#since i failed in my copy to repost it

[arcanescionmoved]

SHIPPING INFO: Caitlyn Kiramman.

ANSWER THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR MUSES SO PEOPLE KNOW HOW SHIPPING WORKS ON YOUR BLOG.

Tagged by: @misfits-of-zaun, @misstantabismuses, @independentzaun, @saviourofzaun Tagging: @hxundsprxdigy, @freedomsbounty, @legendscried, @bioniczaunites, almost everyone has done this already so XD

1. WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER?

I won't lie, I absolutely love Caitlyn x Vi (violyn, what a pretty ship name), however, I feel liek saying OTP means I'm exclusive to such things? Caitlyn and Vi are soulmates in my eyes, they will always be meant for each other; however with roleplaying, there is so much more we can go into. And that includes OCs!! So while I love this ship, I am not exclusive to it and that's all I'll write.

2. HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

Caitlyn is around 25 years old (In her Baroness verse its conditional. could be 25 as well or older as 35/38). I would say the most I go with with caitlyn is perhaps 20 years pushing it. In reading it, I'm not bothered as long as things are tagged, but arcane is filled with very dark themes and its there. Caitlyn in IC setting would not go any further then at most 20 years difference.

3. HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NSFW?

For me, I'm not troubled by anything nsfw, whether its sexual, violence, or other topics in that area. So in terms of sexual relationships, I feel like for it to be considered nsfw is when hands start moving. They could be fully clothed, but its still the groping, hands slipping under shirts/pants, even intense make-out sessions I think would all quality for being nsfw.

That being said, nsfw for me is more of a warning to those who write with me. just hey, this is getting spicy and if you don't like it turn away because I typically do write out nsfw scenes including smut. I enjoy the writing of it because its a part of the characters and their developing relationship.

In terms of violence, again, its part of the story, no matter how ugly it is. I would say nsfw in violence if blades/weapons come out, and the writing is visual it would be marked as well.

5. WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?

Alright, the fun part!! So, I haven't been around much to truly establish much, but I have a few ships that I've gotten to play around with!

Naturally, I have Caitlyn and Vi, and what I love about my ships with them is like, with everyone I write with the ships are different. Caitlyn has different connections with different Vis because all writers play them differently! I first started writing with @freedomsbounty and her Vi, and we kind of changed things up where Vi didn't walk away in teh rain in that angst, but actually decided to embrace her feelings and then promised to return. So its definitely a different way.

But then I have my ship with @misstantabismuses which is far more in depth with spreading out the timeline to be longer, rather then working in what looked like 'days' in teh show. So its this first developed partnership/friends, bonding on a level of noticing each other and then in time this whole '...oh shit.... I think I like her what do I do' and exploring this sort of long-term development from work partners to friendship to lovers.

So I of course love exploring with any Vi and I'm open to it (which I hope it would be known that I would never force a ship! I do ship them but I am not going to be like 'your vi has to like caitlyn' sort of thing).

As for other ships, some I'm exploring is with my Baroness Caitlyn, she has a relationship with Jinx as well! Its definitely a unique perspective in the mirror reflection of Piltover Caitlyn being with Vi, but here Zaunite Caitlyn is with Jinx. There's also an exploration between Baroness Caitlyn and Sevika, where Sevika works for Caitlyn in a sort of 'trade off contract with Silco where Sevika is now her body guard. Fun things to play with!

I also am open to other ships not just exclusively romantic. For example, @legendscried Jayce and Caitlyn are absolutely in a found family relationship. They grew up both as misfits, both having heritage from other lands, and just overall connecting with each other and finding comfort in the other. They develop a brotherly/sisterly bond and its a very strong one. I briefly touched based with @astrxae to and the possibility of Caitlyn having a big sister in Irisa which will be fun to explore!! And then oh, Oh the twisted AU with @independentzaun where Caitlyn and Jinx are half sisters! This whole complicated mess with that and the whole "How far will you go to take care of your sister" while also, ALSO dealing with the resentment of teh past and unable to forgive and forget. And then having Vi in it with her head going 'your her half sister, i'm her half sister, but caitlyn and vi aren't related' like the mind fuckery of this whole situation is absolutely hilarious!

But yes, that being said, I'm open to trying so many things and open to exploration of all ships if we plot and play around with it!

6. DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?

Yes. While I am open to shipping, I don't like being thrown things at with no plotting behind it. That being said, I'm very much an open communication channel, I have tumblr DMs as well as Discord (I prefer discord cause I can sometimes get obsessed and excited and write PARAGRAPHS worth of things). But I'm very much one for establishing a relationship before writing it. I like to make sure like, a character will click wiht Caitlyn and that chemistry through OOC talking.

I'm not one to be like 'we have to write 5 threads to see if chemistry works', but my form of checking on chemistry is talking ooc and seeing how one action reacts to the other and so on. If that chemistry is establish, then its ten times easier to start writing a ship.

So basically, come talk to me OOC. 99% of the time, I'm sure i'll ship, I just need to be able to talk and ramble and plot with you.

7. ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?

So, I don't quite understand this just because, I don't know? I love ships, but not exclusively romantic. I'm in for all the ships, whether its romantic, platonic, even antagonistic! I'm here to write and enjoy teh development between characters. So if I develop a ship it happens.

8. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

I love all my ships, I have several of them so its more, like, I just enjoy writing them! Whether its Caitlyn x Vi, or exploring the realms of other ships, I wouldn't say I have a favorite. Because all of them are my favorites, that's why I'm writing them! A few to list that I'm enjoying playing with are Caitlyn x Vi, Caitlyn x Sevika, Caitlyn x Jinx, Caitlyn x Ran, I also have my platonic ships with Caitlyn x Jayce, Caitlyn x Irisa (OC). There is also an new antagonistic ship i'm getting with Caitlyn x Neopolitian which is going to be a very of Sherlock x Moriarty which is gunna be hella fun I bet!

Honestly, if we have a ship, its a favorite.

9. FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?

Message me and go 'CAN I OFFER YOU THIS MUSE!?' and then we talk. Really simple. I won't automatically say yes, but like I said. OOC communication and checking chemistry by talking.

[gojosoups]

cw: smut, fluff, slight angst, husband gojo, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, nipple play, pregnancy, f!reader, all characters are 18+, MDNI, not proofread cuz I'm lazy

a/n: idk what this is, but I posted it.. it's posted byeeee!! this has been rotting in my drafts since the beginning of the month... might write a full fic later, who knows.. definitely not me lol

Gojo Satoru is obsessed with your pregnancy boobs. 

Ever since you told him about your pregnancy, he’s been the most excited. More excited than your dear family.. and for all the wrong reasons too. 

Don’t get him wrong, Satoru is excited to be a father (and a bit terrified too)!!

The battles he once fought were now scars littered across his body, forever a reminder of his past. He never thought he would have lived his life long enough to settle down in a nice and cozy home with you or to have lived long enough to have a family with you, the love of his life.

And unfortunately for you, at the end of the day, your sweet and loving husband, Gojo Satoru, was a man. A man so deeply obsessed with his beautiful wife and her changing body… especially with the two fat mounds on her chest that seem to be growing as each day passes by and your delivery comes closer.

Your poor sensitive breasts, full and round of milk for your baby (and for your greedy husband.) The same soft breasts and leaking nipples that were always either popped into his mouth or played by his skilled fingers, never failing to make his precum-covered cock, rock hard.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

[yintous]

꒰ 🍯 ꒱ ─── 𝓢WEETER THAN HONEY! ㆍ₊⊹

gn! reader ; embarrassing things the batboys did when they had a crush on you.

notes. might be a little ooc since i got carried away and this is satire 🙏 [masterlist]

DICK GRAYSON

changes his pfps to whatever you called cute

for example, you called an orange cat cute, his profile picture in every account you have him added on is a picture of an orange cat. they’re all different pictures of orange cats, too

depending on his mood, he might even post something about orange cats 😭😭😭

he MIGHT say the “without me?” phrase once in awhile whenever you say you have to go somewhere or whenever you have to run an errand…

once tried to be nonchalant and mysterious so he could get your attention but he crumbled the moment you smiled at him; he didn’t bother hiding it either!! he FOLDED as quick as light

posted a thirst trap with your favorite song and deleted it when you haven’t viewed the post in five seconds

JASON TODD

screenshotted your text and sent it to YOU instead of roy in a panic

tried to gaslight himself into thinking that he didn’t have a crush on you when it was blatantly obvious to EVERYONE

tried teasing you once by taking your phone and saying “you’re too short” and he immediately failed because you managed to retrieve your phone in seconds

one time, you turned around to look at him and he was already staring at you with a thousand-yard stare (he was zoned out)

he takes an hour or two to reply whenever you send a risky text not because he wants to leave you on read, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to reply

TIM DRAKE

somehow found your spotify playlist and started bragging about listening to your favorite artists to EVERYONE so said people could spread that he had a similar music taste to you 💔

but if you actually ask him about the artists, he’d lowkey just freeze and say “yeah..” while nodding with a small smile on his face

probably stalked your social media following and who was following your account, analyzed every single account and has been praying to whatever entity that was listening to him that you wouldn’t end up with any of the people you were following/or the people that were following you

left you on read for a good five hours because he accidentally fell asleep while texting you and it felt like hell was waiting for him the moment the realization kicked in

DUKE THOMAS

learned a whole new language for you when he wasn’t even sure you spoke it in the first place (thankfully, you did)

he also learned almost ALL of your interests such as the shows you match, the genre of movies you like, the music you listen to, etc. just so you could talk about it together

started manifesting every night while he thought about what the two of you would be like as a couple

it turned into a habit that he couldn’t get rid of no matter what and he can’t sleep without doing it

bought a bunch of puzzle boxes so you could solve it together (after three months, half of them still aren’t finished)

wrote poetry about you in the woods and felt like shakespeare

© yintous do not copy, repost, plagiarize, or feed any of my work into ai.

[dollyichi]

WE LISTEN AND WE DON’T JUDGE : BLUE LOCK EDITION . . . m—dni. f ! reader / it’s either pretty tame or freaky idk / doing it raw / creamp!es / virginity and being inexperienced / some ooc but this is just for fun / not proofread

FEATURING ⋮ isagi, nagi, karasu, rin, barou, kunigami, chigiri

isagi yoichi ⋮ before your relationship was established he really really liked you and didn’t want to mess it up. but then he wasn’t sure if you were on the pill but the sex was so good he ended up coming inside you. proceeded to suck his cum out for your pussy cause of the panic. didn’t have sex with you for a week after that but you were fine.

nagi seishiro ⋮ played a game where he can customize the character and got really pissed off because it wasn’t even half as pretty as you. sulking each time he dies because he think he ‘failed you.’ ended up quitting the game too because he found out there was sex in the game and he wouldn’t want the ‘game you’ being with anyone else that wasn’t him. even got jealous one time because he didn’t know that he was increasing his character’s relationship level with an npc who looked too much like his teammate. too many emotions while you’re watching him lose his mind when you’re perfectly fine eating snacks on the bed. having to console him by riding him and telling him you only love him and not barou.

tabito karasu ⋮ pays for your nails when you get an appointment so you could jack him off after. will also take photos of your nails for you, with one jerking his cock of course. got this pavlov effect that he gets hard every time you show him your fresh new set. yeah he’s ruined.

itoshi rin ⋮ he was a virgin before he met you, and ended up cumming each time he bottomed out the first few times you guys did it. he was inexperienced and very sensitive since he wasn’t used to it. he was still always hard after so it didn’t matter. unaware he was crying one time because he was so overstimulated while you’re clenching down so hard causing his cum to spill.

shoei barou ⋮ you were supposed to meetup with someone else that your friend suggested but you weren’t really sure if it was him when you arrived at the meeting place. ended up going on the date with him and hooking up at the end only for you to find out he wasn’t actually the guy. “what was i supposed to do? deny a pretty girl like you?” went on a few more dates anyway and ended up establishing the relationship properly <3 [ do not be like them! ]

rensuke kunigami ⋮ you were the first person to ever give him head. it felt too good and better than expected. you told him you weren’t too experienced but you worked on him like a pro. he was scared he could hurt you so instead of holding onto your head he gripped onto the wooden headboards. when he came, he held onto it too hard he broke the top part in half.

chigiri hyoma ⋮ moaned out your name during a wet dream. until it shifted, “take it! fucking take it” he said. his teammates weren’t sure if they should wake him up any time soon and they weren’t too sure how to face you after hearing that.

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : i have no idea what came over me writing these but here u go crying during sex rin hell yeah!!!

[marvelseries19]

VANISHING POINT

Chapter One - Castaway

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter Four | Chapter five |

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female agent reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: The mission was successful, however, your return home will not be as easy as you may believe. In fact, you're not sure you would be able to get back.

A/N: It's been a while since I've been excited about writing. So, here is the first chapter. I hope you like it. I rewrote a few times, but I think this is as good as it gets. I would appreciate feedback on it, and any comments, suggestions, questions, or just conversations about it are welcome. There are some posts that I would like for you to check out, there is some info and ideas that I wanted to let you know. If you saw a typo or something, no, you didn't. Enjoy :)

Warnings: +18, descriptions of injuries, language, etc.

Word count: 1.2k+

[You do not have permission to repost or translate any of my stories or claim them as yours.]

The Quinjet hummed steadily beneath your fingertips, the vast stretch of ocean below endless and unforgiving. The ride back to the compound was at least full of beautiful views.

It had been an easy mission, just surveillance on a suspected HYDRA base. It took a week to complete, and now you were on your way home.

You leaned back slightly, exhaling. Just a few more hours, and you would be back home. Back with her.

Your fingers idly reached for the chain around your neck, your thumb grazing over the cool metal of the ring that rested against your collarbone. Natasha’s ring. Your ring.

"So you don’t forget who’s waiting for you," she had murmured the night before, fastening the delicate chain around your neck, leaving a soft kiss at the nape of your neck. You had smiled, shaking your head, but you had worn it beneath your suit every day since.

You were still lost in thought when Control’s voice crackled into the cockpit.

"Quinjet 9, this is Control. We just lost your tracking signal. Do you copy?"

Your brows furrowed. That’s not good.

"Yeah, I’m here. Everything looks fine… But let me check." Your fingers moved swiftly across the controls.

