. “But y’know… really is a shame I didn’t get to eat you out myself…”

Cait was silent for a moment, her heart beating loudly in her chest at the flagrant suggestion. With a sigh, she poked her head out of the bathroom door, noting that Maddie was still fast asleep, before shutting the two of them in.

“Make sure you don’t wake her up,” Cait muttered, as Vi was already descending to her knees.

“Well, that’s all up to you, now isn’t it?”

okay so what did y'all think...? was it bonita?

[rose24207]

I saw requests and I've read some of your Mafia Lando fics, can you do something where reader and Lando broke up and a few days later reader gets into a accident and the hospital calls him because he's next of kin when they were dating and when he gets there he's freaked and the doctors surprises him by saying the baby's fine.

Bound by blood and fate

Summary: After a devastating breakup, Lando is pulled back into your life when an accident reveals not only your fragile state but also the existence of the baby he never knew you carried, forcing him to confront his love for you and his vow to protect his growing family

Genre: Mafia!Lando, angst, fluff

TW: Mafia, car accident, pregnancy

A/N: thank youuu for the request. I really love all of your ideas! I hope you like it! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The breakup had been ugly.

Ugly and inevitable, or so it seemed. The constant arguments, Lando’s late nights, the secrets he wouldn’t share—it all built up until the tension became unbearable. When you’d finally walked out of his penthouse a few nights ago, neither of you had looked back.

You told yourself it was for the best. You weren’t meant to live in Lando’s dangerous world.

He had tried to shield you from it, tried to convince you that his darker dealings wouldn’t touch your life. But the cracks in his promises had widened over time, and you couldn’t ignore the risks anymore.

The days since then had passed in a blur of loneliness and regret.

Each moment away from him felt like a weight pressing down on your chest, but you reminded yourself why you’d left.

You couldn’t stay in the shadow of his empire.

You couldn’t live in fear.

But even as you repeated those words to yourself like a mantra, there was something you hadn’t told him. Something that made your stomach churn with every passing hour.

You were pregnant.

You’d found out two days before the breakup. The test had been positive, and your mind had spiraled in every direction—joy, fear, uncertainty. You’d planned to tell him that night, but the fight had derailed everything.

And now? Now it was too late. Lando was gone.

The accident happened on the fourth day after the breakup.

It was raining hard as you drove down the winding roads outside the city. The windshield wipers struggled to keep up, and visibility was poor. You had been heading to your doctor’s appointment, determined to make sense of your next steps alone.

But fate had other plans.

Your car skidded on the slick pavement as you rounded a corner, the tires losing traction. You tried to correct the steering, but it was too late. The vehicle spun out of control, slamming into a guardrail before flipping over and landing in a ditch.

The world went black.

When Lando’s phone rang, he almost didn’t answer it. He had been drowning in his own misery since you’d left, throwing himself into work to avoid thinking about you.

But something about the unknown number on the screen made him pause.

“Hello?” His voice was sharp, impatient.

“Is this Lando Norris?” a calm, clinical voice asked.

“Yes,” he said, his brow furrowing.

“This is St. James Hospital. You’ve been listed as the emergency contact for [Y/N]. She’s been in an accident.”

The blood drained from his face. “What? Is she—” His voice cracked. “Is she okay?”

“She’s stable, but she’s in critical care,” the doctor replied. “We need you to come in as soon as possible.”

He didn’t think twice. Grabbing his keys, he was out the door in minutes, driving faster than he had in his entire life.

Lando burst into the hospital, his heart racing as he approached the front desk.

“[Y/N] [L/N],” he said, barely able to keep his voice steady. “I’m her emergency contact. Where is she?”

The nurse nodded, quickly directing him to the ICU. He didn’t even thank her, his focus solely on reaching you.

When he stepped into the room, the sight of you lying in the hospital bed made his chest tighten painfully.

You looked so small, so fragile, your face pale against the stark white sheets.

A doctor stood at your bedside, checking your vitals. He turned as Lando entered, offering a calm but serious expression.

“You’re Mr. Norris?” the doctor asked.

Lando nodded. “What happened? Is she going to be okay?”

“She suffered a concussion and a few broken ribs, but she’s stable,” the doctor explained. “We’ll need to monitor her closely for the next 24 hours, but she’s a fighter.”

Relief flooded through Lando, but it was short-lived as the doctor continued.

“And the baby is fine as well,” the doctor added.

Lando froze. “The… what?”

The doctor frowned slightly. “You didn’t know? She’s about 10 weeks pregnant. The impact was severe, but there’s no sign of harm to the baby. It’s a miracle, really.”

Lando’s world tilted on its axis. Pregnant? You were pregnant? His heart pounded as he looked at you, the realization sinking in like a punch to the gut.

He sat by your bedside for hours, his hands trembling as he held yours. Memories of your last fight replayed in his mind, and guilt twisted in his chest.

If he had known… If you had told him…

But it didn’t matter now.

All that mattered was that you were okay, that both of you were okay.

When you finally stirred, your eyes fluttering open, his breath hitched. He leaned forward, his face hovering inches from yours.

“Lando?” Your voice was weak, but the surprise in your tone was unmistakable.

“I’m here,” he said softly, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “I’m here, love.”

Tears welled in your eyes as the reality of your situation came rushing back. “The baby—”

“Is fine,” he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “You’re both fine. But why didn’t you tell me?”

Fresh tears spilled over as you looked away. “We were already falling apart. I didn’t think it would change anything.”

“Change anything?” Lando’s voice cracked with emotion. “Everything changes, [Y/N]. You and this baby—you’re my everything.”

You turned back to him, searching his eyes for the truth. “But your world, Lando… it’s dangerous. I didn’t want to bring a child into it.”

He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he considered your words. “You’re right. My world is dangerous. But I’ll protect you—both of you—with everything I have. I swear it.”

Your lip quivered, but before you could respond, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve lost too much already. I can’t lose you,” he whispered.

The days that followed were a blur of recovery and quiet conversations. Lando rarely left your side, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive.

He made calls, tightening security around your home and ensuring that anyone who even thought of causing trouble would think twice.

You saw a new side of him—a man willing to go to any lengths for the people he loved. And as much as you’d tried to deny it before, you realized that love had never stopped between the two of you.

It wasn’t going to be easy. There were still battles to fight, both within and outside of Lando’s world.

But as he sat beside you, his hand resting gently on your stomach, you knew one thing for certain:

You weren’t alone anymore.

Thank you for reading!

[nanaooyoo]

nct jisung oneshot

request for anon: you have a kid without your highschool boyfriend ever finding out. sorry this request took a long while my life has been so insane lately that I haven’t had time to do much of anything besides work. Anyways enjoy ✨

warnings/headsup: light swearing • teen pregnancy • tiny bit of angst • major fluff fest • 7.8k words • female reader • light proofread • jisung x reader kiss • melodrama • crisp autumn vibes • dad!jisung • D/N = daughters name • miscommunication • so much cheesiness

Moving On: Jisung x Reader pt. I/I

High school was a complicated time for Jisung. He was managing school, keeping up with friends, dealing with his overbearing family, and a slew of extracurriculars, all while making sure to pay attention to you; his girlfriend. Sometimes it all felt like too much, sometimes he felt like he should just quit. Nevertheless, you were always there to support him. You were constantly by his side and that’s what really mattered. Whether it was bringing him snacks in between classes, helping him study during free periods, waiting for him at the dance studio while he practiced, or just being a shoulder to lean on and a safe space to vent whenever he may have needed it you were there... Jisung couldn’t even express how grateful he was for having you around! Even with all his appreciation and love for you however, he still wasn’t aware of just how far you were expending yourself to keep him happy and healthy.

People often joked about just how close you two were, how you were like second mother to Jisung and his entire friend group, the way you were always ready and able to give them rides and take care of Jisung and all the people important to him. Jisung’s mother would have probably said the opposite. Though she was never overt about it you know she didn’t like you. She would scowl whenever Jisung left you two alone together and the smile she forced on her face whenever he brought you home was just about the fakest thing you’d ever seen. Jisung always tried his best to talk you up to his parents, but where his mother was stubborn and resentful, his father was uninterested and indifferent. He didn’t want to believe that the people that had raised him couldn’t see in you what he saw, it pained him to think about so he just didn’t. He was in complete denial most times about the relationship between your two families and the fact that you came from much lower economic means didn’t help your case. When he first pitched the idea of you being his girlfriend to his mom and dad that was the very first thing they pointed out in fact! That didn’t stop him however. He would just tell himself that they were overly protective and that you and his mom were actually quite similar. You two would have to get along at some point… at least he hoped you would…

Jisung almost never failed to point out your motherly instincts: to protect him from bad news, to make sure he excelled in everything he did, to simply keep his head afloat. Unfortunately, no one knew just how that instinct would eventually have to develop. For better or for worse that instinct might have just been the end of the life you were once so used to.

It was late spring when you started noticing a bizarre sense of dread in the air as the reality started to set in for everybody that lives were starting to shift and change, and relationships were experiencing a much different sort of ebb and flow. No wonder you felt a little sick, it was the dread in the air! Right?

Sometimes your period was late… but it was never this late... You had no idea what you were supposed to do in a moment like this! A wave of anxiety washed over you and your body as you began to feel queasy. You felt nauseous, and even a fair amount afraid. This might have been the absolute worst time in your life for something like this to happen! You were so close to wrapping up high school. Senior year was supposed to be the last year of you and your peers lives before becoming "real" adults. You were deciding which university to go to and what subjects to major in. You were getting ready to say goodbye to friends and unfortunately hadn’t yet had the sit down talk with your boyfriend about if he was comfortable going long distance or even staying together at all…

You loved Jisung, you really did, but you also loved the idea of a bit of freedom. You would never explicitly say that to him for fear of hurting him or just sounding like you wanted to complain, but you were tired. Tired of being so busy, tired of so many people depending on you, tired of always being referred to as Park Jisung’s girlfriend, tired of his family looking down on you and yours. You honestly thought that most people had forgotten your name at this point. You wanted something of your own, something to explore outside of and away from Jisung, however sweet he was. You thought that college might be time for a change! A chance to reinvent yourself apart from your high school boyfriend and the hovering hand of his mother. No matter how lovely and accomplished he was, you two couldn’t be together forever right? At least that’s what you told yourself. You thought of your parents, you thought of Jisung’s parents. You were sure that if the Park family didn’t already detest you they surely would now. You dreaded what two little lines on a flimsy piece of plastic might mean for all of that. His parents already thought of you as unsophisticated, a burden to Jisung’s future and this would not help your case. You knew you had to tell Jisung while he was still around but you just didn’t know how… but first you had to be sure what you were planning on telling him.

You sat on the cold porcelain of the toilet seat all alone but face still flushed with warmth from embarrassment. You got up and washed your hands and gave yourself a once over in the mirror. You barely recognized your own visage. The bags under your eyes had bags, and the dark circles looked more like new permanent attachments than temporary indications of sleepiness. You subconsciously prayed to whatever god was out there that your period was just late again this time. “It’s just two or three weeks” you told yourself looking back to your reflection in your bathroom mirror and plastering on your best cheery smile. It only lasted a moment but for a fragment of a fragment of a second you were almost smiling genuinely no matter the result.

You went and did a quick lap around your house to release as much pent up stressful energy as possible but also to make sure your parents really were out of the house. You peeked out through the living room curtains one last time just making sure that there were no cars other than your own parked in the driveway. You ran back up the stairs as soon as you heard the faint ringing of the alarm you had set on your phone. You couldn’t stop the trembling of your hands as you picked up the little pink and white pregnancy test you had set on the edge of the counter. You sucked in a deep breath, inhaling sharply through your nose as the sheer terror and excitement of what you were looking at created a blockade in your throat. You felt a tingling sensation all over, unable to properly breathe, only sucking in air for another few seconds before finally letting out your first breath in what felt like several minutes.

Although, it wasn’t just any regular breath, it was a laugh. Well less of a laugh and more or a low groan that slowly turned into a chortle. You practically keeled over as you fell to the ground on your hands and knees, stomach and back heaving as sloppy tears fell down on the sides of your face and almost splashed back into your eyes with the velocity at which they hit the tiled floor. You didn’t know what your reaction would be once you looked at the test but you definitely did not expect this! You were so afraid before, so worried, so adamant that you wanted, needed it to be negative! Now here you were staring at the two thin lines on the near microscopic test screen indicating a positive result and all you could think of was how you hope’d it’d be a girl.

𖦹

“So I have good news and I have bad news” you whispered to Jisung as you two sat in the back of the school library “do you want to hear the good news or the bad news first”?

“Uhm I don’t know… I guess the bad news” he said.

You screamed internally, wondering why he just had to choose the bad option first. Jisung rifled through several books struggling to pick one for a final paper, paying you little mind as he laced his fingers through yours absentmindedly and dragged you down each aisle of bookshelves behind him.

It had been about a day or two since you had taken the test and you had even talked it over with your parents. They were understandably uneasy at first when you said you planned on keeping the child but you assured them that you would absolutely keep working on your studies. You told them you would talk to Jisung yourself and figure out the rest from there, and all your parents could do was support you and whatever decisions you made, the best they possibly could. They could see the stress in your eyes as you mentioned next steps. Though your parents supported your relationship they weren’t too fond of Jisung’s family either. The pretentious nature and lack of grace when talking about their son’s girlfriend, your parent’s daughter, it made them upset to say the least. The thought of having to join your two families was the last thing they wanted to think about right now. You explained to them in detail exactly how you wanted to move forward with your life and what you planned on telling your boyfriend in the process. “Just let him down easy” your mother said, knowing how difficult of a conversation this would be, especially to have so young “don’t tell his mom… tell him.” Your mother’s voice was emotional and awkward and your dad gave you a half hearted smile and stiff hug. Their words rang in your head as you looked up at Jisung.