"Check your navigation relay. We’re showing nothing on our grid." A knot of unease formed in your stomach.

"Navigation relay is showing an error," you reported, your voice tight. "Stand by. I'll reboot—" The comms crackled, then cut out.

Silence.

Your stomach dropped.

"Control, say again? I'm losing you—repeat last!"

A new sound sliced through the cockpit—a shrill, piercing alarm.

Your radar flashed red. Missile lock. Your blood turned to ice.

"Shit—"

The first blast struck the Quinjet’s side. The impact threw you forward, your head slamming against the seat as the ship lurched violently. The left engine flared and failed instantly.

Alarms screamed. The Quinjet spun into freefall.

"Unidentified hostiles—taking heavy damage! Engines failing—I’m going down!" You shouted into the comms, straining to regain control.

"09, respond! What’s your location?! Agent Sloane, respond!"

You gritted your teeth, forcing your shaky hands over the controls, trying to reroute power. But the ship was already lost. The only thing you could do was brace for impact.

Your fingers clutched the ring against your chest.

Another explosion. The world blurred.

The ocean rushed up to meet you.

And then... Nothing.

—

The tension in the command center was thick enough to suffocate. Maria Hill stood with her arms crossed, eyes locked on the central monitor where Quinjet 9’s tracking data had once been.

Now, just static. Nick Fury stood beside her, his jaw tight, watching the same feed with unreadable eyes. Agent Dawson swallowed hard, headset pressed to his ear as he scanned multiple screens, waiting for anything-any sign of life.

Then—a red alert.

Dawson’s heart dropped.

"No, no, no..."

He straightened, turning toward Hill and Fury. His voice was steadier than he felt.

"We lost Quinjet 9."

Hill’s eyes narrowed. This couldn't be happening. "What do you mean 'lost'?"

Dawson hesitated. "No comms. No signal. No trace. It’s just... gone. We don't know where it is."

Silence.

Fury exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. "Shit."

A muscle in Hill’s jaw twitched, but she gave a curt nod. "Start a search. Now."

Dawson hesitated. "Are we letting Agent Romanoff know?"

Fury and Hill exchanged a look.

Hill's voice was quieter now, almost resigned. "We'll tell her soon."

But Natasha Romanoff was already walking toward them, worried about not being able to contact you.

And the moment she saw their faces, she knew something had happened.

—

The first thing you felt was pain.

It dragged you from unconsciousness, a dull, throbbing ache that rolled through your entire body in relentless waves. Your head pounded, the world tilting dangerously even though you weren’t moving. The distant sound of waves crashing against the shore filtered through the ringing in your ears.

You forced your eyes open.

Blurry at first. Then, sharper—too sharp. Sunlight burned against your retinas, forcing you to squeeze them shut again. You tried to shift, but the moment you did, agony tore through your right side.

Your breathing hitched.

Ribs—definitely broken. You pushed through the pain, blinking against the light, taking in your surroundings.

Sand. Golden, coarse grains clinging to your skin. Your tactical suit was torn and streaked with blood and seawater. You were half-buried in the surf, the edges of the tide touching your boots. Further up, debris from the Quinjet was scattered across the beach—twisted metal, shattered glass, pieces of what was once your cockpit.

Shit.

You bit back a groan as you tried to sit up. A sharp, white-hot burst of pain shot through your right shoulder.

Dislocated.

Gritting your teeth, you cradled your arm against your torso, barely holding back a scream. Your ribs protested with every movement, but you had to keep going.

Your left hand found your chain, fingers fumbling until they closed around the ring.

You exhaled shakily.

Natasha.

She had no idea where you were. No one did.

The Quinjet had gone down off-radar. You had no comms, no signal, no way of knowing if anyone was even looking for you yet.

You’re on your own.

For now, at least.

Your forehead throbbed, and when you reached up, your fingers came back slick with blood.

You checked yourself over as best you could. Right shoulder, dislocated; ribs, at least two broken; head, bleeding, probably a mild concussion; and finally your legs, sore but not broken. Good. Small victories.

Breathing through the pain, you forced yourself to move. You needed shelter. Water. Some kind of plan.

But first—the shoulder.

You swallowed hard. There's no way around it. It had to go back in.

You found a rock near the treeline, rough and sturdy enough for leverage. Your breathing was ragged as you planted your feet, braced your body, and slammed your shoulder back into place.

White-hot pain was felt behind your eyes, swiftly dragging you into darkness. Resetting your shoulder—or other joints—was nothing new, but never under circumstances like these or with this many injuries.

The agony was too much for your body to handle. So to protect you, it shut off.

—

A few months ago

"You’re fidgeting."

Natasha’s voice was amused, but there was something softer in her tone, something fond.

You rolled your eyes, stuffing your hands in your pockets. "I don’t fidget."

She smirked, stepping closer, the city lights casting a glow on her freckled cheekbones. "You do when you're nervous."

You sighed, exhaling a shaky breath. It was a stupid thing to be nervous about. You’d faced assassins, HYDRA, and alien invasions, but somehow, this moment felt more terrifying.

You pulled the ring from your pocket. A simple band, strong, unyielding.

Much like her.

Natasha’s breath caught.

"I know we never really talked about it," you said, swallowing past the lump in your throat. "And I know we’re both terrible at normal, but—"

She cut you off with a kiss, her fingers curling around yours, closing them over the ring.

When she pulled back, her voice was barely a whisper.

"I was waiting for you to ask."

—

You were jerked back to reality by the sharp, relentless pain in your ribs and shoulder, the ache grounding you in the present. But the memory of your marriage proposal still lingered, a warmth that cut through the agony like a lifeline.

You flexed your fingers. It worked.

Barely conscious, body trembling, you let your fingertips brush against the ring resting against your chest. A reminder. A promise.

And with that, you forced yourself to your feet.

[requiemforthepoets]

you’re the only friend i need ⟢ OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: you and oscar were always two peas on a pod. people would often wonder how you, a troublesome kid in brighton, had managed to befriend the calm and reserve boy, oscar piastri. it was truly a wonder.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, angst, heavy feeling fic, implied main character death (mcd), unsaid feelings, mentions of disease (leukemia), mentions of wound and bleeding, googled medical stuff, medical inaccuracies, inaccurate info, reader is a bit of a troublemaker, fast paced-ish, there are unrealistic medical stuff, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 12.3k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this fic is pure angst, there is no happy ending for this one. so if this is not your cup of tea, it’s better you stop reading from here on out. there will be no other part of this fic, bc i’m don’t really know how to pen the rest of the fic (sorry ><), i’m satisfied with the ending of this one. this fic is a love child of me loving childhood nostalgia and coming-of-age genre, and it was also the vibe the i get whenever i hear ‘ribs’ by lorde, bc i SWEAR that song never fails to make me feel stuff +++ the childhood drink, i only had googled it, so if i have any australian reader here, pls feel free to correct me. your comments/reblogs is always appreciated, i hope that you’ll like this one! :)

main masterlist | fic playlist

You and Oscar Piastri had always been inseparable, practically joined at the hip since the moment your parents introduced you as toddlers. Living right next door to each other in a quiet suburban neighborhood in Brighton, meant that your lives intertwined in a way that felt natural, as if you had always been destined to be a part of one another’s stories. Your parents, close friends long before either of you were born, often joked that it was inevitable that you two would end up being close. Whether it was playdates during the day or sleepovers at night, there was rarely a time when you and Oscar weren’t together.

Sleepovers were always your favorite. Your parents would bring you to Oscar's house with a hastily packed bag, and Nicole and Chris would always welcome you as if you were one of their own. Nicole always had snacks ready—popcorn, biscuits, and sometimes her famous chocolate cake, and how Chris would sometimes tease you both about staying up too late. You and Oscar never really did listen to him, though.

Once the lights were out and the world outside went quiet, you and Oscar would sneak flashlights under the covers, building forts out of blankets and couch cushions. Inside your makeshift castles, you would whisper to each other in the dark, sharing stories that veeted from spine-tingling ghost tales to ridiculous made-up adventures that had you both doubled over with laughter. It was not uncommon for you to laugh so hard your ribs hurt, clutching your sides as Oscar tried, and failed, to stifle his giggles so you would not wake his parents up.

Oscar, even as a kid, was calm and easygoing, which is a perfect counterbalance to your boundless energy and knack for trouble. He was steady, level-headed, and rarely got into trouble, whilst you had a knack for finding mischief, dragging Oscar along for the ride more than not—daring him to climb trees or riding bikes faster than you should’ve, to name a few.

Your parents, on more occasions than they could count, ended up at their wits end because of your antics. From sneaking out past curfew to explore the neighborhood to accidentally setting off store alarms because you thought it would be funny to hide in a display, you always found a way to test the limits of patience. More often than not, you did get caught—whether it was by a passing neighbor, security, or the occasional local police officer, you somehow always managed to land yourself in trouble—but never anything too serious.

It was usually enough to warrant a lecture from your own parents and a lot of head-shaking from Oscar’s. Despite it all, Nicole and Chris never seemed to hold it against you. They’re just kids, Nicole would say, a soft smile on her face. As long as you’re not doing anything dangerous, it’s fine. Chris would usually chime in on the conversation with a mock-serious, just don’t do drugs, alright? his tone was always lighthearted, but you knew they meant it. You would just laugh it off, promising to behave, even though everyone knew that promise would be short-lived.

Your bond with Oscar extended to his entire family. His younger sister—Hattie, Edie, and Mae, all adored you, looking up to you like the cool older sibling they didn’t have. You would play dress-up with them, let them braid your hair, and sometimes even join them for impromptu tea parties. They would giggle uncomfortably at your dramatic impressions of princesses and villains, their laughter echoing through the house. Nicole often remarked how good you were with them, and Chris would joke that you were training to be a babysitter.

Your home as well was equally a second home for Oscar. Your parents trusted him implicitly, often leaving him in charge when they needed someone to keep you grounded. He had this knack for calming you down whenever you’re in one of your hyperactive moods, his steady demeanor a much-needed anchor to your whirlwind of personality. Oscar often got praised by your parents, calling him the voice of reason in your friendship dynamic. But even they couldn’t stay mad for long when Oscar ended up being roped into your schemes. They would shake their heads and sigh, but deep down, they were glad you had someone like Oscar in your life—someone who did not just tolerate your chaos, but embraced it in his own quiet way.

Growing up with Oscar was more than just having a best friend, it was having a partner in every memory worth keeping. From lazy afternoons spent sprawled out on the grass, staring at the clouds, to winter nights curled up on the couch watching movies, every moment with Oscar felt like an adventure.

You had suddenly remembered that one time—it was the kind of night that felt alive, the air cool but not biting, sky’s a velvet canvas scattered with stars. You had been sitting on the edge of your bed, staring aimlessly at the analog clog, when the idea hit you—a reckless, wild idea that made your heart race with excitement. Sneaking out was not new to you, but this time, you wanted company. Specifically, you wanted Oscar.

Convincing him was not really easy. You had climbed through his bedroom window—something you had done far more time than you could count, and found him already half-asleep, wrapped in his favorite blanket with his hair sticking up at odd angles.

“What are you doing?” he mumbled groggily, squinting at you.

“Come on, we’re going out,” you whispered, a grin spreading across your face.

“Out where?” he asked, rubbing his eyes, though you could hear the reluctance in his voice. “It’s already late at night.”

“Just get dressed. Trust me, you’ll love it.” you smiled.

Oscar groaned, muttering something about how this was a terrible idea, but eventually, he swung his legs out of his bed and grabbed a hoodie. You knew that he would come around, he always did. By the time you reached the abandoned public pool, the chain-linked fence loomed in front of you, its weathered surface dotted with a big faded NO TRESPASSING sign.

He stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms. “You dragged me out of bed for this? We’re not getting in.”

“Oh have a little faith, would you,” you said, as you pull out a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters.

He stared at you, blinking slowly. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” you replied, popping the p.

“You stole those, didn’t you?” Oscar questioned.

“Borrowed,” you corrected, grinning mischievously as you hefted the tool.

Oscar sighed, the kind of exasperated sigh he seemed to reserve exclusively for you. “You’re insane.”

“And you love it,” you teased, motioning for him to follow you.

You led him to the back of the pool area, where the bushes grew thick and wild, partially hiding the fence. Kneeling down, you positioned the bolt cutters against the rusted metal links and started to work. The snap of metal breaking was surprisingly loud in the quiet night, but you pressed on, ignoring Oscar’s whispered protest.

“This is such a bad idea,” he muttered, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting someone to appear. “If we get caught—”

“We won’t get caught,” you interrupted, voice calm but firm. “Relax, Osc. I’ve done this before.”

“That’s not exactly comforting,” he said, but voice softened when he saw the concentration on your face. “You’re weirdly good at that,” he admitted after a moment, watching as you expertly cut a hole big enough for the two of you to crawl through.

“Why thank you, my good sir,” you said, brushing the dirt off your hands as you stepped back to admire your work. “Now come on, ladies first.” you teased, to which he just rolled his eyes at you.

Oscar followed you through the gap in the fence, grumbling under his breath but too curious to stop. The pool stretched out in front of you, its surface shimmering faintly under the moonlight. Despite the place being abandoned, the water was crystal clear, a testament to whoever was still maintaining it.

“So this is your idea of fun in the middle of the night?” he asked, tone caught between disbelief and amusement.

“Yep.” you smiled.

Shaking his head, he trailed after you to one of the old sunbeds. You plopped down first, stretching out and tilting your head back to gaze at the stars. After a moment, he sat down beside you, arms resting on his knees. For a while, neither of you spoke. The night was so still that the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of crickets felt almost amplified. It was peaceful in a way that made the world beyond the fence feel far away and unimportant.

“You really come here a lot?” Oscar finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, but somehow, they found where I would sneak in and boarded it off.” you said softly. “It’s kind of my spot. No one bothers me here, and I can think peacefully.”

He glanced over at you, expression unreadable. “It’s nice,” he admitted, voice low.

“Told you,” you said with a small smirk, nudging him with your shoulder.

Oscar chuckled, shaking his head. “I still think you’re insane. But thanks for bringing me here.”

“See? You love it!” you teased again, but this time, your tone was gentle.

He didn’t argue back, just leaned back on his elbows and looked up at the stars. For all his initial protests, you could tell he was enjoying himself.

The quiet stillness of the night surrounded you as you sat on the sunbeds, gazing up at the sky. The stars seemed to shimmer more brightly than usual, scattered across the inky darkness like tiny diamonds. The gentle hum of crickets filled the silence, a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. You turned your head slightly, glancing at Oscar, who was leaning back, arms folded behind his head, and face relaxed but thoughtful.

“So,” you started this time, breaking the silence. “How’s karting going for you?”

Oscar turned his head towards you, brow lifting slightly. “It’s going good,” he said, tone casual, but there was a spark in his eyes as he spoke. “I’ve got another competition coming up soon. You’d know all about it if you actually came to one for once.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling a little. “You know that karting isn’t my thing.”

“Not your thing,” he repeated, almost scoffing, though there was no malice in it. “You’ve been saying that for years. You’ve never even given it a chance.”

“I cheer for you in spirit,” you said, leaning back against the sunbed with a grin. “That counts, right?”

Oscar let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible. But seriously, you should come sometime. It’s not just about the racing—you’d see what it’s all about. Besides, my family would love to have you there.”

“I know,” you said quietly, gaze drifting back to the stars. “But I don’t need to be there to know you’re amazing. I’m always proud of you, you know that.”

He smiled softened at your words, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. Then, as if something had been weighing on him, he spoke again.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he began, voice a little hesitant, “I’m probably moving to the UK soon. There’s more opportunity there for racing. Better teams, better chances to make it in F1.”

The words hung in the air between you, and for a brief moment, you didn’t know to respond to Oscar. You felt a slight pinch in your chest, a dull ache you could not quite place. But as always, you pushed it aside, refusing to let it show.

“Oh, wow,” you said, turning to him with a smile that you hoped didn’t look forced. “So, you’re leaving me, huh?”

Oscar gave you a look—half amused, half exasperated. “I’m not leaving you,” he said firmly. “It’s just something I need to do.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased, poking his arm lightly. “Just don’t forget me when you’re already a big shot in F1, okay? Don’t pretend you don’t know me when I show up at one of your races, like, hey, remember me? The one dragged you into all her bad ideas?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Like I could ever forget you. You’d probably try and break into the paddock if I didn’t let you in.”

“Exactly,” you said with a grin, though your chest still felt tight.

Oscar tilted his head, looking at you more seriously now. “What about you?” he asked. “What do you want to do? Where do you see yourself in a few years?”

You hesitated, staring back up at the sky as if the stars might have an answer for you. The truth was, you did not know at all. You never had. The thought of planning your life out like that felt daunting, like trying to catch smoke in your hands.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” you admitted finally, voice soft. “As cliché as it sounds, I guess I’ll just…go with the flow. See where life takes me.”

Oscar studied your face for a moment, gaze thoughtful. “That’s not a bad thing, you know,” he said. “Some people tend to spend their whole lives planning and never stop to actually live.”

You turned your head to him, surprised by his words. You know that Oscar was philosophical in some type of way, and it always surprises you, but there was something reassuring in the way he said it.

“Yeah,” you murmured, offering him a smile. “Maybe.”

You reached inside of your jacket and pulled out two juice boxes of sunshine punch. You tossed one to Oscar, who caught it with a raised eyebrow.

“Sunshine punch? Really?” he asked, tone teasing as he turned the box over in his hands.

“I know, I’m the best, aren’t I?” you replied, already poking the straw into yours and taking a sip.

Oscar gave you a small shake of his head but didn’t argue. He was not a fan of the drink, you both knew that early on, but he appreciated the gesture. He poked the straw in, took a small sip, and scrunched his nose lightly. You just laughed quietly to yourself, looking out at the pool.

The water glistened under the moonlight, a perfect reflection of the pale orb in the sky. Silence between you was comfortable, just the two of you simply drinking your juice boxes, watching the faint ripple of water and the shadows cast by the surrounding bushes. But then, a sharp flash of light broke through the calm, your heart jumped as the beam of a flashlight swept across the area. You then froze, juice box in hand, while Oscar turned to look at you, confused.

“Finish your juice box,” you whispered urgently, quickly sipping the last of your drink and tossing the empty juice box into a trash bin.

“What “ Oscar whispered back, voice incredulous. “Why?”

“Just do it!” you urged, voice tight as your eyes scanned the area for a hiding spot.

Lscar grumbled, not really happy that you were hurrying him with his juice box, but he drank it quickly. You were already moving, searching desperately for somewhere you and Oscar could hide, but there was nothing. No bushes dense enough, no shadows deep enough. The pool shimmered ominously in your peripheral vision as the flashlight beam drew closer.

“Hold your breath,” you whispered sharply, grabbing Oscar’s wrist.

“Wait, what—” he started, but you didn’t give Oscar the chance to finish.

You yanked him forward, making him drop the juice box to the ground, and without a second thought, you pushed him into the pool. The water was shockingly cold against your skin as you followed him in, the splash louder than you had hoped. You gestured quickly at Oscar, motioning for him to stay under and not make any movement. His expression was a mixture of disbelief and panic, but he nodded, holding his breath as the two of you sank just beneath the surface.

The water muffled everything—whistle of the night, rustle of leaves, even your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. Above you, the flashlight beam danced across the pool’s surface, light refracting and breaking into shimmering fragments underwater. You held your breath as tightly as you held onto the pool ladder near you, praying you wouldn’t need to come up too soon.

Bright light lingered near the spot where you and Oscar were submerged. You could feel the tension radiating off of Oscar, his body still beside yours. The seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, every muscle in your body tensed. Finally, the light shifted, moving away from your side of the pool. You waited until the beam disappeared entirely before you tapped Oscar’s arm and motioned upward.

Breaking the surface as quietly as you could, you took in a deep gulp of air. The guard’s faint muttering was distant now, but there was no time to relax. Grabbing Oscar’s wrist again, you pulled him towards the swimming pool ladder, the two of you moving quickly but silently. Once out of the pool, you didn’t even wait to catch your breath.

“Run!” you hissed, tugging him along.

The security had heard the faint splashing as you climbed out and turned, his whistle piercing through the night. “Hey! Stop right there!”

You didn’t look back. Your feet pounded against the concrete as you made a dash for the gap in the fence, snatching up the bolt cutters on the way out. You could not risk leaving it behind, your father would definitely notice that they were missing. Oscar groaned behind you, clearly annoyed but following without hesitation. He was the last one through the gap, and just as you turned to grab his arm and pull him forward, the security’s shouts grew louder.

“Go, go, go!” you urged, practically dragging him by his hand as you sprinted down the street.

The sound of your shoes hitting the pavement echoed in the quiet street of your neighborhood, both your breathing still heavy from running, then noticed the way his right sleeve moved awkwardly against his arm. In the faint glow of a nearby streetlamp, you caught sight of a tear in his hoodie, a dark streak seeping through the fabric. Without thinking, you reached out and gently grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait, Osc, hold on,” you said, pulling his arm closer to inspect it.

Oscar blinked down at you in surprise. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“You’re bleeding,” you murmured, tugging the torn fabric back slightly to reveal a shallow but angry scratch on his skin. The blood was fresh, glinting under the light.

He tilted his head at the sight of it, his expression calm. “Huh? I didn’t even notice.”

“I’m so sorry, Osc!” you blurted out, guilt immediately rising in your chest. “It must’ve happened when we were going through the fence. I didn’t—”

“Hey, stop it,” he interrupted, tone firm but soft. “It’s not a big deal. Seriously.”

You hesitated, still holding his arm as if that would somehow make it better. Oscar shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t apologize. It’s fine.”

Even though his words were reassuring, the sight of the wound made you feel uneasy. You let go of his arm reluctantly, murmuring a quiet apology one last time. Oscar just rolled his eyes, though there was no annoyance behind it.

“Come on, let’s get home before we freeze.” he smiled.

The two of you made your way to his house, the familiar sight of the front porch of his house coming into view. You slowed your steps as you approached, realizing that sneaking back inside was not going to work. Oscar’s soaked clothes clung to him, dripping water onto the pavement, and your own shoes squelched with each step. There was no hiding this from anyone.

Oscar gave you a pointed look. “You’re ringing the doorbell.”

You sighed but didn’t argue, stepping up to the door and pressing the doorbell. It wasn’t long before you heard soft footsteps from inside. The door creaked open, and Nicole stood there, face shifting from sleepy confusion to startled concern the moment she saw both you and Oscar.

“What on earth…?” she muttered, eyes scanning your drenched forms. She glanced behind you at the perfectly dry pavement and then back at you both, brow furrowing. “It didn’t rain tonight, what happened?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but she quickly ushered you both inside. “Come in, come in. You’re going to catch a cold standing out there like that.”

Once you were in the warmth of the house, she left for a moment and returned with two towels, handing one to you and the other to Oscar. You wrapped the towel around yourself, the fabric soaking up the cold water clinging to your skin.

“I’m so sorry,” you began, clutching the towel tightly. “It wasn’t my intention to get Oscar dragged into this.”

Nicole raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt, so you took it as a sign to continue. “We were just hanging out at the public pool, and when the security showed up, we didn’t have anywhere to hide, so we, uh, hid in the pool.”

At that, Nicole’s lips twitched, and then she laughed, a soft, warm sound that immediately eased the tension in your chest. “You two are really something else,” she said, shaking her head.

You blinked at her, surprised by her reaction. “You’re not mad?”

She smiled at you, expression fond. “No, of course I’m not mad. It’s just water. But next time, maybe pick a place where you won’t need to dive into a pool to avoid getting caught, hm?”

You nodded quickly, relieved. “I promise! And please don’t tell my parents.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Nicole smiled again, waving a hand dismissively. “Dry yourselves off, and Oscar, make sure you clean that scratch on your arm before you head to bed.”

Oscar glanced at the tear in his hoodie and nodded. “Yeah, I got it mum.”

Nicole turned to head back upstairs, but she paused, looking over her shoulder. “Oh, and you can stay the night if you want,” she said to you. “It’s so late, and you’re already here.”

You shook your head politely. “Thank you, but I’ll head home.”

She nodded in understanding, giving you both one last look. “Alright then. Oscar, don’t forget to lock the front door and turn off the lights before you head to bed.”

With that, Nicole headed back upstairs, her footsteps soft on the carpeted stairs. You and Oscar were left standing in the entryway, still damp but no longer worried about the consequences.

Oscar glanced at you, lips twitching as if he were about to laugh. “Well, that went better than expected,” he said, running a hand through his wet hair.

“Yeah,” you said, tugging the towel tighter around your shoulders. “Your mum’s the best.”

As a compensation for the troubles you had caused Oscar and waking up his mother, you decided to patch up his wound. You know exactly where their first aid kit was kept, so you wasted no time in retrieving it from the cabinet under the sink. The house was quiet now, save for the faint creaks of the floorboards beneath your wet shoes as you moved. With the kit in hand, you motioned for Oscar to sit at the kitchen counter.

“Come and sit, take off your hoodie. I’ll patch up your wound, it’s the least I can do for causing troubles,” you said softly, gesturing to the torn and bloodstained fabric.

Oscar hesitated for a moment but eventually tugged the hoodie over the head, wincing slightly when his arm brushed against the sleeve. He tossed the hoodie onto the back of a chair and sat down, resting his injured arm on the counter.

You opened the first aid kit and pulled out a bottle of antiseptic, some cotton pads, and a bandage. Setting everything down neatly, you grabbed a damp cloth first to clean the dried blood off of his skin. The scratch was not deep, but it stretched across his arm in a jagged line, red and raw.

“Alright, this might sting a little,” you warned, soaking a cotton pad with antiseptic and dabbing it gently onto the wound.

Oscar sucked in a sharp breath, face scrunching up. “A little?” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Feels like you’re pouring fire on it.”

You couldn’t help but grin slightly at his reaction, though you kept your focus on his arm. Stop being dramatic, it’s not that bad.”

“Says the person not being burned alive right now,” he shot back, though his tone was light.

You rolled your eyes, pressing the cotton pad a little more carefully against the scratch. “If you keep moving, it’s going to take longer. Hold still.”

Oscar sighed and complied, sitting as still as he could while you worked. Once the wound was clean, you grabbed the fresh bandage and carefully wrapped it around his arm, making sure it was snug but not too tight.

“There,” you said, trying off the bandage and stepping back to inspect your handiwork. “All patched up!”

He glanced down at his arm and flexed it slightly, wincing a little. “Thanks, Doc,” he said with a small smile.

You began gathering the used cotton pads and other supplies, discarding them into the trash and returning the first aid kit to its usual spot. As you wiped your hands on the towel draped over your shoulders, Oscar leaned back in his chair, eyeing the fresh bandage.

“Think it’s gonna leave a scar?” he asked casually.

You paused for a moment, glancing at the scratch before shrugging. “Probably. But at least it’ll be a cool story.”

Oscar snorted. “Yeah, breaking into an abandoned pool and almost getting caught by security. Real cool.”

You smirked, folding the towel neatly and setting it aside. “You’ll thank me when you’re older and tell this to your kids. Your crazy aunt gave me this scar.’”

He laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Guess I’ll have to keep you around just for the stories, huh?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile on your face. “Anyway, it’s late, or early, I guess. I should head home.”

Oscar stood up as you grabbed your jacket, which was still damp but less soaked than before. “I’ll walk you to the front door,” he offered.

The two of you made your way to the front door, house completely silent except for your footsteps. Oscar unlocked the door and held it open for you, the cool night air rushing in.

“Goodnight,” you said softly, stepping out onto the porch.

“Night,” Oscar replied, lingering in the doorway as you walked down the steps.

The streets were quiet as you made your way home, slipping into your yard and heading straight for the tool shed. You carefully returned the bolt cutter to its original place, making sure everything looked untouched. With that done, you grabbed the ladder that was leaning against the side of the house and quietly climbed up to your bedroom window. Halfway up, you paused and turned your head, glancing across to Oscar’s house, his bedroom window was lit dimly from the inside, and there he was, standing jusy behind the glass. Oscar noticed you looking and mouthed a goodnight, with a smile.

You smiled back and gave him a slight wave in return before turning back to your task. Pulling yourself through the open window, you landed softly on your bedroom floor, finally letting out a breath you had not realized that you were holding.