“Are you sure you want to hear the bad news first?” You asked, hoping that if you told him the good news was that you were pregnant, he would already be on board to end the relationship and you wouldn’t have to say what you had to say next and his mom would never have to be proven right about how messy she thought you were.

“No I want to hear the bad stuff first and just get it over with” he said reaching over you with ease to grab a book off the highest shelf. “Hey do you think this would work?” He clicked his tongue paging through whatever novel he had picked up this time.

You sighed… “okay but it’s really important so I need you to really listen!”

Jisung continued checking out books and only really half listening to you. “Of course” he said as he carried on skimming all the literature around him.

“Jisung I’m serious! I didn’t want to do this here but this is the first time we’ve been alone together all week!”

“Totally…” he responded

“Jisung look at me!”

“I am looking at you…” (he wasn’t). He kissed your hand tenderly, muttering the words on the page he was looking at to himself.

“Jisung!”

“What babe?”

His nonchalance angered you. Couldn’t he tell how upsetting this was for you? “Jisung I want to break up!” You swore you could hear a pin drop on the complete opposite side of the library. You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest in the time it took for Jisung to fully absorb what you had said. Those few seconds felt like an eternity, but once they were over you already wanted to go back to before you had said anything.

“You’re joking…” he said, actively scoffing in your face.

What ensued was potentially the first and only ever argument between you and your then, now ex boyfriend. All you really remembered was how he kept asking "why". You told him all the little reasons, how you wanted space, how you couldn’t do long distance, how your families would never get along, but you omitted the most important reason... Sure those other things were true but you also just couldn’t see yourself raising a child with the first guy you had ever slept with, and Jisung had so much going for him, you knew there was no way a dance career could have him stationed in one place long enough to focus on a new family. His mother would never let him have a kid with you, you just knew it! She would think you were trapping him, his father would question you incessantly, and Jisung would eventually have to choose between his prospective future or yours. So you decided to choose for him.

“So we’re just over then” his voice was hoarse and defeated “you don’t want to see me again”…

All you could do was nod “this one should work well, it fits all the criteria for the paper”. You said, handing Jisung a hefty book of the shelf, helping him for seemingly the last time…

You couldn’t completely avoid Jisung the last few weeks of school. You both had sort of silently agreed to keep as much distance as possible, only speaking to each other when absolutely necessary. When people asked why you two had broken up you both had slightly different answers but they both went along the lines of “growing apart.” It really hurt to think about, especially all that was left unsaid but you simply had to trudge forward. The last time you saw Jisung was at graduation where you each exchanged a friendly yet faintly sour handshake and wished each other good luck. You watched the smug smile on his mother’s face as you two parted ways and the way she turned up her nose when your dad foolishly went in for a cordial handshake.

You sort of regretted not telling him about your ‘situation’ but you also felt like it was for the best! You thought you might never see him again and once your daughter D/N was born nothing else mattered. You put off school for a bit, moved to a new town and got very used to living alone with just you and your little girl. You put all your best skills to use once you had entered university. All your experience planning, keeping others organized, staying on task, and being a mother really lended itself to your field and your incredible business acumen was undeniable. You worked hard to make sure that you and your daughter could live in the best house, afford the nicest dinners, get the very best babysitters, and whatever else would make the little one’s life easier.

Obviously you still thought about him. Every time you looked at your child’s face you saw him. Every laugh, every cough and sneeze, every silly statement, every whine just reminded you of him. She never asked about her father but you wondered if she would eventually start. You sort of did want her to meet Jisung but your life had changed so much since, you wondered if after all these years if he would even care. You weren’t immune to looking him up every now and then or asking your parents if they had heard any news about him or his family. You suspected he would be angry or hurt if he found out, and he had every right to be. Despite that though, you still just wanted to see him again, even if it was just to yell at you for lying or cuss you out, even for just a brief moment you wanted to see him…

𖦹

“There’s no way… there’s no way…” Jisung muttered to himself slowly bringing his shopping cart to a halt and planting his feet firmly in the middle of the aisle. People gave him dirty looks and confused stares. He stood there, oblivious, only focused on a woman about his age, a woman he’d recognize anywhere even from a hundred feet away, a woman who nearly shattered his heart into a million pieces and broke up with him before moving across the country and becoming the most successful person from their high school by a mile. It couldn’t be, or rather it shouldn’t be!

What were you doing back in your home town? He wondered. The last he had heard you graduated college with about a million academic achievements under your belt, and were making more money than he could ever dream of at some big conglomerate. Though there you were, same put together appearance, same pretty face, same sweet voice, bending over to talk to a little girl who looked just like you. He did a double take, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses just to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing. He squinted and blinked and did just about everything he could to clear his vision but nothing changed. All he saw was you.

He felt like he had to say something… if he didn’t he thought he might go insane. What kind of guy would he be to just ignore your presence. Sure you two hadn’t ended things on the best note but that was years ago, and you were just kids at the time! Maybe you’d forgiven him at this point. At one point Jisung wasn’t sure if all the resentment he once held for you was gone but seeing you in person just confirmed that it was. There was no reason to be mad anymore. He really missed you. He just wanted to talk to you again…

Was it really you standing there? The child didn’t look that old but was she really yours? Had you moved on so quickly after leaving town, after leaving him? Who were you with now? His head was spinning like a freshly oiled revolving door and full to the brim flooded with questions.

Jisung felt like his stomach did a 360 degree flip as he tepidly approached you. “Y/N” he stated more than asked hoping but already knowing it was you. Though, in case he was wrong he braced himself for a much more awkward encounter.

You almost dropped the can of food you were holding blinking rapidly and registering the person before you. “Jisung?” You said, giving him a once over. He was somehow even taller now with jet black hair and dark thick rimmed glasses slightly covering his tired brown eyes. He was as cute as ever. There he stood looking pretty much the same as he did when you left, but boy was he handsome!

“Jisung what’re you doing here?” You asked out of impulse, already knowing the answer. You acted like you hadn’t heard he was in town from your mother who ran into his folks a couple weeks ago, who proceeded to unabashedly brag about their son to her. Of course you then immediately went and stalked him on social media.

“I- I came back recently for a family reunion…” his face was a bit strained as he said it and then he trailed off, noticing the little girl who shyly held your hand once more. Up close she looked ever more like you, down to the way she looked him up and down and examined him with curious eyes. She stared without a shred of recognition on her face or in her eyes but still refused to break eye contact with the strange adult towering over her. He also couldn’t help but notice the way her cheeks rounded out the same way his did as a child and how her face transitioned into the same confused expression he made, mirroring him perfectly.

“What are you doing here?” He said trying his best to look at you and to not stare back at the little girl clinging to your side examining him like a foreign creature trapped behind bars at the zoo.

“I’m visiting my parents” you said clearing your throat a bit “with my daughter.” You raised her little hand trying to make her wave.

“How old is she?” He asked, mentally doing the math of just how long ago you two broke up.

“She’s five…” you said bashfully. You tried to run every possible scenario in your head about what the best course of action would be in this moment. Was it selfish to just keep the information to yourself, or was it better to just tell him now. Maybe the grocery store wasn’t the best place to let Jisung know that you’ve sort of been hiding a secret daughter from him for the past five years, but also the longer you hid it from him the worse you felt. You had to tell him, it really felt like now or never. You had kept her from him for so long it just felt cruel at this point. Plus, even though your daughter was young the way she eyed Jisung up and down made you feel paranoid enough that she had already figured it out herself. Maybe Jisung already knew too, maybe he wanted nothing to do with you or more importantly with her, but you still had to tell him. The words had to come out of your own mouth whether you wanted to speak them or not! You had to make up for the immature decision you made at that time. It was like you were in that library all over again...

“Hey do you want to meet up- I mean we should probably talk, it’s been a long time”. You fumbled over your words not sure exactly what to say.

Jisung perked up “I’m free tomorrow. If you wanna grab coffee!” He was happy you took the initiative to invite him out because god knows he didn’t have the courage to do it himself.

“That sounds... nice!” you said as the little girl tugged on your arm mumbling something about wanting to watch some tv show at grandma and grandpa’s.

“I assume your number’s still the same.” He said remembering all the times he meant to text you but stopped himself out of fear.

“Yeah it is.” You said. You felt the same giddy feeling you got on the first day of high school when a cute boy in your homeroom asked for your number for “study purposes.” There was that cute boy once again standing in front of you giving you the same smile he gave you when you first met. A smile you hadn’t seen in years, but healed a hurt you didn’t know you had inside instantly.

You had to chew on your cheeks to hide your smile as you drove home. You could see your daughter in the rear view mirror drumming her little fingers on the arm rest of her car seat along to the music on the radio. You would peek at her every once in a while and try to gauge her focus. What was she thinking about? Was she afraid of him? Was she curious about him? Did she even care?

You cleared your throat only half getting her attention as she sang along to the words of whatever song was playing, mostly making up her own lyrics and swaying in her seat. “So what did you think of mommy’s friend?” You asked.

She didn’t respond for a bit or even give you any indication that she heard you. She was silent for a few minutes before speaking. “He’s nice… but… too tall…” she said.

“You might be tall like that one day” you chuckled “would you ever want to meet him again?” You wanted to at least have an idea of what to tell Jisung when you saw him next. In your mind, your daughter’s opinion (though still young and uninformed) mattered the most. If she wanted nothing to do with him at this time it didn’t matter what Jisung’s response was. All that mattered was her and what her needs were.

“Is he good at playing games?” She added out of the blue.

“What?”

“Mommy’s friend... Is he good at playing games?”

“Uhm, I guess so? From what I remember he was always fun. I’m sure he’d be good at playing games.” You smiled at her through the rear view mirror a little “Why D/N? Did you want to play a game with him?”

Your daughter just looked out the window and nodded her head, soon after getting distracted. “When are we getting home? I wanna watch my show.” She huffed and grumbled almost like an adult. Almost like Jisung.

“Soon.” You said.

As you pulled into the driveway and walked into your parent’s house, your daughter was practically vibrating with energy. She practically dove out of the car as you unbuckled her seatbelt, running into the home as your mother opened the door and greeted her with a big hug.

“How was the store?” Your mother asked as she ushered your little one down the hall to go bother your father in the living room.

“It was alright… I ran into Jisung…” you walked over to the kitchen and placed a few shopping bags on the counter.

Your mother looked surprised “both of you?”

You sighed “both of us.”

“What did he say?”

“He asked to grab coffee, he actually seemed happy to see me!”

“Were you happy to see him?” Your mother asked.

“Of course I was! It was awkward but I have to tell him sooner or later. Whether he wants to be in her life or not I have to tell him.”

“-and you think the best way to do that is over coffee?”

“No!” You said. “But I might not have another chance.”

Your mother looked at you with this awkward guilty expression on her face. She started to unpack the groceries biting her lip and looking everywhere but into your eyes.

“What? Do you really think it’s that bad of an idea?”… there was silence as she opened the fridge and began to rearrange some condiments, suspiciously shaking her head as if to neither completely agree or disagree. “You think I should keep it from him? Mom it's been long enough, it would just be wrong to not tell him. D/N wants to meet him! Why are you being so weird about this? Aren’t you the one who told me I should tell him the next time I see him?”

“What if he already knows?” Your mother blurted out.

“So what if he already knows…” you furrowed your eyebrows “wait… what do you mean?”

“Nothing” your mother said.

You knew that was bullshit. “Did you tell him?” You asked in a frustrated tone. “You told him didn’t you—”

Your mother looked at you and then went back to avoiding your fiery gaze. She was never good at keeping secrets but you thought something of this magnitude would be able to stay hidden. She promised to let you tell him on your own terms, so why had she betrayed you?

It took her a while to fess up but eventually she did, sort of… “I didn’t tell him directly, it just sort of slipped out… I— I just had to say something she was so… ugh!” Your mother groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You asked and took a deep breath. Your mother swallowed harshly and looked down at the floor. “I promise to hear you out, I just want to know what I’m getting into mom.”

“It was around last month… Your dad has been golfing so much lately, so he got us a membership to the country club with the money you gave him for his birthday. I don’t personally use it much but he loves it down there, and I like to use the pool, and the tennis court is nice, and every once in a while I like to just sit in one of the dining rooms with a glass of wine, and…”

You sucked in your cheek as your mom rambled knowing that she couldn’t avoid the point forever. “Yeah exactly.” You said dryly.

Your mother gulped once more “To make a long story just a bit shorter… The Park family also goes there and I ran into Jisung’s mother, and she was just bragging about him nonstop and she hinted that he was better off without you and I just remembered how much you loved that boy! She was talking about some date he went on and how great this girl was. Greater than my daughter? I doubt it! She thought her son could do no wrong! That he was so perfect and you were so not… I just couldn’t help but tell her that whether she liked it or not you two would always be connected! I- I looked at her and I said ‘ya know you may want to let your son know that you already have a granddaughter and she’s not related to that rich heiress you want him with so bad!’ That’s what I said to her for looking down on us all these years… I told her about how my daughter and my daughter’s daughter were just about the most wonderful thing in this world and she had no right to talk about you or even her own son that way.”

“You really said all that stuff?”

“Yes…” Your mother replied hesitantly.