Years had passed since that night at the pool. Life, as it always did, moved forward, and the close bond you and Oscar had once shared slowly faded into memory. When Oscar left for the UK to pursue his racing career, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness, even as you supported him wholeheartedly. It was a bittersweet goodbye without an actual farewell—you didn’t get to see him before he left. Instead, you relied on Nicole to pass along your best wishes, trusting that she would tell him everything you could not.

Not long after Oscar’s departure, your own life took a drastic turn. Your parents had finally decided to move to Sydney for better work opportunities, a decision that uprooted you from the neighborhood you had ever called home. The weeks leading up to the move were a whirlwind of packing boxes, sorting through childhood memorabilia, and saying goodbyes to the people who had been part of your life for so long—the Piastris were among the hardest to leave behind. Nicole hugged you tightly, and Chris offered his usual kind words, and Oscar’s sisters promised to write, though you all knew how unlikely that was to happen.

When the moving day came, you left quietly. There wasn’t much time for sentimentality—just final glance at the house you grew up in before climbing into the car. Sydney will be a fresh start for your family—as how your parents had put it, but you could not shake the feeling that you were leaving a piece of you behind.

The transition to Sydney was not easy, but somehow, you managed. The city was bigger, busier, and an unfamiliar territory, yet you adapted, throwing yourself into a routine that kept your mind occupied. You rarely thought about the past, though every now and then, something would remind you of Oscar—a fleeting mention of his name in news and online articles, or a memory that surfaced at the most unexpected times.

Nine months after moving to Sydney, something changed yet again. What started as fatigue and unexplained bruises turned into something far more serious. One day, your parents rushed you to the hospital after you fainted at home. Series of tests were run, questions were asked, and finally, a doctor say you down with an expression that left no room for doubt.

Stage two leukemia.

The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. You felt entirely detached, as though they were speaking to someone else. Your parents’ reactions were immediate—your mother bursting into tears and your father was gripping your hand tightly. But you were just sitting there, silent and still. You didn’t cry. You didn’t scream. You didn’t ask why this was happening to you. Instead, you felt a strange sense of calmness wash over you, a quiet acceptance that settled over you like a blanket. Maybe it was shock, or maybe it was the realization that no amount of questioning or anger would change what was already done.

Later that night, after the initial flurry of doctors and paperwork, you sat with your parents in the sterile quiet of your hospital room. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, casting a pale glow on their worried faces. You looked at your parents, both were still trying to process what they had been told, and made a request.

“I don’t want anyone else to know,” you said firmly.

Your father frowned, forehead creasing deeply. “What do you mean? People will want to support you—”

“I mean it, dad,” you interrupted gently but resolutely. “Let’s keep this to ourselves. I don’t want anyone worrying about me.”

Your mother hesitated, voice breaking. “What about Nicole and Chris? They’re family to us—they’d want to know.”

You shook your head, your gaze steady. “No. Please. If they find out, they’ll tell Oscar, and I just don’t want him to worry. He’s got enough on his plate, he doesn’t need to hear about this.”

There was a long pause. Your parents exchanged a glance, the kind of silent conversation that only comes with years of partnership. Finally, your father sighed and nodded.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “If that’s what you want, we’ll respect it.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, leaning back against the pillows.

Just like that, the secret was sealed. Life shifted into a strange new rhythm—hospital visits, treatments, moments of hope, and days of despair. Through it all, you kept your diagnosis close to your chest, unwilling to burden anyone else with the weight of it.

It had been nearly a year of chemotherapy—long days of sitting in cold hospital rooms in silence, hooked up to IVs that dripped chemicals into your veins. Each session left you feeling more drained than the last, your body growing weaker as the fight dragged on. Still, you clung to the silver of hope that the treatments were doing something, anything, to slow down the disease. But hope has a way of unraveling.

Your latest round of tests came back, and the news was worse than you could have imagined. The chemotherapy was not working. Instead of improving, your condition had worsened, and now the doctors were delivering the words you had dreaded since the beginning.

Stage four.

You sat still inside the small consultation room, the sterile white walls closing in around you as the doctor explained your options. Words such as aggressive treatment and clinical trials floated in the air, but you were not really listening to what the doctor was saying. Your parents were, though—you could see the desperation in their faces as they clung to every word, searching for something to hold onto.

Later that night, at home, you lay in bed staring blankly at the ceiling with the weight of the diagnosis pressing down on your chest. You thought about the past years, about how much you had endured and how little had come from it. The endless cycle of nausea, fatigue, and pain had left you feeling like a shadow of yourself. What was the point of continuing if it wasn't even making you better?

The next morning, you asked your parents to sit down with you in the living room. They looked at you with concern, sensing that this conversation was different. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before speaking.

“I want to stop the chemotherapy,” you said quietly but firmly.

Your mother’s eyes widened, a hand flying to her mouth. “What? No—you can’t mean that, honey. We’re fighting this, remember? You’ve been so strong—”

“I’ve been strong,” you whispered gently, meeting her gaze. “But I’m tired, mum. I’m so fucking tired. This treatment is no longer working on me. We all know damn well that it’s not working.”

Your father’s face was tense, his hands gripping the armrest of his chair. “The doctors said there are other options. Experimental treatments, new drugs—sweetheart, they haven’t given up on you, and neither should you.”

You sighed, trying to find the right words to make them understand. “I know you want me to keep fighting, and I love you for that. But this isn’t living anymore, every single day feels like a battle that I’m losing. I don’t want to spend whatever time I have left feeling like this.”

Tears welled up in your mother’s eyes as she reached for your hand. “There has to be something else that we can do. We can’t just stop.”

“I’m not giving up,” you said softly, squeezing her hand. “I’m just choosing a different path. The doctors mentioned alternatives, things that might help me feel better without the chemo. I want to try those instead, I want to focus on quality of life, not quantity.”

There was a long silence as your parents absorbed your words. Your father looked down at the floor, his jaw clenched, while your mother wiped at her tears. Finally, he spoke, voice low and strained.

“If this is what you want, okay, we’ll support you. But it’s not easy for us to accept.”

“I know,” you whispered, voice breaking. “I know it’s not easy. But this is what feels right for me.”

Your mother nodded through her tears, her grip on your hand tightening. “We’ll talk to the doctors tomorrow. We’ll figure out the alternatives.”

You leaned into your mother’s embrace, feeling a mix of relief and sorrow. It was not an easy decision, but it was yours, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe.

You never thought that you would be back to where it all started. The sun was warm on your back as you stood in front of the old house, taking in the neighborhood that had once been so familiar. Everything seemed different now—houses, gardens, and even the way the air smelled, but the tree with the tyre swing still stood proudly in the front yard. The sight of it tugged at your chest, stirring a mix of nostalgia and longing. You remembered how you and Oscar used to spend hours climbing its sturdy branches, swinging so high on the tyre that your parents would often scold you to be careful.

You took a tentative step toward the tree, wondering if the names you and Oscar had carved into the bark were still there. You hadn’t really thought about that in years, but the memory was vivid of how the two of you had sat side by side, each clutching a small pocket knife that you were not supposed to have, giggling as you carefully etched your initials into the wood. Before you could reach the tree, a voice called out your name.

You turned around quickly, heart skipping a beat as you saw her—Nicole. Nicole just stood there, just as warm and welcoming as you remembered. Her face lit up in recognition, and before you could say anything, she crossed the distance between you and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed, arms wrapping around you with a familiar kind of affection that nearly brought tears to your eyes. “It’s been so long! Look at you—you’ve grown up so much.”

You smiled nervously as she pulled back, her hands still resting on your shoulders. “Hi, Mrs. P. It’s been a while.”

“Too long, my dear,” she said, voice tinged with both happiness and surprise. “I heard your family was back in town, but I didn’t think I’d run into you so soon! How are you? How are your parents?”

“They’re good,” you replied, voice steady despite the sudden nervousness creeping into your chest. “They’re inside, actually, talking to the realtor.”

Nicole nodded, eyes scanning your face with that same maternal kindness you remembered from your childhood. “And how are you, sweetheart? It’s been ages since I last saw you.”

Your throat tightened for a moment. She did not know. No one ever did, except your parents. You forced a small smile and nodded. “I’m doing okay. Just taking it one day at a time, you know?”

She smiled warmly, completely unaware of the weight behind your words. “That’s good to hear. It’s so nice to see you back, Brighton hasn’t been the same without you.”

You shifted slightly, glancing around the neighborhood before returning your gaze to her. “How’s everyone by the way? The whole family, especially the girls.”

“Oh they’re all doing great,” Nicole said brightly. “The girls are growing up so fast—you wouldn’t even recognize them! Then Oscar…”

At the mention of his name, your heart seemed to skip. You hadn’t thought about him in a very long time, and now, hearing his name felt both comforting and surreal.

“How’s Oscar?” you asked, trying to sound casual despite the flutter in your chest.

Nicole’s face lit up with pride. “Oh, he’s doing wonderfully! You wouldn’t believe it—he’s made it to F1! He was signed with McLaren.”

The words hit you like a burst of sunlight, flooding you with an overwhelming sense of happiness that you could not even describe. Your lips parted in surprise, and you felt your chest swell with pride.

“He did it?” you asked softly, almost in disbelief.

Nicole nodded, smile widening. “He did! It’s been such a journey for him, but he’s finally there. All those years of hard work have paid off.”

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away, a wide grin spreading across your face. “I always knew he would make it. I never doubted it for a second.”

Nicole chuckled, her hand resting lightly on your arm. “He worked so hard for this, and I know he would love to see you. Oscar’s been so busy, especially with the races, but I’m sure that he’d be thrilled to know you’re back.”

You hesitated for a moment, the thought of seeing him again stirring a mix of emotions you were not quite ready to unpack. “That’s amazing,” you said finally, voice filled with genuine admiration. “I’m so proud of him.”

Nicole smiled knowingly, as if she could see just how much you meant it. “You should tell him that yourself sometime. I know that he’d love to hear it.”

You nodded, though you were not sure if you would.

You and your family are back yet again in Brighton. The day was unusually quiet, the kind of silence that made you feel every sound—rustle of leaves in the breeze, distant hum of cars passing by, faint creak of the porch beneath your weight. You were sitting there, knees pulled to your chest, gazing out at the familiar neighborhood that had shaped so many of your memories. It was strange to think that after today, this house, street, and view would no longer be yours.

Your parents were just inside the house, tying up loose ends with the realtor, discussing the final details of the sale. You had excused yourself, not wanting to be a part of it. The mere thought of walking through the now-empty rooms, stripped off the warmth and life they once held, felt too heavy. So you stayed outside, perched on the porch steps, letting the sights and sounds of Brighton seep into you one last time.

The air carried an unusual faint chill, and you hugged your arms around yourself as you scanned the street. It was still the same in many ways—neatly trimmed lawns, rows of houses with their uniform yet distinct façade. But it also felt different, as if time had moved on without you, leaving you as an observer rather than a participant. As your eyes wandered, something, or rather, someone had caught your attention. You straightened slightly, squinting to make sure that you were not imagining things. Walking down the sidewalk, with an easy familiar stride, was Oscar.

For a moment, you were struck by how much he had changed. He carried himself differently now, more confident, assured, as if the years away had molded him into someone who fully belonged in the world he had always dreamed of. But that was not what held your attention. Beside Oscar, her arm lightly brushing against his, was a girl. She was gorgeous in an effortless way that made it impossible to look away. Her hair shimmered in the sunlight, her laughter rang out softly as she spoke to Oscar, and her smile was the kind that lit up her whole face.

You felt it then—a sharp, unbidden pang in your chest. It was not jealousy, not exactly. It was something deeper, aching. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them, from the way they walked together, so perfectly in sync, so natural. They looked so good together, like a pair that had been meant to find each other. And you? You just sat there, still and silent, feeling like an intruder on a moment that was not meant for you to see.

You hated the way how your mind began to spiral, unearthing old, buried feelings that you had tried so hard to forget and ignore. You thought you had moved past it, but now, sitting there, it was undeniable. You had loved Oscar, or at least something close to it. You never admitted it to anyone, not even to yourself. But it had always been there, in the way your heart quickened when he smiled at you, in a way you always wanted to make him laugh, in the way you looked for him in every crowded room.

But you never told him. How could you? He was Oscar—steady, kind, driven, and you were you. A troublemaker. Reckless. Always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. You had convinced yourself a long time ago that someone like him could never feel the same way about you, that you were not the kind of person he would ever want.

But now, watching him with her, it only proved what you had always known deep down. They looked perfect together, in a way you could never imagine yourself fitting into his life. She had the kind of refinement and grace that seemed effortless, while you were rough around the edges and acting on impulsive decisions.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away, but it was already too late. The image of them, of Oscar, was already etched into your mind, and as you sat there, you chest heavy with an ache you couldn’t shake, you knew that saying goodbye to this house and street was not the hardest part of leaving Brighton.

The hardest part was letting go of something you never truly had.

You were standing by your family car, hands crossed to your chest, waiting for your parents to finish up inside when you heard someone call your name. Turning, you saw Nicole walking briskly towards you, face lighting up as she reached you. Before you could even say anything, she had already extended an invitation for you and your family to come over to their house for the afternoon.

You hesitated, glancing towards your parents who were just stepping out of the house. A quiet panic bubbled inside you, this was not what you were expecting, and you certainly were not in the mood to socialize. But you did not want to be rude, especially to Nicole who had always been warm and kind. So, with a quiet nod, you agreed.

The Piastri house hadn’t changed that much. The familiar scent of home cooking and the subtle hum of conversation greeted you the moment you stepped through the door. Your parents were warmly embraced by Nicole, their chatter filling up the air as if no time had passed since your last visit. You lingered near the entryway, unsure of where to place yourself, when you heard excited voices. Hattie, Edie, and Mae appeared out of nowhere, voices high-pitched with excitement as they spotted you.

Before you could even say a word, they wrapped you in a tight group hig, their arms squeezing you with an intensity that left you breathless. You tried to laugh it off, but it came out as a wheeze, your words muffled by the weight of their embrace.

“Alright, let her breathe!” Oscar’s voice cut through the chaos.

The three of them reluctantly stepped back, each of their faces flushed with excitement. You caught your breath, offering a weak smile as they began firing a series of questions at you in rapid succession.

“How have you been?”

“What are you up to these days?”

“How are you finding Sydney?”