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes and a swell of emotion inside you. You put a hand over your mouth to stop the audible sobbing that threatened to leave your mouth. You could tell just how long your mother had been holding in those words. She was always so non confrontational but the fact that she said all that warmed your heart. You were angry at first but in this moment you realized that it didn’t matter what Mrs. Park or even your ex boyfriend thought of you. You had some choice words for Jisung’s parents as well but you knew it would create more trouble to let them out. All that mattered was that your mother loved you guys enough to be proud of you. You always felt a bit embarrassed when having to explain to others that you weren’t the babysitter you were just a teen mom, but your own mother didn’t even care. She loved you all the same and made sure that no one would let you feel ashamed of yourself. “I should’ve known you couldn’t keep a secret anyways.” You said choking up a bit. You gave your mother the biggest hug you had probably ever given in your entire life, and she hugged you right back!

“You aren’t angry?” She asked.

“Oh I’m furious” you said “but not at you. I have no idea what I did to make that woman hate me so much but I’m glad you stood up to her!”

Your mother sighed. “I know you wanted to do it on your own terms but I feel like she might’ve already told him… I just don’t know for sure.”

“It’s alright.” You said. You and your mother finished unloading the groceries, tearfully laughing at how strange the whole encounter must have been. The thought of your soft-spoken mother raising her voice at a stern and snarky lady filled you with joy. Just imagining the shocked look on Jisung’s mom’s face was enough to keep a slight smile on yours for the rest of the day.

Later that night, after putting D/N to bed, you sat on the couch with your parents commiserating about all the awful experiences you had with the Park family over the years. It had been pent up for so long that all of you took the opportunity to air out even the smallest of grievances.

“I don’t know how such a sweet kid could be related to such obnoxious people” your father said as a small ping emanated from your phone.

You couldn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach as you saw the first text from Jisung in half a decade appear before you.

“Wanna grab that coffee around noon tmrw?” It said.

You considered being coy and waiting a few more minutes to reply but your fingers worked faster than your brain. Before you knew it a “sure!” was sent in response.

Then there was one more ping. One more text. It was small. It was innocuous. It could have meant nothing. But to you, it meant everything. It was one small red heart, one little emoticon that hinted to you that he still might feel the same…

𖦹

The next morning was an early one for you. You spent hours perfecting the exact right image that would make you look good enough to go on what was essentially a date, but not so good that Jisung would immediately clock that you two were on a date. Sure meeting up with an old fling to talk about a secret child over coffee wasn’t the most romantic premise, but you couldn’t help but want to put your best foot forward when it came to him. It was almost shameful to admit internally how much you felt for him, but it was the honest truth. You still loved him.

The ding of the coffee shop door seemed to ring out like a chorus of hollow bell chimes in your ears as your head began spinning. Jisung was sitting at table to the far end of the cafe. You could see the rays of somber light peeking in through the window, diffused by the dusty oranges, reds, and browns of the fall leaves. Jisung fidgeted in his chair looking down at the table, and then his watch, then his phone, and back to the table. Two brown paper cups stood tall on the table in front of him, steam rising from them and collecting on the lenses of his glasses. He cracked his knuckles and gnawed at his fingernails nervously until finally catching a glimpse of you walking towards him. “Y/N” he exclaimed, clumsily getting to his feet and lightly tripping over a leg of his chair.

You tried your best to hold back laughter as he bumbled around, rushing to pull out a chair for you. You smiled and thanked him as you sat down. The rich pungent smell of freshly ground coffee beans and sweet steamed milk filled your nostrils and Jisung gently pushed one cup over to you.

“I assumed you still drank the same coffee. If that’s okay.” He cleared his throat hesitantly.

You could just about burst into tears at this very moment. After all these years he still remembered your coffee order. He was only missing one thing...

“Wait just a second…” he fumbled through his pockets for a moment and pulled out two small packets of sweetener. “I know you like to stir in your own sugar” he said.

Now it was perfect!

“Did you sleep okay?” He asked.

Jisung’s consideration for others, you in particular was always so evident. It’s like he couldn’t stop himself from making the kind of small talk that involved checking in on people. “I did.” You replied.

The two of you spent some time just sitting and catching up. You talked about school, work, old friends, tv shows, and just about everything you two would have talked about and experienced together had you been in contact for the past five and a half years. You didn’t really realize when, but the both of you had slowly transitioned to taking your coffee shop 'date' outside of the coffee shop and made your way to the park across the street. The air was cool and refreshing and Jisung couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud but the way you were bundled up with your scarf, gloved hands clutching your coffee like it might run away from you if you let it go was adorable. He also took not of how your coats subtly matched. Yours a light brown, and his a deep tan color made you two look complimentary, almost like a couple… almost.

“Did your daughter make it in time to watch her show?” He asked out of the blue.

You chuckled “You remembered that? She did actually. She even talked about you a bit after… before she went to bed she asked if I was meeting up with you soon.”

“No way!” He said and bumped your shoulder lightly with his coffee cup.

“Really I mean it! She’s so interested in what I do. She always asks about my friends.”

“Are we still friends?”

Your eyes went wide, your hands tensed up and a chill ran down your spine. “I mean- We were good friends at one point!” You choked on your words not knowing what to say.

“We were more than just good friends Y/N” he said.

“I know…”

Jisung bit his lip and you both looked at each other sheepishly, you caught his gaze and he caught yours before you both broke out into a fit of laughter. You two as a pair had a way of bringing out a silliness within yourselves that had you cackling like hyenas together but looking like absolute madmen to any onlookers passing by.

Your walk in the park was peaceful and comforting. So comforting in fact that you had almost forgotten why you wanted to meet up with him in the first place.

𖦹

“So what was the good news?” He said, taking a sip of his drink.

“What?”

“The good news! Remember before we broke up you said there was good news and bad news… the bad news was the break up and the good news was…” he giggled awkwardly “well I never got to find out”.

Why now of all times did he have to bring that up? What could you even say? You couldn’t run, you couldn’t hunker down somewhere and hide. You had to talk to him. It was now or never.

“Yeah about that… the good news was mostly good news for me”. You were internally facepalming at your high school self’s method of delivery when it came to something so important. ‘Good news and bad news’, how idiotic could you have been.

“That’s okay, I still want to know-” Jisung gently placed your hand in his, picking it up to wrap your fingers within his warm grasp. He knew it might be wrong but he really didn’t want to ask about your relationship status right now. “I was obsessed with everything you did back then, that part of me still really wants to know… Like would it have changed anything? I know that sounds stupid but it’s true…”

You couldn’t help but melt a little being in his hold once again. It lulled you in a way that made you forget the gravity of what you were about to abruptly spit out. “The good news was D/N”! You felt a lump form in your throat and you were jolted back a bit as Jisung stood there frozen in the midst of the cobblestone path. You immediately went into panic mode. Why wasn’t he saying anything? “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, it just felt like the right thing to do at the time and my parents pretty much told me to do whatever I thought was best! I didn’t want to push something so big on you right before graduation” You rambled on and on watching as Jisung seemed to only take in bits and pieces of what you were saying. Still you weren’t sure if he was buying your excuses or if they were going in one ear and out the other. He continued to just stand there stiff as a board tightening his hand around yours as you tried to usher him to a bench to sit down. It took a few minutes, but eventually you two found a quieter more private area of the park to talk it out. Jisung mostly sat and listened to you explain your reasoning for keeping D/N a secret from him for so long but he also acknowledged how this wasn’t information he would have wanted to receive any other way than in person and face to face.

He had always wanted to hear something like this from you but he always imagined it was going to be far in the future after you guys got married. Jisung’s thumb lightly caressed your knuckles and you thought your fingers might go numb from the prolonged hand holding. He looked down at your hand and as quiet as a mouse he laughed.

He laughed… Right there on the bench as the cool breeze swept his hair out of his eyes, he laughed. He slowly met your worried gaze, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes just as they did in yours. “Of course you went on to have the perfect life and be the perfect mother all without me.”

His words caught you off guard “Perfect? I’m like a mess ninety percent of the time, I just keep it together in front of my daughter.” You sniffled a bit “I did- I mean I still do want you to be in her life, it would be good for her…”

“Just for her” he asked playfully, tears still welling in his eyes.

“...and for me…” you looked down at the ground.

“Would your boyfriend be okay with that?”

“Boyfriend?” You felt the embarrassment return to you. “I haven’t dated anyone since you and I-” you could barely finish your sentence before Jisung’s lips were crashing into yours. His hot breath made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. His eyelashes gingerly brushed against your cheeks as he caught his breath. Exhaling through his nose he went back for more. Maybe it was because it had been so long, maybe it was because he was older and more experienced, but Jisung had never kissed you like this before. There was quiet desperation in the way your lips melded together as if he was asking you, begging you to be his again.

“Me neither” he said breathlessly finally letting you come up for air.

“I thought you had a girlfriend?”

“No way, I haven’t gone on a real date since I started college…”

“But your mother said-“

“My mother has been trying to set me up with some girl whose parents own a couple buildings downtown for ages now.” Jisung cupped your cheek affectionately. “She seems nice and all but it’s hard to go out with anyone else when all I do is think about you!”

“I think about you too.” You treasured the way such simple touches and matter of fact words could flip your worlds upside down. “I wish I had told you sooner… I really wish I told you so much earlier…” You really couldn’t stop the tears from flowing now. You imagined just how crazy you looked crying on a public bench. “One second” you said reaching into your purse and pulling out a few tissues and some baby wipes. You lightly dabbed at the corners of Jisung’s eyes.

He reached over to you and used his thumbs to wipes your face simultaneously. “You’re such a mom.” He joked.

“I don’t understand how you aren’t mad at me right now?” you said.

Maybe he should have been, you wouldn’t have held it against him if he was. “Being with you is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. If that makes me crazy then so what. I’m crazy about you.”

It was hard to hide the shock on your face, you couldn’t believe he had just outright confessed his feelings to you before you even had time to process that wonderfully unexpected kiss.

“Anyways, it’s a relief that D/N is mine. If you had a kid with some other guy I don’t know what I’d do…” he planted another small kiss on your forehead.

“I think your parents would have been elated…” you trailed off.

“Who cares what my parents think! We’re not in highschool anymore!”

You couldn’t help but smile.

“I always knew we were meant to be family, it doesn’t matter how long it took. Just never keep a secret like that from me again” he laughed.

“I promise it’s all honesty from now on” you replied as Jisung pulled you into a warm embrace. He brought your body closer to his, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you two took in the autumn scenery.

𖦹

It took a few weeks of coordinating but Jisung had finally come up to visit you in your home in the city. D/N was probably more excited than you. Your last couple days back at your parent's were spent watching Jisung play with your (now his) daughter in your parents living room. He seemed to have lived up to all her expectations and she had gotten over her qualms with his height one she realized how high up she could sit when on his shoulders.

You still hadn’t told her he was her father. You and Jisung agreed to wait to tell her until you two were more established. Sure you had dated before but this was now a whole new relationship. Your daughter practically leaped from her spot on the couch once she heard the doorbell ring and her dad’s signature tepid knock on the door.

You opened the door to see your boyfriend’s smiling face as he reached down to pick up D/N as she peppered him with questions. “Hey you!” He said nuzzling her nose and leaning over to give you a kiss as your daughter winced in disgust. He lugged in a large rolling suitcase with his one free hand as you ushered him through the front entrance.

“That’s all you brought?” You asked.

Jisung nodded “yeah for now… I was so eager to get over here that I only packed the essentials, I didn’t want to overwhelm you with all my stuff at once.”

“Please Jisung you’re getting ready to move in. You’re going to overwhelm me anyways” you teased.

“I’ll get the rest later! Right now I just want to hang out with you guys!” He put your daughter down and ruffled her hair. “So are you going to give me a tour?” He said leaning down to talk to her at eye level.

She just wordlessly dragged his wrist along to show him all her favorite spots in the house as you trailed along.

Much to the behest of his mother Jisung planned on having many more days like this and little did you know that the ring burning a hole in his coat pocket back in your hometown was the thing he was most excited to bring back in the next suitcase...

[bqstqnbruin]

Friendsgiving

Hi so we are going to ignore the fact that it is nearly 2 am but here I am with a fic that I started today because of this tik tok that I saw a few hours ago and I immediately went 'fic'. So, here we are

Warnings: none

WC: 5845

Enjoy!

__________________________________________

“Why and how are you in Vancouver?” 

“Don’t hate me.”

“Oh, my god, did you move to Canada without me? You moved and didn’t even tell me.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at what you hoped was Lena’s unnecessary panic that you heard through your phone speaker, trying to navigate your way through the airport that you had never been to before. “No, I’m just probably doing something stupid.” 

“And you’re doing it without me?”

“Leen, I’ll catch you up later, ok?”

“Am I going to have to make sure you don’t end up in a ditch?”

“You should probably watch my location for the next few days,” you say, in all seriousness. “But I have to go, I love you, bye.”

You hang up on your best friend as you hear her screaming on the other end about calling the authorities, knowing that she wouldn’t actually do that. Actually, she might. But you can’t think about that right now.

You were trying to find Brock, despite the fact that you had never met him in person and stupidly agreed to fly to Vancouver on a day's notice from your home the week of Thanksgiving. 

You couldn’t believe the last couple of days of your life. You had posted a silly photo of you and your friends at your annual Friendsgiving. You always got together the Friday before, and had been doing so since middle school when your parents still had to either make the food for you, or had to be in the kitchen with you heavily supervising the entire time. This year was the 15th year in a row that you had all gotten together, celebrating in a much bigger fashion than you had in years past; you all dressed up, you all brought the food in the best serving dishes you had instead of the Dollar Tree tin dishes you all normally brought, you had the fanciest bottles of wine you could afford littering the table, and you had even all planned to stay over together for the first time, continuing the event into the morning. 

Brock had messaged you because of the photo. You were mutuals, having some of the same friends in college but never actually interacted with each other. 