The questions came at you like a tidal wave, and you barely managed to mumble a response before another question followed. It was overwhelming, too much all at once, and just when you felt yourself starting to falter, Oscar intervened again.

“Okay, that’s enough interrogation,” he said, tone light but firm as he stepped between you and his sisters. “Give her a minute to breathe, yeah?”

Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. Now, it was just you and Oscar, and the silence between you felt louder than anything his sisters had said. You looked at him, unsure of what to really say or where to start, and in the end, you settled for the safest and simplest thing you could ever think of.

“Congratulations by the way,” you said, voice quieter than you intended. “On making it to F1.”

His lips curved into a smile, soft and genuine. “Thanks. It’s been a crazy few years.”

You nodded, really unsure of how to respond, and the silence threatened to stretch on uncomfortably. But then he added, “I’m back in Australia for the Grand Prix.”

“Oh, that’s amazing,” you said, meaning it. “I’m proud of you, Osc. Really.”

Oscar tilted his head slightly, a smile turning into a more playful one. “You still don’t watch the races, though, do you?”

You laughed softly, the sound surprising even you. “No. It’s still not my thing.”

“Figures,” he said, laughing along with you.

The moment felt almost normal, a small glimpse of the easy connection you used to share. But it was fleeting. Oscar shifted slightly, his expression changing as he turned towards the doorway.

“Oh, by the way,” he said, tone casual. “I want you to meet Lily, my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

Lily. There she was. She stepped into view, her presence effortless and magnetic. Up close, she was even more stunning than you had realized, her features flawless and her demeanor warm. She smiled at you, and it was not forced or polite, it was kind, genuine, disarmingly sweet, and most of all, welcoming.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she said, extending a hand. Her voice was soft, yet it carried an ease that made you feel immediately out of place. “Oscar had told me so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” you shook her hand, offering a small smile in return. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

As she spoke, her kindness and charm were really undeniable, and you found yourself unable to summon any ill will towards her—it even made you feel bad for even thinking about something badly about Lily. She was lovely, perfect even, and though you wanted to find a reason to dislike her, you couldn’t. Lily was everything you were not—poised, polished, radiant.

The three of you stood there, exchanging conversations. You couldn’t help but take in the way Oscar looked at Lily—the softness in his eyes, the way his smile lingered when he spoke to her. It was clear how much she meant to him, and as much as it stung. You felt a lump rise in your throat, but you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to smile and nod along to the conversation.

It was going to be a very long day, and you just have to get through it. You reminded yourself that this was not about you—it never had been.

The Piastri household was buzzing with life as the afternoon was painted with golden hues. Inside, everyone seemed immersed in their own words. Your parents were deep in conversation with Nicole, their laughter and voices carrying through the air as they caught up on years of life. Hattie, Edie, and Mae were busy entertaining themselves, their giggles occasionally echoing from another room. Oscar and Lily sar close together, their connection evident in the way they talked and laughed, though they were kind enough to include you in the occasional exchange.

Observing what was happening around you, you can’t help but feel out of place, as though you were floating on the edges of a scene that didn’t belong to you anymore. You forced a polite smile, and excused yourself with a mumbled explanation about needing to grab something from the car. No one seemed to question it, and you slipped out of the house unnoticed.

As you closed the door behind you, you let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding. The tension that had coiled tight in your chest while you were inside slowly began to unwind. You stuffed your hand into your black leather jacket pockets and started down the quiet street, letting your feet guide you without much thought.

The familiar streets brought a wave of nostalgia, and as you walked, your mind wandered back to simpler days. Eventually, you found yourself wondering if that small family-owned store—one where you and Oscar used to visit after his karting victories, was still there. It felt like eons ago, but the memory was sharp and vivid—you and Oscar bursting through the shop’s door, with Oscar still giddy from the races, and celebrating his win with an ice cream as though it were the most important ritual in the world.

When you turned the corner, there it was. The modest storefront stood just as it had all those years ago, the paint already slightly faded but otherwise unchanged. The familiar bell above the door chimes as you step inside, and the scent of sweet, aged wood mixed with the faint aroma of candy hits you instantly. The store looked exactly the same. Shelves lined with old fashioned sweets, rows of snacks, and that unmistakable freezer filled with ice cream in the corner. Your eyes scanned the small shop, and behind the counter stood great old Uncle Roger, his face lighting up with recognition as he spotted you.

“Well, well,” he said, settling down a box he had been unpacking. “If it isn’t trouble itself!”

A wide grin spread across your face. “Hey Uncle Roger,” you greeted warmly. “You still remember me?”

He chuckled, stepping around the counter to stand in front of you. “Of course, I do! How could I forget the little rascal who used to hide in my back room to hide from the chaos she caused and would sometimes scare my customers away?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh, really?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Need I remind you of the time you pulled that prank with the balloons and the flour? Or the time you locked that bou Tommy out of the store and wouldn’t let him back in?”

You laughed again. “Okay, maybe a little chaos.”

“And poor Oscar,” he continued, tone light. “You used to drag him into all your mischief. That boy was too patient for his own good.”

You softly chucked as you nodded. “Guilty as charged,” you admitted. “Though, to be fair, Oscar was a willing accomplice most of the time.”

Uncle Roger let out a hearty laugh, the sound filling the small shop. “That he was. Good kid, though, and look at him now—a big shot race. His folks must be over the moon.”

“They are,” you said, smiling faintly.

“And what about you?” Uncle Roger asked, rone softening as he studied you. “What have you been up to all these years? You look different. Grown up.”

You hesitated, not wanting to delve too deeply into everything. “Life has been…pretty interesting,” you replied vaguely. “Moved to Sydney, tried to figure things out. It’s been a ride, that’s for sure.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing there was more to the story, but he did not push. “Well, you’ve always been a fighter,” Uncle Roger said kindly. “I’m sure whatever it is, you’re handling it like a champ.”

You smiled at his words, though a part of you felt the weight of them in a way he could not even understand. “Thanks, Uncle Roger,” you said softly.

He grinned again, stepping back towards the counter. “Now, I assume you didn’t just come in here to reminisce. Let me guess—you’re here for the ice cream, aren’t you? Same flavor as always?”

You laughed, a genuine sound this time, and nodded. “It wouldn’t feel right to leave without it.”

“Coming right up,” he said, already moving to the freezer. “Some things never really change, do they?”

The hours slipped by without you even realizing it. Time seemed to pause within the walls of Uncle Roger’s store, the air filled with the nostalgic hum of its old ceiling fan and the occasional chime of the doorbell. You had taken it upon yourself to help behind the counter, ringing up purchases and chatting with customers as though you had been working at the store for years. It wasn’t part of the plan, but when Uncle Roger had laughed and handed you an apron, you could not resist.

“I’ve always wanted to work at a place like this,” you had told him earlier with a grin, and he’d chuckled.

“Well, here’s your chance to experience it. Just don’t scare off the customers,” he’d teased before heading to the back to work on inventory.

Now, perched on a stool behind the counter, you twirled a lollipop between your fingers, its sugary sweetness lingering on your tongue. The small television mounted by the corner played a rerun of an old sitcom, the laughter track punctuating the quietness of the store. You glanced at the clock, realizing just how much time had passed since you had walked through the door, but you didn’t mind.

The familiar chime of the doorbell pulled your attention back to the counter, and you straightened instinctively. “Hello, welcome to Uncle Roger’s!” you greeted brightly, a practiced smile already in place.

When your eyes landed on the customer, your heart skipped. It was Oscar.

Oscar’s smile was warm and slightly amused as he approached the counter. “I had a feeling that you would be here,” he said, leaning casually against the edge of the counter, eyes flicking to the apron you wore, and his smile widened. “But I didn’t expect to find you working.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Well, it’s not everyday you get to live out a childhood dream. I figured, why not?”

He chuckled, shaking his head lightly. “Of course you would.”

He made his way to the drinks section, scanning the shelves before grabbing a couple of items. When he returned, he placed the drinks on the counter in front of you. You glanced at them as you reached for the scanner, hands immediately pausing when you recognized the brightly colored packaging.

It was a sunshine punch. Two juice boxes.

Your eyes flickered to Oscar briefly. “Sunshine punch, really?” you asked casually, though you couldn’t hide the slight surprise in your tone. “I thought you hated this stuff.”

He shrugged, expression unreadable. “Maybe my taste has changed,” he said simply.

You just hummed un acknowledgement, though you couldn’t help but wonder. From what you had remembered, he could barely stand the smell of it, let alone drink it. Then you wondered, maybe it was for Lily and him, you thought silently, and the thought of it tugged at something in your chest.

As you rang up the items, you kept your tone professional, if not, a bit playful. “Would you like to bag these?” you asked.

Oscar shook his head, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “No bag, thanks. Gotta save the turtles, right?”

You laughed softly at that, handing him the total. “Fair point,” you said, watching as he counted out the cash. You handed him his change, slipping into a mockingly formal tone. “Thank you for shopping at Uncle Roger’s, please come again!”

The two of you burst into laughter at how silly you sounded, with your laughter filling the quiet store. It felt easy, natural—like stepping back into a moment frozen in time. But as the laughter faded, a sigh escaped your lips, unbidden.

Oscar laughed outright at that, shaking his head as he pocketed his change. “You sound way too serious. Are you sure you haven’t secretly been doing this for years?”

You chuckled, leaning your arms on the counter. “Hey, I’m just trying to be professional. Gotta make a good impression on the boss.”

“How about we go to that public pool that we used to go to as kids?” Oscar said as he lingered near the counter while you glanced back at him, processing his unexpected suggestion.

“The abandoned pool?” you repeated softly, a mix of surprise and curiosity in your voice.

It had been years since you had even thought about that place, let alone considered even going back there. The idea felt surreal.

“Yeah, it’s still around,” he said with a small shrug, tone casual, though there was a glint of something, maybe akin to nostalgia, in his eyes.

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yeah, sure. Alright, let’s go,” you agreed.

You head towards the back of the store, pushing open the swinging door to find Uncle Roger hunched over his clipboard, meticulously counting boxes.

“Hey Uncle Roger,” you called gently, not wanting to startle him.

He looked up from his work, expression softening when he saw you. “Finished already?”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “I think I’m going to clock out for the day. Oscar and I are heading out for a bit.”

Uncle Roger’s gaze flickered to the counter, where Oscar was waiting patiently. A wide grin spread across his face as he stepped out from behind the storage shelves.

“Well, now. Look who decided to stick around,” he said, tone warm and teasing. “And in my shop, no less. Oscar Piastri, the Formula 1 driver!”

Oscar laughed lightly, hands tucked into his pockets. “You make it sound way more impressive than it is, Uncle Roger,” he replied modestly.

“Nonsense,” Uncle Roger said with a wave of his hand. “I always knew you were destined for greatness the moment you sat in that kart. It’s good to see you, son.”

Oscar smiled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “It’s good to see you too.”

Uncle Roger’s attention turned back to you, eyes twinkling. “Having you two here today, it’s just like the old times,” he said with a wistful sigh. “You, running around causing trouble, and Oscar, trying to keep up.”

You chuckled, feeling a wave of warmth at his words. “Well, as you said, some things never really change,” you said lightly.

Uncle Roger patted your shoulder. “You’ve been a big help today, my dear. I’ve been meaning to start on that inventory for weeks, but I couldn’t leave the counter. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Anytime,” you said earnestly. “I’ll visit whenever I’m back in Brighton, I promise.”

He nodded, expression softening even further. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Before leaving, you stepped forward to give him a hug, the kind of hug that lingered just long enough to let him know how much his kindness meant to you. You removed the apron and switched it for your black leather jacket. Oscar chimed in with a quick ‘take care, Uncle Roger,’ and you both made your way out of the store, the bell chiming softly behind you.

Relief mingled with a touch of surprise as you nodded your head. “Alright then.”

When you arrived at the abandoned public pool, it was like stepping back in time—a time capsule. The cool air carried a faint scent of earth and old concrete, and the quiet hum of the town surrounded you. You immediately made your way to the part of the chain-link fence that you had cut through all those years ago. A crude, jagged hole that had somehow withstood the test of time. You crouched down to inspect it, your fingers brushing the edges of the worn out metal.

“I can’t believe that it’s still here,” you said softly, more to yourself than Oscar.

The faintest smile tugged at your lips when you noticed the hole had clearly become a regular entrance for others. “Looks like I set the blueprint for sneaking in, huh?”

Oscar chuckled behind you, voice warm. “Yeah, you’re a trendsetter,” he teased.

You ducked through the opening in the fence, Oscar following close behind. The pool area was almost unrecognizable, yet unmistakably the same. The once-pristine tiles were faded and cracked, the pool itself empty and hollow, walls were now layered with colorful graffiti—messages, drawings, and names scrawled over one another in a chaotic tapestry. Though the old sunbeds still lined the deck, many were now broken and rusted. The whole place felt frozen in time, yet irrevocably changed.

Your gaze landed on one particular sunbed, its white paint chipped and the straps slightly frayed. “Oh, that’s the one,” you murmured, walking over to it.

Dusting it off with your hands, you lowered yourself onto the sunbed, letting the weight of the moment settle over you. Above, the stars were scattered across the vast expanse of the night sky, their light faint but steady. The air was still, and for a while, it felt like the world beyond the place didn’t exist. Oscar settled down on the sunbed beside you, legs stretched out, and arms resting on his knees. Like you, his gaze was fixed on the sky. For a long time, neither of you spoke, the silence between you comfortable—familiar.

You were so lost in your thoughts, mind drifting through memories of this place, that you didn’t notice Oscar moving until you felt something brush against your hand. Turning your head, you saw him holding out a juice box of sunshine punch. The drink you thought that Oscar bought a shop were for someone else, turns out that it was for the two of you.

Your breath hitched slightly as your eyes darted from the juice box to his face. “You bought this for me?”

Oscar smiled, a little sheepishly. “For us,” he corrected. “Figured it’d be fitting.”

A soft laugh escaped you as you took the juice box from his hand, the cool surface pressing against your palm. “Thanks, Osc,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

You popped the straw into the box, taking a slow sip. The familiar tangy-sweet flavor hit your tongue, and for a moment, you could almost imagine that you were back to being kids again—hanging out in the abandoned public pool, celebrating one of Oscar’s karting wins with ice cream from Uncle Roger’s, inciting chaos, and never ending laughter.