All of your friends talked about how you two would get along so well, but it seemed like every time you were supposed to meet, something happened that prevented you from doing so. There was the one party you were supposed to go to with your friends, that you had been planning on going to all week until you got food poisoning from the dining hall. There was the class you were supposed to take together until his practice times got changed and ended up conflicting with the class. You were supposed to go to a formal together as each other's dates until he slept through his alarm and missed the bus to the venue.

You were always supposed to meet, until you didn’t.

But then you got the message from him a few days ago asking if you wanted to come to his Friendsgiving that he was going to with his American teammates. 

It was easily the craziest thing you had done in your life, saying yes to flying out to Vancouver the next day to meet a guy you had never actually met in person, or really talked to before those messages.

It made you realize you really hadn’t done much with your life. 

You walked through the airport, trying to see if you could find the guy you would be spending the next couple of days with by the baggage claim where he told you he would meet you. 

You finally see him, the blonde head of hair sticking out to you for an unknown reason. 

You knew from his pictures on his account that he was attractive, but, shit, he was gorgeous in person. 

He was also dressed up way more than he should be for someone to be waiting for a stranger in an airport; he was in a full suit and tie, his hair looking like he had just gotten out of the shower and styled it immediately. 

“Hi,” he says to you when he sees you, a smile on his face making your heart skip a beat. 

You didn’t even know this guy. “Hi,” you manage to get out as he pulls you in for a hug. “You look good, all dressed up.” 

Brock reaches for your bag, taking it off your shoulder and walking you out of the airport. “Thanks.”

“Why are you dressed up?”

“We’re on our way to the game.”

“We?”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“Do I look like I’m dressed for a hockey game?”

Brock looks at you as the two of you approach his car, opening his trunk to put your bag in. “You look great to me.”

“I’m in sweats, fresh off a plane. When do you think you told me?”

“Uh,” he lets out as you get in his car. “Yesterday?”

You take out your phone, scrolling through the messages the two of you exchanged. “You told me you had a game, not that I was going to one.” 

“Who did I tell that to yesterday?” he says, staring out through his front windshield, wracking his brain. You couldn’t help but laugh. “I can take you back to my place, if you want.”

“Would that make you late for the game?”

He glances at the clock, pulling out his phone. “Very late, yes.” 

You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile that you couldn’t help. “I’ll go to the game. I’m sure I have something I can change into stuffed in my bag.” 

The two of you fall into easy conversation, much like you had when he first reached out to you. There was something about him that was easy to talk to. 

He pulls up to the arena, still talking about one of the parties you were both supposed to go to in college.

“Do you remember that one kid, Chris, who somehow threw up at every party he went to?” he asks you, leaning against his car as you rifle through your bag in his trunk, searching for any semblance of an outfit that was better than the sweats you were currently in.  

“Hold on,” you tell him, climbing into the trunk and pulling the hatch closed, trying your best to change in the cramped space. You managed to find jeans and a black shirt that could pass as a non-airport outfit that you were smart enough to pack as a spare since Brock didn’t really give you a ton of information as to how the week was going to go. You could see him standing outside the car, dumbfounded by the abrupt nature of you practically commandeering his car as a changing room for yourself. “Ok, I’m good,” you say, opening the door back up in what you were sure was record time for changing in a car trunk.

“Wow,” he says, you noticing the slightest shade of red appearing on his cheeks. 

“Better?” you ask. Your foot catches on part of the trunk as you try to get out, practically falling out of his car. 

You feel Brock’s hands catch you, spreading across your back and under your legs. “Much,” he says, his face inches from yours. He clears his throat, his face turning bright red as he puts you down.

He wasn’t about to kiss you, was he? And why would you have been ok if he did that? “Thanks for that,” you tell him, embarrassment seeping into your voice. 

“So, uh, Chris?” he asks, walking you into the arena with his hands now firming shoved into his pockets.

“He really did somehow end up in the bathroom at every party.”

“Even if he didn’t have anything to drink that night.” 

“I wonder what he’s up to now?”

“He just got engaged, actually,” you tell him. “His fiance was one of my lab partners back in college.” 

“Wow. Never would have known that,” he tells you. The two of you walk through what you could only describe as the tunnels of the arena, Brock showing you around and trying to explain to you what everything was. 

“You’re gonna be in here,” he tells you, showing to a room that was filled with women and children who all seemed to know each other. Before you can ask anything, he checks his watch, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. “Shit, I’ve gotta get ready. I’ll meet you right here after the game.” 

Brock runs off, leaving you standing at the entrance to this room that you could see was at ice level, filled with people you didn’t know. 

You couldn’t enter the room. This was already ridiculous, you being here in the first place with a guy you just met for the first time in person less than an hour before. Now you were apparently supposed to go into this room with a bunch of people and do what? Talk to them? 

No thank you.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, leaning against the wall next to the entrance of this room as Lena calls you again. “Ok, you did not fly all the way to Vancouver to see a Canucks game.”

“I’m going to stop sharing my location with you,” you laugh.

“Ok, spill, why the hell are you in Vancouver?”

You recount the whole string of events to her, realizing how ridiculous the whole situation sounded now that you were actually verbally articulating everything. “And now, I’m outside of this room with a bunch of women and I think this is where I’m supposed to be for the rest of the game.”

“Are you in the WAG room?”

“The what?”

“The WAG room.”

“No, I heard you,” you sigh, “What does that mean?”

“The wives and girlfriends.”

You stare at the wall on the other side of the hallway as people you ignored scurried around you. “But I’m not a wife or a girlfriend?”

“Well, as long as you have that established. I heard there’s supposed to be amazing food in those rooms for the families.” 

You peek your head into the room, seeing a line of the women forming on the other side of the room in front of what looked like an incredible spread of food. “I can see that.”

“Go in!” Lena shrieks in your ear. “Have fun, make friends, and bring me some food when you get back.” She hangs up before you can say anything else, leaving you there with your phone pressed against your ear and no one on the other end of the call. 

You finally work up the courage to go into the room, trying to slip in and stay in the back, out of the way of anyone who would feel the need to come to talk to you. You stay along the wall closest to the door, trying to take in the room around you. There were children seemingly everywhere, running and shrieking as they played with each other. Toys were scattered all over the floor, bags lined against the wall. You probably looked like a freak the way you were moving through the room, trying to find a seat that you could sink into and become invisible in.

“Shit,” you let out, slamming down onto the floor, tripping over one of the toys you were somehow too busy to notice. 

“Are you ok?” one of the women asks you, crouching down on the floor to meet you at what was now, embarrassingly, eye level. 

You could feel your face getting hot. “Other than my ego being bruised, I think I’m good.” 

“I haven’t seen you before,” she says to you. “I’m Lexie. I’m Thatcher’s wife.”

You had no idea who Thatcher was, but it probably wouldn’t look good for you if you admitted that. 

You introduce yourself, finally getting up off the floor and dusting yourself off. “I’m here with Brock.”

Lexie’s eyes light up with excitement. “You must be Brock’s mystery girl.” The room seems to go silent when Lexie practically shrieks that, even the children making no noise. “He had been telling us he was seeing someone, but we never thought he would bring you to a game early.”

“Oh, I,” you start, getting nervous now that all eyes were on you. You had no idea what he had told these women, or their husbands, or boyfriends, or whoever these people were. “Here I am.”

“I can’t believe Brock would just throw you to the wolves like this,” Lexie says, linking her arm with yours and walking you over to the food table.

“Are you kidding?” another one of the women chimes in. “This is exactly something Brock would do. I’m Natalie, by the way, J.T.’s wife.”

The two women start chatting your ear off, you unable to comprehend what they were saying. Brock had a ‘mystery girl,’ that you had now taken on the identity of. Brock was probably seeing someone who couldn’t be there this week and now he was going to look like an awful human when you suddenly disappeared and were replaced with another person next week. 

But, why did you care? You barely knew Brock.

You had no idea how much time passed by when they all start filtering out the seats near the ice, the players skating around in circles. 

You join them, unsure what else to do. You pull out your phone, getting an idea and starting to type in a new note, trying to wave Brock over to the boards when you finally get his attention.

They think I’m your ‘mystery girl??? you show him with your phone screen pressed against the glass when he comes over. The color seems to drain from his face, mouthing ‘I’m sorry,’ and shrugging way too casually for your liking before practically sprinting away from you to the other side of the rink. 

You head back into the room, beelining for the exit and pulling up Lena’s number.

“Brock told everyone he and I are dating?” you try not to scream too loudly, hoping that none of the people in the room or in the hallway 

“Oh,” Lena says. “That’s not great.”

“Not great?” you say, running your hand through your hair, feeling yourself panic. “This is crazy. What if this turns into a psycho killer situation?’

“He’s way too high profile in the area to get away with killing you.”

“That’s not reassuring.” 

“I’m just saying he wouldn’t get away with it.”

“Adelena,” you stomp your foot like a child out of frustration, using your friend's full name.

“Ok, calm down,” she says. “There’s no need for the government name here. I think you just need to talk to him after the game and figure out what’s going on. I will fly out there and save you if I have to.” 

You take in a deep breath. This was the dumbest thing you could have done, regret seeping into you with every passing moment that you spent in Vancouver. “I’ll let you know.” You go back in the room, trying to pay attention to the game as the people around you milled about, trying to get to know you and about your ‘relationship’ with Brock.

“How long have you two been going out?” Lexie asks eagerly. 

“Um,” you panic, “Not that long, honestly. This is all really new.” That wasn’t a total lie.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We went to college together.” 

Before Lexie could ask you another question that you probably didn’t have an answer to, a toddler runs up to her, crying. “Gotta go,” she says to you, lifting the toddler and trying to comfort them. 

You sat and tried to watch the rest of the game, writing down everything you told Lexie in hopes that Brock would have said something similar. You spent the rest of the game on your phone texting with Lena, thankful that no one else in the room came up to you to talk to you or ask questions the way Lexie had, only going back to the ice and looking up from your screen to see Brock scoring.

You wait outside the room for Brock once the game was over, his teammates coming out much faster than he was as the hallway and the room behind you slowly emptied out, leaving you alone in the hallway. 

“What the fuck,” you ask him when you finally see him. 

“I’m sorry, I know,” he tells you, walking out to his car. 

“I don’t care if you need me to pretend to date you, but I would have liked to know about it before you threw me into the Gossip Grotto.” 

Brock exhales when he gets into the car, resting his head against the steering wheel while you stared at him with your arms crossed in front of you. “The guys keep bugging me about not dating anyone so I told them I was seeing someone to get them to shut up.” 

“And you didn’t think that was relevant to mention when you invited me here that there was a good chance they would think I’m the girl you’re dating?”

“No. I figured they would have forgotten about it by now.” 

“Well, their wives didn’t.”

“So what do we do?”

You stare at him. “I could leave on the next flight and get out of here and probably be mad at you forever. Or, we pretend we’re together.”

He whips his head to you, his eyes crazy with shock. “What?”

You shrug, pulling out your phone and showing him the notes you made during the game about you and him being together. “We fake date. I’m only here until Wednesday, and you said we were only going to be seeing your friends on Tuesday night. We have plenty of time to figure this out.”

“We have a day and a half.” 

You scoff. “You think I haven’t figured out more complicated things in less time? I got a plane ticket and got myself here on twelve hours notice.”

“So, we fake date?”

“We fake date.” 

_____________________________

“What are you doing?” you ask, walking into Brock’s kitchen the next morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You spent the night in his guest room, sleeping in what was probably the most comfortable bed you had ever slept in. You spent the night before starting to hash out the story you would tell his teammates and their partners, agreeing that you would only share information about the two of you if you were directly asked about it. 

“Debating whether or not to make us breakfast,” he tells you, one hand on his hip, the other holding open the fridge door. Brock had on no socks, boxer shorts and a t-shirt, all of which showed off to you just how unfair his entire physique was. His hair was messy in a somehow perfect way that would have made you drool under any other context. You could pretend to drool over him, but real drooling was out of the question right now. 

“What’s the other option?”

He closes the fridge door, turning to face you. “I don’t make breakfast and we go out for food instead.” 

“How good are you at making breakfast?”

“I make a mean bowl of cereal.” 

“We’re going out for breakfast, get dressed.” 

“Wow, my girlfriend is bossy,” he smirks as you walk away, looking over your shoulder at him and sticking your tongue out.

Was that too flirty? You had agreed last night that flirting was ok so you could ‘get used to it.’ How could you flirt in front of other people if you had never done it before? 

You call Lena while you were getting ready. 

“You could just real date him,” you hear her suggest, crunching on something on the other end of the line.

“You could just give me real advice and not chew on something in my ear.” 

“It’s morning, let me eat my apple,” Lena says, obviously with her mouth full. “What are you guys doing today?”

“Right now, getting ready for breakfast. Beyond that, watch my location.”

“Yeah, I have no job. I can just stalk you all day.”

“If I end up dead how are you going to know?”

“Ugh, fine,” she sighs. “Have fun, don’t die.”

She hangs up, leaving you alone to get dressed for a day you didn’t know the details of. You pull on leggings and a sweater, your sneakers on and grabbed a jacket that you didn’t even know if you needed. You head back out to Brock’s kitchen, finding him leaning against the counter on his phone.

“You need to change,” you tell him. He had on black jeans and the same color sweater as you. 

“This could be a cute couple thing,” he jokes. “We could take a picture together and post it, or something.” You hesitate, walking over to Brock as he extends his hand with his camera open. “At least pretend to like me,” he tells you, plastering a smile on his face as he starts taking photo after photo.

You rest your hand on his chest, leaning into him and smiling at his camera. You did look good together, if you had to admit. 

“Can you do one where you kiss my cheek?’

“What?”

“Don’t couples do that?’