Breaking the stillness, Oscar’s voice came, quiet but steady. “How are you?”

It was a simple question that has an easy answer to it, but the question hung in the air, heavy despite its simplicity. You paused, gaze fixed on the sky above. After a moment, you decided to answer, keeping your tone light.

“I’m fine.”

Oscar turned his head towards you, his expression curious but patient, waiting for you to elaborate. You took another sip of your drink, stalling for time. Finally, you added, “you know, the usual. Just…life.”

It was not much of an answer to Oscar’s question, really, and you knew it. But it was the only answer that you were willing to give him. You’re glad that he didn’t push, though his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he looked back up the sky.

“Any plans?” he asked after a pause.

You exhaled softly, lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “Plans,” you repeated, as if testing the word. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ve stopped making them.”

Oscar’s brows furrowed slightly at your answer, and you felt his gaze on you again. You tilted your head back, eyes tracing the constellations.

“Plans are funny, you know?” you continued, voice thoughtful. “You make them, and then shit happens. Sometimes, you end up where you thought you’d be, and other times…” you trailed off, shrugging lightly.

Oscar tilted his head slightly, watching you.

You smiled faintly, letting out a soft laugh. “It’s like what I told you back then? Last time that we were here, on the exact same sunbeds we’re sitting on—wherever life takes me, right?”

He smiled at that, the memory lighting up his expression. “Wherever life takes you,” he repeated softly, as if testing the words in his own voice.

“You know…Lily’s amazing,” you said, tone light but sincere. “She’s a very lovely girl, Oscar. I mean, she’s gorgeous, obviously, but more than that. She’s kind, and has this certain warmth to her that makes it impossible not to like her.”

Oscar glanced at you, a small smile forming on his lips. “She really is,” he agreed softly, voice carrying a sense of pride.

You nodded, your own smile growing. “You two are like a perfect match. Yin and yang, you know? She really balances you out. You know that you’ve always been on the quieter side, but Lily brings out the best and talkative part of you.”

Oscar chuckled at your statement, eyes briefly meeting yours. “She definitely doesn’t let me stay quiet for long.”

You laughed softly, though your thoughts remained bittersweet. “I saw the way she looks at you,” you continued. “It’s so full of love. It’s the kind of look people dream of, you know? You’re really lucky to have her.”

His expression shifted slightly, as though he was not sure how to respond to the unexpected depth of your words. He gave a small nod, his smile turning a little shy.

“I’m proud of you, Oscar. Really.” you added, voice a little quieter now. “For finding someone like Lily. She’s good for you, and I’m happy knowing that she’ll be there for you.”

There was a pause before you continued on, tone suddenly turning more painful, though there was a weight beneath the lightness of it. “At least now I know that someone will be by your side when I’m gone.”

Oscar frowned slightly, he felt a little chill and was caught off guard by your words. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, confused.

You hesitated for a moment, quickly realizing how your words could have sounded. You forced a small laugh, hoping to brush it off. “I just mean, you know, since I had moved to Sydney,” you said, tone casual. “I’m not here anymore. I can’t be by your side like I used to back when we were kids.”

His expression softened, though he still seemed a little bit puzzled by your words. You just smiled softly, looking up again as you added, “but it’s okay. You’ve got Lily now, and she’s amazing. You’re in good hands.”

The walk back from the abandoned public pool was quiet. The kind of quiet that was not uncomfortable, but heavy with so many unspoken words. The sound of your boots scuffing against the pavement and the faint rustling of leaves in the cool night air were the only things breaking the silence. Your hand stayed inside the pockets of your black leather jacket, the smooth lining a small comfort against the cold night.

Oscar walked beside you, his own steps steady and unhurried. You could feel his presence, solid and familiar, yet neither of you made any effort to fill the stillness. There was nothing pressing to say, and perhaps, that was enough.

When you finally turned the corner leading back to your neighborhood, the headlights of your parent’s car came into view, cutting through the dim light of the street. Your parents were standing beside it, their postures relaxed but expectant, while Nicole leaned casually against the hood, arms crossed. As soon as they spotted you, your mother straightened up, relief softening her features.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, voice a mix of mild concern and amusement. “We were starting to wonder where you’d gone off to.”

Oscar was quick to answer, tone light and easy. “We were at Uncle Roger’s shop, just catching up.”

Your father nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips, while Nicole’s expression softened, her gaze flitting between you and Oscar. “It’s so good to see the two of you spending time together again,” she said warmly.

Your mother stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “We should get going, sweetheart,” she said softly, eyes kind but tired.

The goodbyes came swiftly after that, each one carrying its own weight. Nicole pulled you into a tight embrace, warmth and familiar scent grounding you for a moment. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she said, voice quiet but firm.

When Nicole let go, it was Oscar’s turn. He stepped closer, arms wrapping around you with a firmness that caught you off guard. It was not one of those quick, polite hugs—it was the kind of embrace that lingered, as if he were trying to hold onto something fleeting.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” he murmured, voice low and sincere. Then he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a small, boyish grin appearing on his face. “And you have to come to my race one of these days. No more excuses.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Alright, we’ll see,” you said lightly, though you both knew it was not a promise.

With that, you turned and walked towards the car. As you reach for the door handle, something makes you glance back over your shoulder. Oscar was still standing there, hands tucked into his pockets, watching you with an unreadable expression. You gave him a soft smile, lifting your hand in a casual salute. He returned the gesture, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Sliding into the backseat of the car, you buckle your seatbelt as your father starts the car. The low rumble of the engine filled the silence, and as the car began to pull away, you could not resist a one last look at Oscar through the rearview mirror. Oscar was still standing there, framed by the faint glow of the streetlights, his figure growing smaller and smaller until he disappeared from the view entirely.

You did not look back again, you never looked back. But something in you stirred—a quiet, unshakable feeling that this night, this moment, would never come again. Neither of you could have known that this would be the very last time you would see each other. The very last time Oscar would ever see you.

[chansdoll]

방찬 ─── kink headcanons

♡ a/n: i might make a part 2 idk yet. also mdni. ♡ this is a work of fiction and in no way portrays bangchan irl. this is just for fun. ♡ masterlist ♡ border by @firefly-graphics

bangchan is absolutely the type to try anything once. after all, he is the adventurous type. especially if you’ve been wanting to try it. like i’ve said before, that man wants to make you happy and will try almost anything to do so.

blood - chan didn’t think anything of a blood kink, that is until one day he was fucking you so good, so rough, that your razor sharp nails broke skin in multiple places that day. the pain alone made his body shudder in bliss, but feeling the blood run down his back as he pistoned inside you, it was inexplicably the best sensation he’d felt in a long time.  free use/somnophilia - due to his stressful work life, there were more times than not where he was too tired or held up with schedules to fuck you. and since you had your own life as well, it did make sex slightly more complicated. there came a time where you discussed free-use/somnophilia, and chan was intrigued by the idea. if he was too tired and didn't have the energy, or vice versa, you both gave each other the go to play with the other while asleep or half asleep.  spitting - when chan’s in his dirty, primal hard dom mood, he’s insatiable. though he tends to feel guilty afterwards, when he’s rough, he’s rough. degrading you, dumbifying you, spitting in your mouth, on your cunt. he even likes it when you return the foul gesture, spitting on his cock or onto his tongue. he even likes when he sees the spit dribble down your skin while you’re sucking him off or deepthroating him. biting - oh my god i’ve thought about this countless times. he wants to bite you, he wants to be bitten. the pain and the claiming involved is just too hot to him. he loves when you bite on his neck, or nip at the skin on his waist. or on his gorgeous, sinful plump lips. it earns phenomenal groans from his throat without fail. as for where he likes to bite–your thighs. he fucking loves your thighs. so plump and squishy, just the way he likes them. he also loves lavishing little nibbles on your breasts and nipples, as well as your neck.  choking/breath play -  once again, i’m a whore for rough chan. this is pretty self-explanatory. he loves to watch your eyes roll back and glaze over as he puts pressure on your throat. he always makes sure to apply just enough to make you go crazy, and he loves the way it leaves you basically boneless

breeding - girl.. if you don’t think chan has a breeding kink then wyd.  edging - i’ve said this before. chan is a tease. he wants to nearly torture you with pleasure–whether it be with toys, his hands, his mouth, or even his cock. he wants to make you squirm and cry and beg for release. he wants to be in control of your every orgasm. roleplay - like i’ve said before, chan is into trying anything. that’s why he’d be into roleplaying with you. his favorites are cop/suspect, massage therapist/patient, and boss/employee.

©chansdoll do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[n0tamused]

May I request headcanons about what Jiyan's, Aalto's, Calcharo's and Mortefi's favorite types of kisses are?

A/N: You certainly can! I can honestly write a small followup drabbles for these too when I get the time. These are just some short headcanons in the meantime <3 Hope you enjoy!

Content: fluff, sfw.

Ko-fi

Jiyan:

-While Jiyan isn’t too touchy in public, he doesn’t stray from some sweet little gestures of love like quick temple kisses or hand kisses

-He does them when he’s in a rush or when he just wants to show he loves you, while not being able to exactly “make out with you in broad daylight”

-The elderly that know him and happen to see him showing his affection like this don’t fail to swoon over how adorable you two are, praising you to no end and sometimes going really hard on teasing you. Some of them really have no chill-

-But in private, Jiyan loves to have you to himself, and his favorite kisses to give and receive are neck and on the lips kisses. 

-Whether it’d be you laying on his chest and leaving little butterfly kisses along his neck, or him having you underneath him, showering you with multiple kisses, trailing pecks up your neck until he reaches your lips, where he lingers for longer. 

-He loves showing you he loves you, especially since he never knows for how long he’ll stay on the front lines next, or if he’ll even return. Cherishing every single moment with you is his goal, burning those memories behind his eyelids of such intimate moments as these

Aalto:

-Aalto doesn’t shy away from PDA, but he still has manners! In public, his go-to kisses are cheek kisses. One hand holds you chin and he pressed his lips to your cheek and lets the kiss linger for a moment or two before parting 

-Sometimes, he likes to hold the kiss for a long period of time until you pry him off of you, trying to see for how long he can stay “latched onto you”. It’s a harmless little thing, and he loves how effortlessly it makes you giggle and blush as you swat him away like a fly

-In private, Aalto becomes softer, going for kissing your closed eyelids and mapping the lines of your face with his lips. It starts soft and innocent, the quiet embracing you as you hold the weight of his love in the palms of your hand, feeling it squeeze your lungs.

-But then his lips trace lower to his next favorite place to leave kisses on you, your collarbone.

-If he feels especially energetic or playful, he will bite down a bit, nibbling here and there to get his fix of you before he all but traps  you under him, his head on your chest as he pretends he’s knocked out cold.

Calcharo: 

-Calcharo is quite the simple man. Even if he is quite tense at the start of your relationship, he does begin to crave your touch and affections

-He does sometimes struggle to understand when it would be the best time to kiss you or touch you in any way, so the easiest approach he comes up with is greeting and parting kisses. When he’s already in your shared home and you’re coming up to greet him

-His arms are wrapping around you like a bear trap and he’s leaning down to kiss you on the lips, letting you both linger lip to lip before you part ways. 

-He may seem a bit rough with it but with a little bit of your help he does learn to soften up and leave feather light pecks on your lips after the initial one to soothe you over

-It becomes like a little ritual, every morning and evening it’s the same with him holding you close and letting his mind turn off for that short duration of the kiss

-Also does this in bed sometimes when you’re cuddling or if he’s having some trouble sleeping. Holding you helps ease him

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[https-milo]

so excited to know ur willing to do a jjk insta thing, can i pretty pretty please get a megumi one 💕💕

*rubs my hands in mischievous delight* i've been waiting to do a jjk insta thingy

DATING MEGUMI FUSHIGURO INSTAGRAM!

details!

Instagram posts w/ comments while dating Megumi Fushiguro

a/n OBVIOUSLY these are just pictures off of pinterest, reader can be however you imagine!

m. list

yappstery/n · 12w

1.8k likes Liked by yujiitadorki, modelnoba

yappstery/n wild yapper in a library for the first time in years 😣😣

fushiguro.m you like reading? yappstery/n fushiguro.m not really 😣 I have to studyyyy and our dear upperclassmen are being bullies and not helping me ://// fushiguro.m yappstery/n oh. what do you need help with? yappstery/n fushiguro.m literature :(((((^2 fushiguro.m yappstery/n come to my dorm. I'll help I guess. yappstery/n fushiguro.m SAY ON MY LIFE RN. fushiguro.m yappstery/n just get over here oml. no time for dramatics if you wanna pass.

thehonored1 get to work. stop procrastinating on instagram. yappstery/n thehonored1 I have some fighting words for you, sensei

yappstery/n · 10w

1.9k likes Liked by yujiitadorki, modelnoba, fushiguro.m, and makiz

yappstery/n our study hangouts have taken a floral shift since spring came :D

Tagged: fushiguro.m

yujiitadorki such a pretty princess fushiguro~~ yappstery/n yujiitadorki I know rightttt ;D fushiguro.m yujiitadorki you have 10 minutes. fushiguro.m yappstery/n i told you to delete this.

fushiguro.m i hope you fail the assignment. yappstery/n fushiguro.m then all our hard studying will be for not :(

yappstery/n · 9w

2.1k likes Liked by fushiguro.m, yujiitadorki, thehonored1, modelnoba, and inumakispeaks

yappstery/n sleeping on trains with the tutorrrrrrrr :DD 📸: modelnoba

modelnoba you're lucky my photography skills are so good yappstery/n modelnoba MWAH MWAH!! thanks nobs <33

fushiguro.m send this to me. yappstery/n fushiguro.m YES OFC

fushiguro.m · 7w

1.3k likes Liked by yujiitadorki, modelnoba, thehonored1, and makiz

fushiguro.m helping bae get his manga 😽😽 - Y/n

yappstery/n aww megs i cant believe you'd post me so cutely!! fushiguro.m yappstery/n k. yappstery/n fushiguro.m 😽😽😽😽

thehonored1 /makiz 20 bucks right NEOWWWW makiz thehonored1 there is a strong sense of hatred in my heart for you.

yappstery/n ·3w

2.1k likes Liked by yujiitadorki, thehonored1, makiz, modelnoba, and inumakispeaks

yappstery/n he surprised me with a cute little date in a forest! he let me yap to him for HOURS! it was so relaxing :( I love him so much <33

fushiguro.m listening to you talk is my favorite part of my day. all day, every day, any day yappstery/n fushiguro.m COME BACK HERE AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE BETWEEN KISSES RIGHT NOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW fushiguro.m yappstery/n omw nerd yappstery/n fushiguro.m ❤️❤️

todo.aoi does she have an unshakeable character? fushiguro.m todo.aoi absolutely.

© https-milo. please do not repost, steal, copy, or modify my works!

Thank you so much for reading <3

[writerastray]

Recreate

General Masterlist - Read this before interacting

Disclaimer:

⚠︎ My works are all protected. I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting. Please reblog if you want to share my work.

⚠︎ My work is only appropriate for adults over the age of 18. Ageless/blank blogs will be blocked.

-> Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/f!Reader

-> Word count: 4.2k

-> Rating: 18+→ Mature/Explicit

->Genre/Tropes: Romance, Mutual Pining, Romantic/Sexual Tension, One-shot, Fluff, Fun, (a sprinkle of angst), Smut. Other Additional Tags to Be Added. (Spoiler tags: Childhood Friends to Lovers.)

-> Warning tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Heartbreak, Writer's Block/Creative Struggles, Alcohol Consumption, Use of fake dagger? Other Additional Tags to Be Added.

-> Synopsis: Hyunjin, a successful author, can’t seem to write a decent romance scene anymore. When you, his childhood friend, visit him for the weekend and discover his creative block, you propose a bold solution: recreating the scenes together. The only catch? Hyunjin insists that you be his partner.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

The coffee shop was about to close.

The streets were a bit busy, as it was almost Christmas time. Most of the stores were filled with people rushing to buy last-minute gifts.

The cold wind carried the scent of witch hazel from the flower shop nearby, mixed with the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts and cinnamon from street vendors. Beneath the glow of streetlights, the snow sparkled like scattered diamonds, and laughter echoed as couples and families hurried by, their breath visible in the frosty air.

Your feet didn’t move as you saw Hyunjin at the counter, smiling at a young lady as he completed her payment. It hadn’t been long—just a year and a half, in fact—but it felt like years since you had last seen him. He reminded you so much of when he was younger: playful eyes, still flirty, and that sweet smile that never failed to make your stomach flip.

After countless copies of his books were sold, he still lived above the coffee shop. You remembered when he asked you to help him move there. You still had that bittersweet taste in your mouth after leaving Hyunjin by himself and returning to the countryside alone.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your bag and crossed the street. The bell above the door chimed as you entered, and warmth immediately wrapped around you. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee blended with the buttery scent of croissants and the sweet spice of cinnamon rolls. Your stomach growled in response.

You walked to the counter, and your gaze met Hyunjin’s.

His eyes widened briefly before a slow smile tugged at his lips. Surprise melted into something sharper, a piercing stare that almost stole your breath away.

Tilting his head, he asked, “Why is there a witch in my coffee shop?”

Want to keep reading? You can check it out on my AO3—just click this link to continue: Recreate🖤

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Author's note: Hi! I hope you liked this story. English is my second language, so please excuse my errors. Constructive feedback is always appreciated! I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting of my work.

Did you enjoy this? If so, please reblog it. Thank you for reading! Sending love 💕

Copyright © 2025 by Writerastray.

[gakukitty]

I mean… !! if you want to write smut… !! Shin nagumo & heisuke w a reader w a hiiighhhh sex drive? Like before them they were a little sex repulsed but now all they want to do is jump their bones.. no pressure but its stuck in my headdffh

again ?! — ★ smut mdni ! !

featuring . . . heisuke mashimo , nagumo yoichi , shin asakura <3 ( multi character , separate )

heisuke mashimo ★

heisuke really doesn’t know how it got this bad. when the two of you both started dating, you didn’t seem all that interested in sex. that little scrunch in your nose whenever he’d mention it told him everything he needed to know; until your first time. ever since then, it feels like you’re trying to make up for all that time lost ! your hips shift against his, your body perched on top of heisukes as sunlight filters through the blinds from your bedroom window. you just hum as heisuke wakes up, pressing a soft kiss to his nose.

“heisuke,” you mumble quietly, your breath brushing lightly against his ear. the man in question makes a small sound him response, his hips snapping up slightly against yours. he lifts his hands, clutching at your waist.

“huh..?” he trails off sleepily, eyes slowly blinking awake. that’s when he realises what’s going on— you’re on top of him again. just like you were last night; “heisukeeee, stop looking so goooodd..” you had said. his cheeks flush lightly at the memory— hold on, how are you already horny this early in the morning? heisuke doesn’t really mind it, your sex drive that seems to get higher and higher each day, but he has to admit it makes him feel a bit embarrassed.

he doesn’t question it, though; and he’d never, ever dare to assume that.. maybe you’re just horny for him. either way, he’s happy to let you use him to get off whenever you please :33

nagumo yoichi ★

your boyfriend was more than happy to respect your wishes when you told him that sex wasn’t exactly your thing. the man flashed you a smile, assuring you that he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it and force you into anything that you didn’t want.

so, it’s safe to say that he was caught by surprise when your hands found his belt one night. nagumo was even more surprised when he found out you’re surprisingly good at this all— you rode him like a fuckin’

champ! even the memory never fails to being a smile to his face.

so why are you crawling back onto his lap right after? and how come this has become a common occurrence? nagumo rarely gets a break now— he almost feels like a damn fucktoy for you!! but to be honest? he wouldn’t have it any other way. not when you’re moaning his name every night, hands clutching at his chest and shoulders, lips kissing at his jaw and neck. yeah, this is the life.

shin asakura ★

“again—? name, this is the third time today— oh,” shin’s cut off by your lips on his neck, and the poor man lets out a soft moan at the feeling. his hands find your hips, the tips of his ears flushing lightly. honestly, shin doesn’t really understand how you made such a big change in such a small amount of time— but he has a vague idea that makes his cheek burn a cute shade of pink. so, shin’s alright with giving into your little requests whenever you ask. “one more time.” the man mutters softly, leaning in to give you a small kiss on the lips.

unfortunately; it wasn’t just one more time. as soon as shin thought you were finished, you’re already rising up like a damn zombie ! though, he has to admit— it’s sort of endearing seeing you so excited to please him— and yourself, of course.

shin gets a little flustered with it all, but he loves you— and he is always happy to give you what you want. even if he feels like his dick is falling off by the end of the month.

© gakukitty please don’t copy my work , repost it and claim as your own , translate , or use it to train ai ♡

[callalillywrites]

A Stuck Zipper

This story is actually a longer, spin-off version of an older post response. It was meant to be a Christmas/Wintery story, but I missed that mark a little bit. It's okay though because I had a lot of fun writing this. I'm sure I can come up with something for Steve (and a couple others before the end of the year). I do hope you enjoy this story as much as I did writing it.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Relationship: Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader

Word Count: ~2100

Summary: It's the night of the biggest party of the year. You've been working alongside Pepper and Nat to ensure this party goes well. What you don't count on is a stuck zipper. At least, you're married to a man with a plan who's never failed to let you down.

Warnings: mostly fluff

A/N: This is my first fic since melting down last month, so please be kind to me as I try to get back into the swing of things again. I do hope this is the first of many more stories to come along with some older ones to join its ranks once more as well.

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

****

“It’s stuck.”

You tried to turn around at Nat’s words, but she stopped you before you could wrench the tiny zipper from her hands.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t heard the smallest shreds as the zipper caught the delicate fabric and refused to let go. It’s just that this couldn’t be the thing that went wrong tonight. Of all your planning with Nat and Pepper to make this event the talk of the year, you couldn’t afford to be brought low because of a measly zipper on one of the most expensive gowns you’ve ever owned.

“How bad is it?” you asked though you couldn’t be sure you wanted to know.

Nat didn’t immediately answer, which was answer enough.

“Can we pin it or something?”

A glance at Nat’s pinched features in the mirror sent a shiver of dread down your spine.

The party would start any minute. Not only would your dress keep you from your duties, you would miss out on seeing the one person you’ve been wanting to see the past few weeks. Oh, you’d missed him something fierce while he’d been away, and now you couldn’t be certain you’d have the reunion you wanted with him.

This was supposed to be one of your biggest nights, too.

How were you going to explain your absence? How could you leave Nat and Pepper to fend for themselves? Then again, how were you supposed to help if your dress’s darn zipper was stuck halfway up your back.

In your current self-pitying state, you almost missed the way Nat’s face smoothed. Her hand had gone to the small ear comm she wore, holding it as she listened to Pepper on the other end.

You had one, too, but you’d taken it out after it started bugging you. The intention had been to replace it after you’d gotten dressed and had no more time for yourself before the party started. That had fallen by the wayside when your dress had pulled its dirty trick and kept you standing in front of your mirror debating your options.

Whatever Pepper told Nat soon tugged her signature smirk over her features, replacing her previous frown.

“Pepper is sending us reinforcements,” she said after a moment, her hand dropping from the comm.

The smirk remained as the two of you waited for whoever Pepper had sent to save the day.

Within minutes, said savior arrived.

You couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past your lips as you took in the only man that’s held your attention and your heart for so many years.

His new suit fit him to perfection, but then, you had no doubt it would after sending his measurements to the best tailor New York City had to offer. The dark navy made his blue eyes pop while the silver vest beneath his jacket brought out the sparkle you so adored whenever he glanced at you.

“Hello, sweetheart,” his deep voice echoed softly through the room. “I heard you could use my expertise.”

Nat, not at all offended at being ignored, deepened her smirk as she moved toward the open doorway. It didn’t seem to matter how much your man filled it, blocking her. Having fought at his side longer than you have, it didn’t take much for her to slip past him. Then again, that could be her spy training more than her comfort at being one of his Avenger coworkers.

As if her disappearance gave him further permission, he stepped into the room, quickly closing the distance. He didn’t stop until only a mere foot separated you. His slacks brushed the outer layers of your dress’s full skirt.

“You look ravishing, sweetheart,” he murmured, his gaze missing nothing of the silver dress you wore with the navy lace creating intricate snowflake patterns.

Putting up a hand to keep him at bay, you raised a brow. “And you, Mr. Rogers, have been hanging out with Sam and Bucky too much if you’re using ‘ravishing’ as a word to compliment me. You’re going to behave until after this party is over. Do we understand each other?”

“You are married to Captain America, sweetheart. I’m the very beacon of honor and virtue.” He held up his hand as though he were a Boy Scout though his gaze continued to twinkle. His lips twitched with the amusement he wasn’t trying too hard to conceal.

You simply shook your head. “No, I married Steven Grant Rogers. You’re the epitome of a punk from Brooklyn just as your best friend has always claimed. Never back down from a fight even when you should and have a mouth that could make a sailor blush on a good day.”

“Is that so?”

It was his turn to raise his brows though his amusement remained.

Knowing what he wanted to hear next, you sent him a softer smile, indulging him. After all, you two have done this little dance since not long after the two of you fell in love. Reaching out, you rested your hand over the small pocket of his suit jacket. His heart beat steadily beneath your palm, relaxing you as it always did.

Even as you nodded in affirmation, you added, “Yet, you’re also the man with a heart of pure gold and always help your friends and family whenever they need you. I didn’t marry the perfect soldier the U.S. Army wanted, but the good man you are and will always be. My life has been better for knowing you, and I fall more in love with you every day.”

His amusement melted into such warmth and affection that you knew he’d behave for at least a little while.

“What do you need, Mrs. Rogers?”

Pressing the softest kiss you could to his lips and not mess up your pristine makeup, you flashed him a grin before turning around to show him your dilemma.

“It’s stuck. I can’t see the problem, and Nat’s face told me pinning wouldn’t work.”

Steve’s warm fingers brushed against your skin as he inspected the ornery zipper. He tugged gently, but the stubborn slider refused to budge. Another tiny rip of the delicate fabric reached your ears a moment before Steve raised apologetic eyes to yours in the mirror in front of you.

“Nat’s probably right, sweetheart, but…”

His brows knitted together as he continued to stare at your current predicament.

After several seconds, his brows smoothed and his gaze met yours once more. Inspiration had hit him in a way that never fails to take your breath away. Always the man with a plan, he didn’t hesitate in coming up with some unique solutions to even the most basic of problems.

“You still have your emergency sewing kit in your purse?”

You nodded.

He stepped away and picked up your purse. His gaze met yours for permission before he opened up the main flap. Always the gentleman. His hand felt around the few contents until it encountered the little tin he sought. The same little tin you inherited from your grandmother after she passed a few years ago. You never failed to update the kit with threads for whatever outfit you and Steve wore that day from your rather vast collection of sewing threads.

As he held up the little tin with a small triumphant grin, you thanked whatever gods were listening that you’d remembered to update it that morning with what you’d need for your evening attire as well.

“Stay perfectly still for me, sweetheart,” he murmured after threading the needle with the necessary thread and stepped behind you again.

You did as he asked. It took everything in you not to peek over your shoulder to see exactly what he was doing. Instead, you had to settle with feeling his fingers brush against you now and then, sending delicious shivers down your spine even as he worked diligently at your dress.

After what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than five minutes, he tied off the thread and snapped the extra with little effort. Turning you so your back faced the mirror, he nodded towards his work. “What do you think?”

It took a bit to get the right angle and see what he’d done.

When you did, you couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past your lips. The stuck zipper remained in place, but the rest of your dress had been perfectly and almost seamlessly stitched closed. Only some nosy person would notice the zipper wasn’t all the way up with the way Steve had stitched your dress closed. You could barely make out the stitches he placed.

Meeting his gaze in the mirror, you blurted, “Where did you learn to sew? How did I not know this about you after all these years?”

Steve’s cheeks flushed at the awe in your voice.

“We didn’t have a lot of clothing options back then as there are today. My ma worked hard to provide me with what she could. I used to watch her doctor clothes for my smaller frame whenever she could afford to get me something new.”

His gaze took on a wistful expression as he remembered his old life and his mother.

You turned so you could rest your hands on his chest, offering him what comfort you could. He didn’t talk about his past as often as you thought he should, but you never pushed him, either. Not wanting to miss out on this new opportunity, you remained quiet.