You stare at him for a second. Would it be weird to do that? He asked you to do it. “I normally scroll past those photos.”

“Me, too.” The two of you stand in silence for a second, neither of you sure how to go on. “Maybe we don’t do that. Too much, too soon.” You nod in agreement.

“So, where are we going?”

Brock smiles at you, leading you out the door. 

_____________________________

The breakfast he took you to was amazing. He said that he had an entire day for you planned as a thank you for coming out here in the first place. 

“How are you with hiking?”

“It depends.”

“On?”

“How long the trail is.”

Brock laughs, putting his car in park in front of a water front. 

“If we don’t stop, it’ll take two hours.” 

“That seems like a long time.”

“That’s how long my games are.”

“Yeah, that was a long time,” you tease him, getting out of the car. 

The trail was beautiful, a breeze off the water cooling you down as you walked alongside Brock. This could easily have been a real date if the two of you were actually together. 

You shake your head slightly of the thought. This was just supposed to be you helping him out, even though that wasn’t the original purpose of your trip. “So what are you supposed to do for Friendsgiving tomorrow night?”

Brock stops walking, the person behind him nearly knocking into him as he scolds Brock for stopping in the middle of the trail. You pull him over to the side of the walkway, ignoring the spark that you swore ran through you as laced your fingers in his. 

“I have no idea, actually.” 

“So you’re off to a great start.”

“I think I was told to bring something in the group chat,” he says, using his free hand to pull out his phone and start scrolling through the message thread that seemed to go on forever, your hands still intertwined. You weren’t sure he even noticed at this point, but part of you didn’t want to be the one to break the connection between you. “Ah, mac and cheese.”

“Have you ever made homemade mac and cheese before?”

“It has to be homemade?”

You roll your eyes, starting to walk again with your hands still locked together. “Did you think it would just magically spawn in front of you once you got to Quinn’s place?”

“I only have boxes of the store brand of mac and cheese.”

“Oh my god,” you sigh, pulling out your phone and finding the recipe you make for yourself when you have motivation. “Can you use Quinn’s oven when you get there or will he not have space?”

He quickly types on his phone as the two of you keep walking. “Yeah, we can as long as it doesn’t take too long,” he tells you, showing you the message from Quinn.

You nod, scrolling to the recipe on the website. “What do you have from these ingredients?” 

Brock quickly scans the list, nodding along and mouthing each component to himself. “I have the flour, salt, and pepper.”

“So you were supposed to be making mac and cheese and you had neither the mac nor the cheese?”

“That would be correct.”

“Oh my god,” you groan again. Brock stops walking, pulling you off to the side of the trail again. “What?” Brock gestures to the water in front of you, the sun making the ripples shine, the sky absolutely pristine. “Wow,” you let out. 

“What do you think?” you hear him ask, not taking your attention away from the sight in front of you.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” You look over at him, seeing him tuck his phone away into his pocket, his eyes on you instead of the view. 

_____________________________

“Why was getting all of this way harder than I thought it would be?” Brock asks, putting the bags of groceries on the counter.

“Because you had no idea where anything in the store was and we had to keep doubling back for things we missed the first time.”

“You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“We’re dating, isn’t that something you’re supposed to know?”

Brock laughs, pulling out pans and bowls from his cabinets as you start to get everything prepared for the mac and cheese. You tell him what to do, giving him step-by-step instructions.

“This is nice,” he tells you. 

You think for a moment, shredding the cheese into a bowl. The recipe called for more cheese than any recipe you had ever made before, and somehow the mountain of cheese in front of you still didn’t feel like enough. “It is.”

“My mom and dad used to cook like this,” he tells you, his voice somber as he comes up behind you. 

“Yeah?”

“She would tell him what to do and he would do it. Badly, but he would try his best.” You laugh along with him. He had told you that his father had passed away a couple of years ago, but you didn’t know anything else about him other than what she could find with a quick google search that now, in a weird way, felt like an invasion of privacy. “We could always tell which things Dad helped with because they tasted just a little off.” 

“You miss him, don’t you?” you say, slowing down your shredding and turning towards him. He was facing you again, his arm around you but not touching you, resting on the counter on the other side of you. 

“Always.”

You swore he was going to lean in, his eyes flickering down to your lips. You clear your throat, turning back to the cheese. “You should check the pasta to see if it’s almost done or not.”

Brock nods, smiling and winking at you before doing what he was told.

_____________________________

“This is all fake.”

“And?”

“It doesn’t feel fake.” 

“Well, you aren’t a great actress, are you?”

“Lena,” you whine. 

“I saw you try out for The Little Mermaid in middle school.” 

You had texted her once the mac and cheese was done and you were back in what Brock now referred to as ‘your room,’ panicking that he had almost kissed you again. What if you were just reading into things? You felt stupid to think that he was doing anything more than pretending for the sake of getting used to things for tomorrow, right?

“Is there a chance for this to turn into something not fake?”

“Considering he lives in a different country, unless you want me to actually move to Canada without you, no.” 

“Do you want it to be something that isn’t fake?”

You hesitate, knowing that Lena had a stupid smirk on her face that would turn into some sort of ‘I told you so,’ later in the conversation. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does.”

You sigh. “He’s great, but I’ve known him for two days. You don’t fall for someone like that in two days, it’s absurd.”

“Jack and Rose did in Titanic.”

“And that’s fiction, not real life.”

“Ok, if you had more than two days, then what?” 

“Then, I don’t know. Maybe?” 

“So, what do you do about it?”

“What can I do, Leen?” You flop down on the bed. “I’m here for less than two days before I leave and probably never talk to him again. The best this can be is fake.” 

_____________________________

“Are you ready for this?” Brock asks you, handing you one of the trays of food you made. “No.”

He smiles at you. “Me neither.” 

You head towards the door of Quinn’s place, ready to be as overwhelmed with the people you were about to encounter as you were two days prior at the game, even if you had already met most of these people. 

Lexie is the first one to greet you, somehow, through the chaos of everyone else around you. She leads the two of you into the kitchen, even though Brock already knows his way around. “I’m stealing her,” she tells Brock, grabbing you by the hand and leading you off to another room while all the guys stand around the kitchen island, somehow the ones in charge of the food.

“It is so good to see Brock so happy,” she tells you, handing you a glass of wine as she poured one for herself. The two of you were alone in the room she pulled you into, leaving you amazed that with that many people in the house, there was even an empty room to begin with. “I mean, those photos he posted of you? You are the most photogenic person I have ever seen.”

“Uh, yeah,” you tell her, knowing that you have to stop stammering everytime you try to give someone an answer. 

“You don’t know about the pictures?” You shake your head. She prompts you to pull up Brock’s page, the most recent pictures one from yesterday.

You scroll through the carousel. The first one, as you saw, was the one of you two before you went out for the day. The second one was one of you in the airport, looking for him. You thought you looked awful, but somehow, he made you look good. The third from the game the other night, one of the photographers probably captured a photo after he scored of him looking at you and smiling at him before he heads to the bench. The fourth and fifth were ones you had no idea he took; when you were looking out at the water yesterday, smiling at the sight while your hair somehow perfectly framed your face, and while you were hunched over the cheese, grating too many cups of the stuff for today. 

“He’s in deep,” Lexie smirks, drinking her wine. 

You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as you looked at the photos, which he captioned, Thankful for you, with your handle tagged. 

“Now it makes sense why I’m getting so many notifications,” you joke, setting your glass down on the table in front of you. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find the bathroom.” 

You head back towards the kitchen, hoping to find Brock there. 

“I’m surprised you actually are dating someone,” you hear someone’s voice in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Brock responds.

“I thought you made her up,” another voice agrees with the first. 

“I’m not Quinn, I wouldn’t do that,” Brock lies.

“That was one time when I was in sixth grade,” the first voice argues.

You hear Brock laugh, your heart fluttering at the sound, immediately hating yourself for that. You’ve known him for a few days, why did you have to remind yourself about that?

“How long have you guys even been together?” Your heart stops,hoping Brock remembered all the things they talked about the last few days. She knew what he should say, but that didn’t mean he would say it.

“Only about two months, I think.” 

“You think?”

“Petey, you know he’s not good with time.” 

You finally work up the nerve to walk into the room, seeing Brock’s face light up at the sight of you. 

He was faking it. 

“Hey, babe,” he says, pulling you close and kissing the side of your head. 

“God, you two aren’t going to be the kind of couple who overdo the PDA, are you?” Petey asks.

“Only if you piss us off,” Brock says, not taking his eyes off you. 

“So, um,” you say, coming back to reality and turning to the other two. “Everything looks great.” 

Quinn looks at the clock on the oven. “We should probably eat soon. The food should be in a couple of minutes.”

“We’ll get everything on the table,” Brock volunteers the two of you, grabbing one of the plates and handing them to you.

“Everything is going well, so far, I think,” you whisper to him once you’re out of earshot of the others. 

“Everyone thinks we’re actually together. I think we might pull it off.” 

_____________________________

The rest of the night went surprisingly well, the attention largely kept off the two of you most of the time as the team seemed to be more interested in teasing each other while their partners rolled their eyes at the guys’ antics. Brock drove you back in silence, a smile on his face the entire time. 

You headed to bed, knowing that you were going to be leaving when you woke up the next morning, part of you dreading the moment Brock would drop you off at the airport. 

He pulled up to the terminal, neither of you moving once he put the car in park. 

“Can I admit something?” he asks. 

“Sure.”

“I don’t think I want you to leave.” 

You look at him. “I don’t really want to leave.”

“But,” he starts.

“I have to.” 

Brock gets out of the car before you could say anything else, heading to grab your bag from his trunk. 

“We were good at fake dating, though,” he says, handing you your bag. 

You nod as he pulls you in for a hug. “Was all of it fake?” You don’t know what compelled you to ask that, other than you not thinking before you speak.

Brock smiles, his arms still wrapped around you. Before you can fully process it, his lips find yours, a sweet, slow kiss as your lips moved together, his hand on the small of your back pressing you into him. 

“No.” 

[no-144444]

sweating- o.piastri

summary: oscar has been acting strange

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Brown! reader

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Zak had been worried about Oscar for a while. The far-off looks in meetings, the silence at dinners, the constant stares he was getting, all of it. He’d even been so worried, that he came to you, and you’d told him that Oscar had been just fine at home, so it must be something to do with work. 

It was a strange thing, to be dating your boss’s daughter. Oscar had in fact fallen for you within seconds of meeting you back in 2022, his first visit to MTC, before everything else happened. You, a legal trainee on the McLaren legal team, was the one running him through his contract, and he was very thankful that his lawyer was there to ask questions, because he was just focused on you. As he joined the team, you two got closer. About half way through his rookie season, he finally plucked up the courage to ask you out, and you had said yes. What ensued was a few months of sneaking around until you finally told your dad, who supported you two, but from afar. He liked Oscar, would he have preferred you pick someone that wasn’t his driver, yes, very much so, but he didn’t have a say in your life. You were an adult and if you wanted to go get your heart broken by an F1 driver, that was up to you. The one thing Zak hadn’t accounted for was the fact that Oscar was a sweetheart who was genuinely head over heels for you. He saw it when you were in the paddock, how Oscar smiled a little brighter, how he made you a priority all weekend, how he performed better. 

So what the fuck was going on with Oscar now? 

Zak was worried that he was planning on breaking up with you, or maybe he was just going through some mental roadblocks at work, so he called him into his office. 

Oscar awkwardly took a seat across from him, waiting to be addressed. 

“Are you alright, Osc? You seem a bit… off lately,” Zak asked, nothing but concern in his voice. 

Oscar shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said, but even he knew it sounded wrong. This is really not how he wanted this to go. He was insured of Zak’s worry by the way his brows furrowed. “You can talk to me kid, you know that right? If it’s about Y/n or-”

“It’s not about Y/n,” Oscar assured him. “I’m alright, I promise.”

“Oscar, talk to me, I’m here for you. If you’re going through something-”

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask for your blessing!” he admitted, speaking far too loud and far too fast. Oscar looked up to see Zak’s face blank, his jaw slightly dropped. “I’m so sorry-”

“You have it,” he said. Now it was Oscar’s jaw that dropped. “Of course you have it,” Zak’s lips turned into a smile. “She adores you. You clearly adore her. I love you, my wife loves you, my sons love you. Of course you have my blessing.”

He took a deep breath and smiled. “Thank you,” he chuckled. “God, I was terrified.”

“You thought I’d say no?”

Oscar shrugged. “Maybe?” 

Zak had been worried about Oscar for a while. The far-off looks in meetings, the silence at dinners, the constant stares he was getting, all of it. He’d even been so worried, that he came to you, and you’d told him that Oscar had been just fine at home, so it must be something to do with work. 

It was a strange thing, to be dating your boss’s daughter. Oscar had in fact fallen for you within seconds of meeting you back in 2022, his first visit to MTC, before everything else happened. You, a legal trainee on the McLaren legal team, was the one running him through his contract, and he was very thankful that his lawyer was there to ask questions, because he was just focused on you. As he joined the team, you two got closer. About half way through his rookie season, he finally plucked up the courage to ask you out, and you had said yes. What ensued was a few months of sneaking around until you finally told your dad, who supported you two, but from afar. He liked Oscar, would he have preferred you pick someone that wasn’t his driver, yes, very much so, but he didn’t have a say in your life. You were an adult and if you wanted to go get your heart broken by an F1 driver, that was up to you. The one thing Zak hadn’t accounted for was the fact that Oscar was a sweetheart who was genuinely head over heels for you. He saw it when you were in the paddock, how Oscar smiled a little brighter, how he made you a priority all weekend, how he performed better. 

So what the fuck was going on with Oscar now? 

Zak was worried that he was planning on breaking up with you, or maybe he was just going through some mental roadblocks at work, so he called him into his office. 

Oscar awkwardly took a seat across from him, waiting to be addressed. 

“Are you alright, Osc? You seem a bit… off lately,” Zak asked, nothing but concern in his voice. 

Oscar shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said, but even he knew it sounded wrong. This is really not how he wanted this to go. He was insured of Zak’s worry by the way his brows furrowed. “You can talk to me kid, you know that right? If it’s about Y/n or-”

“It’s not about Y/n,” Oscar assured him. “I’m alright, I promise.”

“Oscar, talk to me, I’m here for you. If you’re going through something-”

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask for your blessing!” he admitted, speaking far too loud and far too fast. Oscar looked up to see Zak’s face blank, his jaw slightly dropped. “I’m so sorry-”

“You have it,” he said. Now it was Oscar’s jaw that dropped. “Of course you have it,” Zak’s lips turned into a smile. “She adores you. You clearly adore her. I love you, my wife loves you, my sons love you. Of course you have my blessing.”

He took a deep breath and smiled. “Thank you,” he chuckled. “God, I was terrified.”

“You thought I’d say no?”

Oscar shrugged. “Maybe?” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Zak was very happy when he woke up to a call from the two of you, engaged, a few weeks later.

oscarpiastri

liked by pierregasly, zbrownceo, landonorris and 348,928 others

oscarpiastri: awesome season, can't wait to marry this girl though :)

comments

landonorris: OMFG YALL ARE YOUNGER THAN ME PLZ SLOW DOWN -> oscarpiastri: no more papaya rules 🤷

pierregalsy: too young -> kikagomez: bitch -> user92: lmao he's never said that before

zbrownceo: Congrats guys! Can't wait to walk you down the aisle!

charlesleclerc: MY SON IS GETTING MARRIED!!!!!! -> oscarpiastri: thank you adoptive father :)

user93: god she is GLOWING

user12: these are the cutest photos ever!!!!!!!

user8: THE RINGGGGG

lilymunihe: OMG I'M SO EXCITED!!!! ->youruser: OMG LOVE YOUUUUU

user98: they're so in love it's actually sickening

logansargeant: no ring picking creds? -> oscarpiastri: I don't think grimacing at every ring I chose was very helpful -> hattiepiastri: nah, but it was funny

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[iloveelvisss]

I would love to see more yandere elvis, maybe him blowing up at the mafia for getting to "close" even if it's not really anything besides politeness. (All the requests are yandere)

Or, (This is seasonal) elvis and reader going over a christmas list for reader.

Maybe even elvis tells the reader he wants kids(Vegas era)

Elvis tells the reader what to wear for a party.

Reader cleaning graceland and elvis gets breeding urges (smut)

Reader getting concerned about elvis in the late years of the 70s, and helps him get off the drugs, why? Because he does what she wants (yandere behavior)

Anyway, some ideas for possible one shots. You can ignore this ask if you want, but I wanted to give you a few ideas :)

Okayyyy so eventually I’m gonna try and do all of these… maybe? But I really liked the one about him getting upset at the Memphis Mafia for ‘looking’ at his girl, so I’m gonna go with that one for this. Thank you soooo much, and please feel free to request more😙😙!! Also, thank you, because these are such good ideas!

Lookin’ (Elvis oneshot)

Correlates to Lovestruck and goes along with that storyline (which will hopefully be getting a second part sometime soon).

Pairing: yandere!Elvis x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sometime after everything is settled and Elvis has married Y/N, he feels as though a member of the Memphis Mafia is getting too close to his ‘angel’. And he won’t stand for that.

Warnings/Triggers: yandere fic, so expect delusional, obsessive, compulsive, manipulative, crazed, and possessive behavior. Elvis gets very angry and possessive. References to drug use. References to forced marriage, breeding, and the colonel.

In hindsight you should’ve known better. It had only been a month since you had to marry Elvis, and he was still very much in the honeymoon mindset. He wanted you pregnant— another way to make his claim on you a known thing to anyone else.

You somehow got to walk to the bar without him going with you. Most likely because he had a clear view of you from where he stood talking to Sammy Davis Jr., who had come to watch his show. You poured yourself a water— just to be safe, and then you went on your way back to him at a leisurely pace. You stopped to admire the painting he had hanging on the suite’s wall. It was very pretty. A large landscape of gorgeous purple flowers that were blowing freely in the wind. Such a cruel difference to your current life.

That’s when it happened. Sonny came up beside you, holding a beer. “Nice, ain’t it? Me and Red bought it for ‘im before you came along.”

You smiled politely, making sure to not make eye contact. You nod and take a drink of your water, which was now halfway empty. “S’ very pretty. Bet it makes him miss simple life sometimes,” you sigh, knowing that you’re really referencing yourself. You missed simple life. Nowadays you wished you would’ve said no to the job offer and stayed in California with the trust fund kids.

Sonny noticed your drink and offered to refill it, to which you politely declined. But it was too late. His hand touched yours and Elvis saw.

You made eye contact with him from across the room and you saw his jaw clench. His eyes darkened only slightly, and nobody other than you saw it. But the whole room stilled and watched with bated breath as he dropped his conversation with Sammy and stormed over to you. The crowd parted for him like the Red Sea, and he looked as if he was a predator stalking his prey with his eyes narrowed and his nose flared. His shoulders held back to make them come off as more broad. He was downright angry— scary angry.

You knew you were in trouble, and you held your breath as he made it to you. He grabbed your arm and dragged you into the bedroom portion of the suite. He locked you in it, and you could only imagine the shit he was giving Sonny.

“That’s my wife! My goddamn wife! Ya stay away from ‘er, or I’ll break yer goddamn neck!”

And then the door reopens and he comes storming in, his anger pouring off of him in waves. You take a large step back and then you fall backwards onto the small chair by the window. He leans down into your face, grabbing your jaw. “Ya like humiliatin’ me, angel? Huh? Ya like makin’ it look like my own wife don’t want me at my party?”

You fight back the tears that are trying desperately to fall. You shake your head as best as you can with his grip. “Please… Elvis, I didn’t mean anything by it. I- I was just talking to him.”

He stares into your eyes with a heated gaze for what feels like hours, and then he seems to remember himself, and he takes a deep breath. He loosens his grip, his eyes softening just a bit. “I don’t like it when those… those pigs talk to ya, Y/N,” his hand moves to caress your cheek and clear your tears that managed to fall, “Jus’ promise me you’ll stay by my side, yeah? Don’t let those suckers talk to ya?”

You quickly nod, just wanting him to stay happy. You shakily reach up and put your hand over his, holding it to your face. “Y- yeah, baby, I’ll only talk to you. Promise.” You say as firmly as you can manage in your slightly shaken state. He then nods, seeming convinced and content enough.

Elvis reaches down and pulls you up by the arm. He pulls you into an embrace, his fingers gently trailing through your hair. He kisses the top of your head, whispering, “Mhm, angel, s’ jus’ you and me, okay? Forever. Yer mine.”

Okay, so this is ACTUALLY shit. I’m so sorry, please forgive me😭. But I wanted to get at least one of your requests out for you. Enjoy…?

Tags: @queenstarlight (lmk if you wanna be added)

[dorabledewdroop]

Chapter 12

Hi everyone! I am so sorry it has taken me so long to post this chapter, I got my stuff repaired, so now I can actually type. I am hoping to write a bit more often, but exams are coming soon, and hence, I will probably not be able to post as much as I want, but I will try.

Warnings: Graphic injury (as usual), blood, violence

Series Masterlist

X--X--X--X--X

You groaned inwardly after hearing Steve go through the 5th plan for the third time.

You knew you were getting overconfident, but your ‘episodes’ always left you filled with anxiety and mental fatigue.

“Steve,” you interrupted, “you know I love being prepared as much as the next teammate, but could I please just go and rest?”

He simply sighed, knowing sitting in one place was not your strongest suit.

“Y/n, your vision further emphasises the danger of this mission; hence, we need to be thoroughly prepared to avoid what you saw.”

You sighed, nodding your head and melting further into your chair. You could feel your girlfriends giving you a sympathetic smile from across the table.

They weren’t allowed to sit next to you after the 2nd time. (You accidentally zoned out during the entire mission briefing and proceeded to get shot within minutes of stepping into the field)

The moment Steve dismissed everyone, you bolted out, wanting to be anywhere but in a room.

Before you knew it, you were at your second favourite place on the compound (the first being in both your girlfriends’s arms): the new rooftop garden.

When Tony showed up at your room after your first very own mission, he noticed the plants and later inquired about your love of fauna. Before you knew it, the rooftop of your wing was remodelled into a gorgeous garden. 

Natasha had to be held by your witchy girlfriend to stop her from cackling out loud at Tony's very flustered expression when you started crying with joy and hugging the man.

That was where you had met Gabriel, the most adorable, dapper little gentle-teen who was in charge of gardening.

When you met, you immediately hit it off, bonding over your love of gardening and life itself. You adored his take on plants and were always excited when he came to share what he had learned in school.

You were brought out of daydreaming as two gorgeous women sat down on either side of you.

You felt your heart swell at the thought of getting to spend time with the two of them.

You three continued to sit in peaceful silence and watch the sun slowly set over the horizon.

X—X—X—X—X

Natasha flopped on your bed with a content sigh. She’d never admit it, but she instantly felt calmer and lighter when she was in your room.

Wanda was watering the plants on the balcony, talking to them sweetly. Neither of them had really thought about plants before you came around, but the change was almost immediate. 

Wanda absolutely adored spending time on your balcony. She was filled with so much energy and happiness when she was in your room and the rooftop garden. She knew it had something to do with you, even local parks or forests did not make her feel the way plants that were personally looked after by you did. It was as though she could feel you through them; your power emanated from every leaf, stem, and petal.

She basked in the feeling a little more, waiting for you to come back from your meeting with her brother.

You entered your room quietly, holding two boxes of pizza, only to find Natasha asleep and Wanda staring at the stars. Your witchy girlfriend must’ve heard your thoughts cause her head snapped to you with a wide grin. She slid open the door to enter your room, causing Nat to wake up.

“Pizza time”, you whispered to the both of them, your smile widening at the hungry looks you received.

Wanda moaned at the first bite of her pepperoni slice. Your head snapped to her, mouth hanging open as the veggies from your slice just dripped back onto the open box.

Paying no mind to your reaction, Wanda continued to devour that slice of pizza, making sure both her girlfriends heard how much she was enjoying her food.

“You might want to eat that before it gets cold, detka,” Nat whispered in your ear.

You brought your attention back to your slice—or rather, what used to be your slice. Unbeknownst to you, all the cheese and veggies had fallen off the slice in your hands, leaving you with just a saucy base.

You ignored the giggles as you ate whatever you could, face burning in embarrassment.

X—X—X—X—X

“That was amazing. Where did you get the pizza?” Natasha asked, cuddling further into you.

“I have no idea,” you replied. " Ask Pietro; he’s the one who got it from somewhere in Italy.”

Wanda’s head snapped up from your chest, glaring at you. “He did WHAT?”

You shrugged, “apparently, he’s getting faster and was more than willing to get me food.”

The witch scoffed, “he’s never done that for me, and I’m his sister.”

You smiled, kissing the tip of her nose. “He’s my best friend.”

Wanda merely rolled her eyes and rested her head back on your chest. 

Unable to help yourself, you egged her on. “Pretty sure he’d get me some lovely gelato if I asked hi- YEOWCH!”

You yelped as Wanda bit your neck.

“What the fuc- OW STOP WHY”

Wanda growled and continued to bite all over your torso.

“NAT HEL- OW NAT WHY”

You scrambled to get off the bed from your two bitey girlfriends but found yourself pinned to the bed by red wisps. You gave up, letting the bites and giggles continue until they eventually got tired enough to calm down and sleep.

You eventually fell asleep, dreaming of men in catsuits and a weird, ugly purple hulk.

X—X—X—X—X

“… Not to my face, they didn’t. Why did someone say something?” 

You heard Natasha’s voice in your earpiece. 

You chuckled, sipping your iced coffee as you continued to listen to their banter.

They soon figured out the truck’s destination and acted accordingly. The moment you saw the truck break through the gates, you immediately sprinted towards them.

You were asked to stay hidden until necessary but were unable to ignore the cries of pain of the civilians caught in the fight. You healed as many as you could while keeping an eye on your team, gasping when you saw Steve kick a guy and launch him far away.

You noticed the mission became more complicated as they identified the infectious gas that was stolen.

You heard that Rumlow and his group split up and instinctively knew it was time for your secret backup plan.

You whispered ‘code Silver’ into your phone’s AI and immediately ran towards the market. There were a few civilians with broken bones because of the fight; one was shot. You helped them up, healing them without them realising. The sun hid the white glow of your powers, so it wasn’t noticeable unless someone was directly looking at the injured area.

You were able to use the tracking app to find out where Steve was and saw him throw his shield in the air as it exploded. Your eyes widened when you saw Rumlow charge towards Steve.

You sprinted as fast as you could to intercept but didn’t make it in time; Rumlow punched Steve with such force that Steve flew backwards straight into you. You winced as you felt your ribs break under the force, surprised at how well Steve ate that punch. You wanted to heal him, but his suit covered his entire body.

You got up and were about to help Steve when you saw movement from the corner of your eye.

You weren’t able to avoid the hit and ended up flying into a building with a sickening splat.

The moment you could, you opened your eyes to look around, finding yourself in an office surrounded by your blood and a few bits and pieces of your organs.

You whimpered as you felt your organs go back into the right place, your tibia snap back into place and heal.

You crawled to find Rumlow on his knees, glaring at Steve. You saw something in his hand and tried to scream out.

Rumlow was almost immediately encased in a red sphere. Wanda, Steve and you waited for the explosion that never went off. Rumlow looked at his trigger hand only to find it empty.

Realising there was no imminent danger, Wanda let go of the sphere, and Rumlow was tackled to the ground by Captain America.

You sighed in relief, letting your body relax.

Wanda was perplexed; she clearly saw a trigger in his hand right before he pressed it. When Steve tackled him to the ground, they saw no bomb or trigger on him.

“Wondering what happened?” She heard a familiar voice behind her.

She spun around to see her brother grinning, out of breath.

She immediately ran and hugged him, pulling back when she smelled his t-shirt.

“Piet.. how.. what.. why do you smell like smoke?”

He chuckled, “You can thank y/n for that; she gave me her spare tracker watch thing and told me to use it when I got the alert.”

Steve frowned as he overheard the conversation

“Why didn’t she inform us?”

The speedster simply shrugged, “Ask her, wait. Where is she?”

Wanda felt her heart drop; she looked around but couldn’t find you. She knew you were nearby, but because so many people were being evacuated from the market and nearby buildings, she couldn’t pinpoint your location or read your mind.

She walked up to Steve, who was helping Sam round everyone up to arrest them.

Before she could, the building nearest to the market exploded. She gasped as she saw you fall from a few stories up, unconscious.

No words were required; Pietro took Wanda to the building, where she used her magic to stop your fall, lowering you directly into Pietro’s arms. He let out a yell and let go of you, shaking his arms as you fell face-first onto the ground.

“PIETRO, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU” Wanda yelled, using her magic once again to raise you in the air.

She let out a yelp when she tried to touch you; your body was searing hot. Your skin was charred and glowing a faint red underneath.

Pietro reappeared wearing a bomb suit, picked you up and ran to the quinjet as fast as he could.

Wanda met with Natasha and updated her while both of them helped with clean up. 

It took another half hour before they were all able to get back on the quinjet.

They entered to see you fully heard, sitting in the med bay of the quinjet, sipping water, and talking to Pietro.

Your girlfriends immediately rushed to your side, asking you a bunch of questions and examining you to make sure you’re okay.

It took a whole hour before they calmed down enough to sit with you.

Steve and Sam joined you, having put the jet on autopilot.

“I’m glad to see you’re okay,” Steve said, “but I have to ask, how did you know to call Pietro for this mission? I thought he had his mission in Europe?”

Pietro cleared his throat. “Actually, I arrived last night... I didn’t want to go on this mission, so I didn’t tell anybody.”

Ignoring the way Steve stared at the speedster, you began to explain.

“I know I wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention yesterday at the meeting, but something still bothered me about it. So, I asked Piet to stay on call in case of an emergency. But because it wasn’t based on any evidence, I didn’t want to make it official and change the entire plan. I know it wasn’t my call; I’m sorry.”

You refused to meet anyone in the eye, ashamed of the secrecy. You did look up when you felt a hand on your foot.

“Your intuition saved many lives today. Besides, it showed us something we couldn’t have seen otherwise.”

You nodded solemnly, the possibilities making your mind race faster.

Pietro frowned, “What are you all nodding about?”

“The building y/n was in exploded,” Sam said

“Yeah.. so?”

Wanda looked at her brother “Piet, that was the building the Rumlow was near when I tried to stop him from pulling the trigger.”

Pietro stared at his sister as it slowly dawned on him.

“They wanted to make it look like your fault.” He said,

The witch nodded.

“Someone is trying to break up the Avengers…”

X--X--X--X--X

tags: @marvelwomen-simp @nothanksbye07 @jono723@luadyjcmd@alexawynters @falloutboy-lover

[jellyskink]

The Doc is OUT (For the day.)

"Callie I'm home! And I got you a treeaattt~!"

Irene's voice rang through her studio apartment with a mix of excitement and weariness. She was finally done with work for the day, seeing her child was what she was looking forward to the most after today.

(Hm... I don't see her waiting for me at the door as usual, where could she be?)

Unceremoniously kicking off her shoes next to door, she tosses her jacket onto her sofa, after which she follows suit onto.

Today was just like any other, day in and day out from the medical office. The same car troubles, the same usual bickering with Mr. Ibis, the same dang stress of worrying how soon the world as she knew it was going to end, but on top of it all off, she had another appointment with Dr. Stanford Filbrick Pines that day.

(I just don't get that guy. Nothing about his lifestyle or even state of being makes sense! This is the first time in my entire career I can't figure out SOME kind of pattern with my patient.)

Dr. Pine's entire situation confused her, and the cherry on top was that his medical records were just as confusing and a mess to figure out.

(I just don't get it, there's such a wide gap of time between any kind of medical logs that have information on Dr.Pines. It's almost like he went MISSING for a while in his life.)

Thinking about this all really made her headache worse. Her hands reached up to her temples as she began to massage them gently. It didn't help much, but it was better than nothing.

Irene found herself sighing loudly as an adorably unearthly meow rang in her ear and she felt an otherworldly ball of fur lay on her head.

"mRrowww..."

"Daww hello my little angel! I missed you so much!"

Her hands immediately went from her own to the incomprehensiblely adorable ball of fur that gave her so much reason in her life. She was her baby, her adorable little cat Calamari.

Calamari happily purred in response to Irene's affection. Irene knew she was a walking trope of a lonely cat lady who treated her cat like her own flesh and blood, but she didn't care. Calamari was really the only family she had right now, and the foolish trope was one that was lame anyway.

"Guess what? I got you a treat while I was out today! It's your favorite! A tuna flavored cat biscuit!"

Reaching into her pocket, Irene revealed the cat biscuit to her fluffy friend. Before she had the chance to unwrap it, she felt it dematerialize from her hand like it was going out of style.

"Haha! I knew you'd love it! You're so cute!!"

Alright so Callie rarely ate with her mouth and preferred to absorb most food items into her third eye. It wasn't normal but it was very much still adorable! Even if staring into said eye for too long made you space out and question life for twenty minutes.

Calamari happily rubbed her head onto Irene's hand after finishing her treat.

(I know there isn't a ton of reliable studies that show animals such as cats can thank people, but Callie's a smart kitty, I'm sure she knows how! It definitely wouldn't be the weirdest thing she could do. Hmm, it is getting pretty late now, I should probably get dinner taken care of, I'm pretty hungry right now myself.)

With a sigh and movements as graceful as she could, she picked up Calamari and cradled her as she reached for her phone and opened up her flipphone.

(I... really don't feel like cooking today. You know what? I'm going to splurge and get takeout tonight.

But what? Chinese? No I need to watch my sodium intake... Spaghetti Bolognese from that one Italian restaurant a couple blocks down? Tempting as that is one of my favorite foods, and the owner does owe me a couple of favors themselves, but then again I get that a lot, I don't want to get tired of it by accident...)

Calamari flopped around in her arms playfully as she contemplated what she wanted to eat.

(Ah of course! Why didn't I think of it sooner! Pizza! It isn't the healthiest choice either, but I could seriously go for it right now! Now where did I put that one pizza place's number...)

After what felt like eternity waiting for her pizza delivery order, Irene heard a knock on the door as she opened it. The pizza she ordered placed politely on top of her cat shaped doormat, looking as much as a treasure as an ancient relic in the moment.

(Gotta say I'm glad I'm able to pay by card for this... I'm really not in the mood to talk right now to anyone.)

Happily taking the pizza into her home, Irene flopped down onto her couch, Calamari immediately following suit.

The pizza was as delectable as ambrosia in that moment. The crust was perfectly golden brown and spiced with italian seasoning, the sauce was the perfect balance of sweet and savory, spiced to perfection, and the cheese and pepperoni on top was the perfect way to end the wonderful layers of the pizza pie. And was that basil added on top? It was!!

The pizza was cut into squares, triangle pizza at least for the past year wasn't very popular with establishments or certain people, especially if it was just a cheese pizza, but that didn't matter at all to Irene.

Before she knew it Irene found herself eating the entire pizza, sharing some of the cheese and pepperoni with Calamari since that was her favorite part to eat.

(Ah I didn't mean to indulge so much tonight... well you know what? It was delicious! Who knows how long it's been since I last ate a nice meal that WASN'T something from the hospital cafeteria...)

Calamari at this point was sleeping next to Irene on the couch, satisfied and happily napping.

(Daw... I'm glad she liked it too, thank goodness the ingredients in this are alright to give to her in moderation, I have trouble saying no to my darling little Calamari!)

Noticing the time, Irene decided it was time to get ready for bed. There were patients to see and work for her to do tomorrow.

(I really want to wear my comfiest and favorite pajamas tonight, where are they? I know I washed them and had them in my pile of clean laundry on my bed... aha! Here they are!)

Irene quickly threw on her favorite pajamas, an oversized nightshirt with the words "Live, Laugh, CatMom" printed on it in cursive accompanyed by a silly picture of a cat Irene absolutely adored. Paired with it were her flowy and comfortable pajama bottoms, decorated with pictures of cats with silly mustaches.

(Finally done for the day, I really should fold my laundry and put it away... Ehhh I'll do it tomorrow. For now I'll just put the clothes and the basket on my dinnertable.)

Nighttime quickly began to set as Irene sat at her worn down antique vanity desk. The stars were beautiful at this hour, glittering throughout the night, they were one of the only things that stayed consistent and normal in Irene's life.

(Geez, no matter how many times I look at myself in the mirror I can't help but notice how quickly time passes. Stress really isn't doing your already awkward looks any favors... Maybe I need to change up my look again? But how?

Maybe I should get back into trying to learn makeup and more "modern" fashion... Or maybe a new haircut? Maybe not that latter option, I'm quite happy with my bob, it's certainly been easier to care for my hair lately, and I'm not sure I could pull off anything shorter or more... "Adventurous.")

"Mrrroww??" With a quick leap, Calamari jumped onto the desk, knocking over a few cosmetics, toiletries, and photos while doing so.

"Woah! Careful my dear! Haha you always seem to know when something is bothering me..."

*Sigh* "I suppose I'm just worried about myself again is all. You know me, whenever I'm not worrying about how I look, I worry about my work."

(I guess I just, never expected my life to go this way I suppose. Cipher really did throw a wrench into a lot of my plans in life. I mean, did anyone expect any of this to happen? I'm ashamed to admit I was arrogant in the beginning, I believed this all couldn't be possible, that it'd be solved soon if anything, I believed it couldn't cause as much problems and dangers to the world as it did...)

"You know what they say, every rose has it's thorn, although I certainly feel like I have more thorns than rose sometimes..."

(I'll never forget my first reaction to being sent out as a part of the group of doctors to help the people evacuating Gravity Falls. There was so much panic, so much chaos, and some of the wounds I had to patch up weren't anything you'd ever normally deal with even if you worked in the ER.

It almost seemed unreal, that any moment someone would say "cut" and it would end like a movie.)

(It's these kind of moments of panic that really make me childishly wish that the world of medical science was as simple as we believed it was as kids, that all it really took was being rushed to the infirmary, some rest, a bandaid, and some care to heal whatever was hurting somone.)

(But that wasn't how things were. It was much more complicated than that, and the kicker was that you always held your patient's life in your line like a tether. Whenever that tether broke and you couldn't help fix it no matter how hard you tried, having to tell the patient's family their loved one was gone... It's almost too much to bear sometimes.)

"I'm so thankful I have you though Callie, I really think you're one of the only good things to come out of this mess and into my life."

"Woof!"

"Haha!! That's a new one! You never cease to surprise me girl! That and the weird things you sometimes bring me home..."

(When she was younger it was normal stuff like mice, small birds, and insects. Nowadays it was much more... weird. When it wasn't something like a gnome panicking for it's life or an eyebat, it was random items.)

(At first it was pretty normal, like a sparkly pink ribbon probably used to tie up hair or something, black nail polish, or what I'm assuming is someone's art project for pins of what I'm guessing is a top hat and bow tie??)

(Then it became weirder and more varied. For example, she once brought home a weird plush that resembles Dr. Pines in a way. That one in particular was odd because I don't think I've ever seen Dr. Pines smile in such a showboating way, let alone wear anything that wasn't of any semblance to "his muse". The suit seemed normal but the fez was definitely the weirdest thing.)

(Most recently she brought home some kind of sentient gummy lizard-snake thing. It had jumped out of my hands when I had tried to take it outside to release it, and I still haven't found it to this day. Sometimes I swear spot it moving around somewhere from the corner of my eye while I'm at home...)

"Anyways, how about we head to bed? I know I'm tired today after an exhausting day!"

(I'll clean up my vanity later, it's certainly getting way too late for me to be up at this hour...)

With that, Irene promptly headed to bed with Calamari following in tow. She promptly fell asleep quickly after laying her head down, despite wanting to spend some more time thinking about things.

Unbeknownst to her though, up high in a corner of the wall of her apartment, was a cute little housespider sitting on it's web.

Of course the next morning Calamari would be found by Irene playing with this exact spider.

A cute little spider, with a strange pattern that strangely looked like a certain evil dorito with an eye. :)

(I'm really glad you and others liked my cringey fanfiction! It definitely surprised me and had me smiling ear to ear!

I hope you don't mind I kinda winged it with Oleander's character. I thought she kinda gave off the vibes of a tomboy/tomboy in her youth while also the vibes of the "determined doctor" trope. Hopefully this doesn't clash with your actual ideas for her? I love the idea too of her being a dorky cat lady too lol.

I seriously loved the details you made about Calamari! I thought it'd be funny if her teleporting power also let her travel dimensions for funsies, because imagine all of the mischief she could cause! Especially if she likes to steal Bill and Ford's stuff the most lmaoo.)

I LOVE cat mom Oleander!! And Calamari stealing stuff from other universes? PERFECT. I DEEPLY hope she steals things from other AU Fords!

And, Ford. Honey. Baby. Calamari isn't the reason you lost the cat show.

(I think I'll call this ask fiction! I'll put these in that tag, for those who want to find them again!! c: )

[maudie-duan]

First Series!!!

Series Summary: For nearly two years, Harry has been fighting to keep his relationship with Olivia afloat. At what point does he make the choice to either endure or let the stain of the world defeat his ambitious hopes of a lasting relationship? Or will a single night and a fleeting encounter be enough to change the projection of Harry’s path? Maybe our ‘Mystery Girl,’ Shiloh, will just happen to be in the right place at the right time. 

A/N: You guys, this is my first series; bear with me. In no way, shape, or form is this meant to follow Harry’s actual life, nor are the facts or timelines real. This story will be from Harry and Shiloh’s POVs. I like switching between them. I’m nosy, and you get more details this way. So, if you like details, you’re in the right place. This story will be a slow burn, so hold tight. I’m glad you’re here!!! ENJOY!!!!

Word Count: 2K

Warning: Strong language, minor angst, eventual smut, emotional.

Harry’s (POV) Part 1- Mystery Girl

***

I don’t usually think of how my relationships will end, but I’ve been thinking about our ending—the consequence of our beginning looming over our heads as if it were a pleading prayer whispered into the night. When “I love you” no longer sufficed, the emptiness stretched between us and how fickle we were. How we continued seeking tiny moments, desperate to fill that void—A revolving door of new faces and places where we lay tucked away, pressing our bodies together like puzzle pieces, hoping that one day they would fit together—indefinitely.

Surely, we knew this wasn’t going to work, right? From the beginning, we’ve been on two different parallels, trying to make this work, trying to force a path through murky water when neither one of us knew when or how the tide would roll in—and here I am, miserable out of my fucking mind. In a shit headspace just waiting for this evening to end because there’s nothing worse than getting into a massive blowout right before an event. I can’t figure out what’s worse, the fight or the forced niceties. The last place I wanted to be was in public, but this is my life.

Olivia was on about something—actually, I don’t even remember what the fight was about this time, and that’s what it’s been lately. These bullshit fights about petty, senseless matters that take more energy to create than they do to fix. It’s just that she’s gotten so jealous and paranoid that I’m growing distant, that she’s the only one fighting to be in this relationship, and maybe she’s right.

—Side note: Before tonight, I really hadn’t been interested in anyone. Honest to god, I was truly in this wholeheartedly.

Anyone who knows me knows I’m constantly in the public eye, even if I think I’m lying low. There’s always a chance that someone will recognize me. The chances of someone taking a picture are even greater because everyone needs proof, or it didn’t happen, right? I personally don’t believe in this—but to each their own—If you know me and who I am, that’s precisely what you get. She knew this when we met, yet she insists that every move I make is for the world, like I can’t comprehend all of the sacrifices that she has made to be with me. Trust me, I know, and as of late, she’s taken every opportunity to throw it back in my face. 

In all honesty, I know that relationships take work, but isn’t there supposed to be balance? Somewhere along the way, we’ve lost that. We both jumped in feet first and now life seems to be catching up even faster—the constant push and pull in every direction is getting old. Everyone wants something, and she wants the most. It’s like she doesn’t understand the sacrifices that I’ve made. It’s not easy being the world’s biggest pop star and falling in love, but I felt she was worth it at the time.

And now she wants more—Roots that I can’t seem to give her. It’s like I’ve only just begun to find my own footing, stepping into the skin that finally feels right, that’s mine, and she wants nothing to do with it—She wants the control. She wants me to align with whatever she thinks our life should be.

I mean, I get it. I understand wanting the security of always knowing your next move or having a better grasp, but surely Olivia knew what she was getting herself into. It can’t be this big surprise that our life together isn’t panning out into what she had imagined, and the shittest part about it is that I don’t even want to try anymore. I don’t want the things that Olivia is trying to project onto me with every fight that ends with her begging me to choose her—is that not what I’ve been doing this whole time?

I’m lost in thought when Olivia whispers something into my ear. She had gone on and on about this Gucci Cruise show and was pissed when I decided I didn’t want to sit front row. I didn’t want to distract from the show or draw unwanted attention. Especially after that fight—God, that stupid fucking fight that left her in tears, her makeup a wet smear all over her face, almost making us late. 

Tonight was supposed to be memorable. How many people get the chance to attend a Gucci show? This was my first. It’s an honor that I wanted to appreciate and take in with the gratitude I feel not only for the brand but also for the friends I’ve grown quite close to.

“I just feel like the whole point of coming to a fashion show is to sit in with the audience and have a genuine experience of the clothes and the people—” Her comment is pointed and sets me off, so I do the asshole thing and walk toward someone I know leaving her alone with her underhanded comment.

Eventually, I walk over to the edge of the curtain, peering out into the crowd, trying to pinpoint faces I’ll see later, making a list of people I want to see or possibly avoid. As I skim the front row, my eyes land on a woman who looks vaguely familiar. Still, I can’t put a finger on it. She sticks out like a sore thumb. For instance, she is one of the few wearing dark sunglasses in a dimly lit room. Making her stand out in all black, except for the few accents that set her apart from everyone else around her, who are dripping with vibrant colors, something you would expect at a Gucci show—wild statement pieces, different patterns, and textures that ebb and flow amongst each other.

She was magnetic in a way that made it hard for me to look away. The light played off her features, creating a soft aura. A delicate ray of pink traced a faint glow around her. I couldn’t tell if it was an illusion or a trick of the mind in my rose-colored glasses. When I lowered my frames to get a clearer view, I found that she was just as stunning without them—and still, to this day, I can’t explain the feeling; it was like my soul took the lead, reaching out, hoping to find a tether. A single piece of thread that could tie me to her.

And there I stood, my mind spinning out of control. I don’t even know how long I stood there. How long I continued watching her, captivated by how the light which seemed to dance with the shadows every time a model passed in front of her. Another thing I noticed was her ruby-red lip. How they spread into a shy smile, the light catching the gleam of her white teeth—a sight I imagined could be seen from anywhere in the room if you were fortunate enough to catch it. I observed her as she straightened upright and crossed her legs, almost as if she had suddenly become aware of her surroundings. Was she nervous? 

Her hair was slicked back into a sleek bun, tight against her scalp, making her features more pronounced and giving her a tidier appearance than everyone else. This timeless look could set anyone apart from the crowd, but what really caught my eye was the gilded chain dress that hugged her all-black attire underneath. I wanted to see her stand up. I wanted to know how the light played off the delicate beads draped from the woven metal. I wondered if it was uncomfortable for her or if she realized she stood out more than the celebrities around her. She had to be someone important, right? Not just anyone can sit front row at a Gucci show—Who is she?

As if she sensed my gaze, her head abruptly turned toward the curtains, causing me to jump back and bump into Olivia. “What the hell?” I hissed. 

Olivia stepped back, eyes wide, my words landing with a bite. I thought, “fuck is she about to make a scene?”—and yes, the bitterness was unnecessary, but it came more from defense than anger. I didn’t want to be found out. What was I doing anyway? How long had she been standing there? Could she see what I was looking at? Or could I pretend that I was trying to get a better view of the show, which was technically true, right?

“Can we please start over tonight?” she asks, almost pleading. “I know tonight is special for you.” Olivia runs her hands up my chest and cups my face.

“Okay…” I exhale. I want to have a good time, but a part of me knows I would enjoy myself more without her here, and it’s this very feeling that will haunt me all night, my thoughts like demons filling the room—unwanted guests that I’m no longer sure I want to keep at bay, and I know this isn’t fair. 

I couldn’t tell if it was the afterparty or the drinks that came with it, but eventually, the mind fog that plagued me throughout the evening began to lift. It was like a breath of fresh air, each drink diluting the pressure; the animosity threaded into every conversation Olivia and I had was evaporating. I could let go of the stress and relax into the theme of the night—and that was to have fun and fucking enjoy myself because I work hard, dammit.

It was getting easier to play into Olivia’s game of putting on for the coward. This was the part she liked; she loved putting on in a room full of people. She fucking thrived on the attention—she loved wearing me like a glove she could take on and off whenever she pleased. 

I was already three drinks in when I spotted my “mystery girl.” It surprised me—she was much shorter than I had imagined, but something was compelling about her presence. When she finally looked my way, I instinctively put my arm around Olivia, feeding into the lie, feeling like a fool when her eyes flitted over me with no recognition, piercing my ego in one swift look. I didn’t know what I thought would happen…actually, I’ll tell you exactly what I thought would happen. I thought my presence alone would be enough to garner her attention. Instead, I stood there stunned when her eyes lingered on Olivia, sending her a friendly smile as she mouthed the words, “I love your dress.” pulling at the strap of her dress to drive her compliment home.

Astonished, I stood by, holding my breath as the transaction morphed into Olivia mouthing a returned compliment, making ‘Mystery Girl’ beam and my chest swell with jealousy as she turned away, not even sparing me a second glance. She moved through the room effortlessly, like a hummingbird, moving from flower to flower fast yet graceful, donning that beautiful smile that had me begging her to look my way—just one more time. That’s all I would need. 

Was she a journalist? It seemed like everyone knew who she was. She spoke to everyone she encountered with such ease that each conversation I noticed flowed as if they were friends—though perhaps they were, but how was I to know? At some point, I lost her in the night, or maybe I knew I had to release her from my thoughts. I wanted to end the night on a high note, not go home with a suspecting partner to whom I would have to explain myself later. 

So, by drink five, I was being pulled onto the stage with Stevie, duetting a few songs, and as I closed my eyes, singing out the lines:

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above? 

Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

I opened my eyes as we swayed into the chorus, browsing the crowd. My gaze locked with Olivia’s, who was crying, tears streaming down her face, a pained look of grief stealing her features. We shared a look of understanding. Maybe even realization, but it hit me hard, the sadness creeping up my spine as she turned and moved away from the crowd, and I noticed her bump into Alessandro, who caught her by the arm with a concerned look on his face. I pulled away from the microphone, my voice choking up, and I let Stevie take over. We both knew that our world was crumbling right before our eyes and when I glanced back over, searching for Olivia, she was gone. 

A/N: Ya'll let me know in the comments what you think. I'd love to get your feedback. If you think I should continue?? Hope you guys enjoyed!

[starwilliams]

my opinion on the portrayal of the PTSD representation in tlou- as someone who is diagnosed with ptsd.

trigger warning: ptsd, talks of mental health and traumatic events.

i personally think TLOU did a really good job with this. specifically what we would call a ‘ptsd attack’ during the farm.

some triggers can involve loud noises or sudden crashes (like the shovel and barn door) and in my experience, i am transported back to the traumatic experience like it is real. and im living it again, even with some details changing, like how ellie invisioned joel calling out for her, which did not really happen.

i also know there is a scene in the remastered with a boar i believe, and ellie is crawling through a tunnel and sees a skull or something and sees joel? (DO NOTTT quote me on this, as i genuinely am not sure.) but that is also realistic. my trauma involved a corpse of someone i love, and that image can pop up at any time, and it is scary!

i know many people view these scenes as things to make the game more emotional, and even scary. but these things. (even if exaggerated in game) are infact real.

again, yes. i think everybody in the tlou universe no question has trauma of their own. but pstd is different, and shows clearly in ellie. especially during seattle and afterwards.

ellie faced trauma all her life, and losing the man who helped her look past her trauma, was the biggest trauma of all, and she had nobody to stop her.

this theatre scene.

ellie shows vulnerability to dina for the first time since leaving for seattle, dina was ellie’s only real ‘clutch’ at this point. and learning of dina’s pregnancy and jesse’s arrival, wondering if maybe they will be back together, or even head back to jackson with eachother.

everything was so uncertain, ellie thought all she had to do was get revenge and take down all who were present at joel’s murder, but she began to realise it was no longer that easy.

ellie realises how far she’s gone, with torturing nora. and even seems to get maybe nauseous thinking about it? (in left pic, idk. my interpretation.) like how in the first game, ellie exclaims she feels sick after shooting a man.

being unable to draw/do justice to joel’s eyes.

there’s many different interpretations as to why ellie crossed out joel’s eyes, and tried them over and over again.

perhaps she felt she couldn’t get them right?

couldn’t do justice?

or perhaps she couldn’t look at his face, features and all without remembering it being bloodied and battered.

i still struggle to remember my loved ones face after seeing their corpse, and it took a while for the grief and trauma to heal until i remembered them in other ways too.

ellie leaving the place we would deem most peaceful.

even after some form of healing and time, ellie still struggled dearly at the farm. and once tommy had come back to remind her ‘her job was not over’ she felt guilty for feeling even a tinge of contentment in life, without getting joel justice.

het wearing and smelling joel’s jacket, wearing it as she leaves, ready to go on a suicide mission, that would either bring joel justice, or get killed along the way, which maybe she wouldn’t mind so much.

she left her home and family in hopes the voices and memories in her head would finally go quiet.

maybe she resented herself for not being able to move on, like she imagined dina was.

ellie’s acceptance.

as we all saw, ellie knew not to even hope for dina or jj at the house (maybe they reunited before this, maybe not. but this applies either way), she left joel’s guitar behind. she had realised at the beach trauma won’t heal from violence, and chasing after a cure.

sometimes even the happy memories have to be left in the past.

um guys i hope this is okay! likes and reblogs ect would be so appreciated! i wish i mentioned more of ellie’s trauma from p1, maybe another day :)