A small grin spread across his features as he indeed continued.

“Well, I wasn’t one to take precautions with my clothes, either. Most of us boys didn’t. I probably should’ve for my ma’s sake, but I always got myself into one scuffle or another as you’re aware. Most often, I’d end up with a rip in either my shirt or pants. Sometimes, both. Not wanting to upset my ma, I used the little bit of knowledge I’d gained by watching her to start mending my clothes myself. It was better than asking her to do more for me when she was already doing so much.”

His grin softened as more memories seemed to surface.

“My first attempts were awful, but then, boys didn’t typically do what they considered girl chores back then. I got better over time. I even helped Bucky out a time or two when he needed it. Some way, I guess, to repay him for always looking out for me, too. It was better than the tongue lashing he would’ve gotten from his own ma for getting me out yet another bind.”

Unable to resist the desire, you rose up and pressed another soft kiss to his lips.

“What was that for?” he asked though his eyes glowed with warmth and a mirrored desire.

You brought one of your hands up to cup his cheek as you whispered, “Just because you’re you.”

As you moved to lower yourself, Steve followed you until he leaned into your space and took a swift but no less chaste kiss for himself.

“I love you, too, Mrs. Rogers.”

The two of you gathered up the rest of your items for the evening, including the masks you had made to match your outfits.

After all, the party was a masquerade. Tony had declared it so when he announced wanting to throw a holiday party for the Avengers and other important guests. At least, he left you, Pepper, and Nat to work out all the other details to make this night a spectacular one. It would certainly be one to remember after all your hard work and theirs.

As the two of you walked towards the elevators, a thought struck you.

Turning your head to look at your husband, you asked low enough so any others wouldn’t overhear, “How exactly am I getting out of this dress later?”

The smirk you’ve come to know and love appeared on Steve’s face. He helped you onto the elevator as the doors opened. His arm came around you as he held you close to his side. Only as the doors were closing did he bend down to whisper, “Don’t worry about that, sweetheart. I’ve got a plan that will not only get you out of that dress but will satisfy us both before the sun comes up tomorrow.”

His lips skimmed along your neck until he reached the spot where it met your shoulder. A slight stinging nip of his teeth sent a tingling shiver down your spine. The promise clear in his action as his hand tightened at your waist.

The party, while an amazing success of your hard work, paled in comparison to the hours after where Steve lived up to his sensual promise in the elevator. It would be a night you wouldn’t soon forget.

[wwilsonbarness]

sweetie

pairings: dbf!bucky x y/n reader

summary: after yet another failed date your dad’s best friend Bucky cheers you up.. 

warnings: smut 18+ only (unprotected sex, oraL (M & F receiving), fingering, creampie, cockwarming, praise kink, safe word(mentioned not used), innocence kink), age gap (reader is early twenties, bucky is mid 40’s), use of pet names, swearing, body shaming (not from reader or bucky), insecure thoughts (reader) - let me know if I missed any :)

word count: 4092

a/n: I’m a slut for dbf!bucky so I had to use him for my first time writing smut🤭 go easy on me please i tried😭

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist 

“Y/n?” 

“Yeah! Hey, Ryan right?” He just nodded and sat opposite you, clearly not caring he had shown up 20 minutes late. .

“You’re not what I expected” he tried to play it off with a chuckle but you just looked at him in shock, completely confused.

“What were you expecting?” 

“Someone a little.. you know” he pauses for a moment and looks you up and down before continuing, “it doesn’t matter” Before you could question what he meant you hear a familiar voice come from behind you. 

“Y/n, how are you sweetheart?” As you go to turn your head you feel a cold hand on your shoulder, instantly telling you who was there. 

“Buck! What are you doing here?” 

“I’m picking up some dinner on the way home from work, just spotted you two over here and thought I’d say hi” He looks over at your date with a slight smile. Bucky had always been protective over you, ever since he started working with your dad, he’d always be over at your house for some reason or another, but you’d never complain. You’ve secretly been crushing on him for a while now, there was just something about him that you loved, not to mention he was the hottest guy you’ve ever seen. 

“Oh right, sorry! This is Ryan, my date” You point your hand towards him, “Ryan, this is Bucky, one of my dad’s friends” Ryan stands up and holds his hand out waiting for Bucky to shake it. 

“Nice to meet you Bucky” So he doesn’t lack all respect it seems.

“Call me James” He tightly squeezes Ryan’s hand, maybe too hard as Ryan tries to pull away slightly. You couldn’t help the blush creeping up onto your face. Bucky only introduced himself as James to people he didn’t like, come to think of it you had only heard him introduce himself as James a few times. Once when you brought a boy home in your first year of college, to the creepy neighbours who moved into your street whilst Bucky was over for dinner and one of his colleague’s. He must have a good judge of character because all of those people turned out to be total dicks. 

“Well, I won’t take up any more of your time, have a good night you two” He leans down to give you a hug, and whispers into your ear, just loud enough so Ryan can hear. “See you later sweetheart” He turns to Ryan and nods before leaving. You feel your mood drop as he walks away, you were sad that he was leaving, especially with it meaning you were stuck with your sad excuse for a date. You pick up the menu and go to ask what he’s thinking of getting before the waitress interrupts.

“Ready to order?” Before you can respond asking for an extra few minutes Ryan answers for you. 

“I’ll have the pasta special  and she’ll have the chicken salad.'' You shoot him a confused look, similar to the look the waitress is giving you both. You couldn’t believe he was ordering for you, and ordering you a salad at that. God, you could not wait for this night to be over already. 

Surprisingly the conversation from there wasn’t that bad, he asked you about your job to which you explained the recent job you’d gotten as an elementary school teacher. Things were looking up until your food arrived. “I hope you didn’t mind me ordering for you, salad is always a safe choice, you know?”

“Do you have a problem with how I look or something?” He didn’t even seem shocked or embarrassed when you asked. 

“I’ve just never dated someone as big as you”

“what?” Was he serious right now? You’d gained a little weight recently due to stress eating but you didn’t think other people would notice, or point it out.

“Do you not think you could lose a few pounds? You’d look so much better, especially with a dress like that on.” You could feel the tears forming in your eyes as he spoke, little droplets gathering on your eyelashes. You tried to stop your voice from shaking before answering him. 

“I don’t think this is gonna work out” 

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “God. Women are so sensitive these days” You didn’t want to show him how he was affecting you so you grab your jacket and walk out without looking back. You’re only outside for a couple minutes before you hear that voice again, along with a car horn. You lift your head up and see Bucky parked just ahead of you.

“You okay sweets?” 

“Buck, you’re still here?” you begin to walk towards him.

“Mhm, food took a while to come out. What’s wrong, are you okay?” 

You quickly wiped away the tears that were rolling down your cheeks “I’m fine, just wanna get home” 

“Hop in, I’ll give you a ride home” 

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna-“

“Don’t be silly, you know I don’t mind” you force a small smile out before making your way to the passenger side. 

“How was your date?” You turn to him with a look that makes it clear it was not a good time. 

“He was an ass” His gaze softens on you and he puts his hand onto your thigh and rubs circles over it with his thumb. 

“I knew it” He notices you trying to smile and softens his tone, “I’m sorry sweetie, come on I’ll take you home” 

“Thank you” He softly squeezes your thigh before moving his hand to focus on driving you home. You missed his touch already, it made you feel safe like you had someone who cared but it also excited you, making your body heat up. You quickly threw that idea out, he was your dads best friend, he would never think of you that way. 

Your apartment isn’t far away, the car journey only lasts around 10 minutes. It was a mostly quiet car ride, Bucky didn’t try and make you open up about your date but he was worried, you seemed really upset with whatever had happened. “Are you sure you're okay?” 

You tried to answer without letting your shaky voice show but you failed, “I just wanna get in and get changed out of this dress” You rub your hands over your dress to try and make yourself look better, you couldn’t help but think you looked bad after Ryan spoke about you like that. When Bucky parks outside your apartment you sit  in silence for a moment, you didn’t want to get out because it meant Bucky would be leaving you. “Do you want to bring your food in? It’ll be cold by the time you get back to yours” 

“That would be great, if you don’t mind” 

“Course not Buck” You both get out and walk up to your door. Bucky noticed you playing with your dress on the way, “you look real pretty in that dress” You turned to him as he spoke to you, surprised with what he said.

“Really? I thought I liked it too but, I, I don’t know” you trailed off slowly. 

“Whatever that asshole said to you, don’t listen to him. You look great” 

“Thank you Buck but you really don’t have to say that” 

“I mean it sweetheart, you look gorgeous” You smile up at him, a little less forced this time. It takes you a minute to compose yourself and find your keys but you finally manage to unlock the door.

“Sit down, I’ll get you a plate” 

“Bring two” he shouts through from the couch to your kitchen. 

“Okayy” you're slightly confused but take two plates out the cupboard along with two beers from the fridge, “but why do you need two?” 

“So you can have some” you weren’t in the restaurant too long, did you eat anything?” 

You were tempted to pretend you weren’t hungry but you really were starving. “Is there enough to share? I left before I could eat my salad” 

“Salad? you went to an italian restaurant and ordered salad?" Bucky laughed. 

“He ordered for me” Bucky stopped laughing as soon as the words left your mouth, and he started shaking his head. 

“What a dick, here” he unpacks his bag of food and lays them on the table in front of you both. “help yourself to as much as you like, lucky for you my eyes are too big for my belly” 

“So where'd you find this guy anyway?” 

You sat on the sofa for an hour or so and explained the whole story, including everything that happened on the date. By the end of it Bucky was angry, angrier than you’d ever seen him. He pulls his hand up to your face and cups your cheek, “Don’t let some boy make you feel insecure, you don’t need to change for anyone, and anyone would be lucky to have you” 

No one had ever spoken to you with such kind words and you could feel the tears forming again, you tried to play it off. You were embarrassed for being so emotional. “I’m sorry, just no one ever speaks about me like that” 

“You deserve to hear it everyday, and I really mean that” 

“Thank you buck, and thank you for sharing your food.” 

“Anytime sweetie” 

“I’m gonna go get changed and then I’ll clean this up okay?” 

“Sure, take your time” 

Only a couple minutes pass before Bucky hears you calling his name from your bedroom. 

“Y/n? are you alright” worry had set in fast, faster than it probably should’ve but he cared about you alot. he practically ran through, only stopping when he walked into you. 

“Where's the fire jesus” he puts his hands on your shoulders to try and steady you both. 

“I heard you calling my name, are you alright?” you couldn’t help but smile at his concern for you, it was nice to have someone who cared for you. 

“I’m okay, my hair’s just stuck in my zip, can you help me with it?” you reply as you walk back into your room, Bucky following you close behind. 

“Yeah, come here” you turn your back to him and lift your hair that isn’t stuck out of the way” 

“We might just have to cut it off” you playfully slapped his arm. 

“You wouldn’t dare” he places his hands to your hair and begins to work its way out, the touch of his fingers sends shivers all over you, you try to stifle the moan you make but you can tell you failed. 

“I'm just kidding don’t worry, there you go that should be it out” he says but he doesn’t move his hands. instead he turns you around and looks into your eyes. “You really are beautiful, especially in this dress” he loves to lean into your neck and whispers quietly, “even if I would prefer to see it on the floor” Yet again you couldn’t stop the blush appearing onto your cheeks, did he really say that?

You pull your head back a bit, Bucky starts to think he made you uncomfortable but it was quite the opposite, you pull his face towards you and push your lips together, it was a deep kiss, slow with an intensity you hadn’t felt before. You begin to pull away slowly, scared of overstepping but he pulls you back up against him, his hand cupping your hair, not too tight so you could pull away if you wanted to. His lips were soft, different to what you expected but it felt good. He pulls away slightly, but you can feel his grin against you. 

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that”  he says whilst catching his breath. 

“Really?” he hums in agreement. “What else did you want to do?” you feel his grin grow even more. He pushes you back a bit towards your bed and you follow him. 

“You sure you want to do this?” 

“I’m sure Bucky, please” 

“Just say red if you want to stop, okay?” you nod your answer. “I need words sweetie” 

“Yes buck” 

“Good girl” you can feel your panties getting wetter the more he talks to you, you desperately need him to touch you. 

“Bucky please” he could hear the desperation in your voice and it made him laugh, he loved having this effect on you. 

“What do you want, sweetheart? tell me what you want me to do to you” You got shy all of a sudden and it took a minute to find your words. 

“I want you to touch me” Bucky trails his hand down your body and stops between your legs. 

“Here?” he rubs circles over your clit through your dress making you moan and grab into his shoulder. 

“Fuck.. please Bucky” he takes his hand away, you pout up at him. 

“Take off your dress. and lie down” you do as he says, as he watches you with a grin on his face. It doesn’t take you long before you're laying down and Bucky crawls on top of you. He starts to kiss your neck, slowly making his way down to your breasts. “Can I leave this on?” he asks pointing to your bra, you just nod. Thank god you chose this lingerie set today. “You look so sexy in it, making me so hard baby” You let out a little laugh at him,”You’ve gone all shy on me sweets” 

“I'm sorry” Bucky shakes his head.

“Don’t apologise, it’s cute” He continues kissing you slowly, stopping when gets to the band of your panties. He begins to slowly take them off, “still okay?” 

“Yes, please buck. I need you” you whisper to him. 

He throws your panties onto the floor and opens your legs, biting his lips as he sees your pussy glistening in front of him. “Such a pretty pussy”

He lowers his head down and licks his lips before rubbing his fingers over your pussy, collecting the slick already gathered there. He brings his fingers up to his mouth and slowly licks them. “You taste so sweet baby” you feel your cheeks flush at his compliments, “Sweetest thing I ever tasted” he speaks before lowering his head back down. 

He presses his finger to your clit and pushes down a little, making you whimper. “Bucky please” you try to roll your hips up to get him closer to you. “Please buck i need you”

He doesn’t say anything but in the next second you feel his tongue against you. “Fuck Bucky” it was so much better than you were expecting. 

“Aw sweets, you're so wet. Is this all for me?” you nod again, biting your lip. He had hardly touched you and you already felt better than you ever have with anyone else. 

You tried to close your legs to escape the overwhelming feeling but Bucky pushed them open again and looked up to you. this was something you’d dreamt of seeing, having him looking up to you from between your legs. you couldn’t believe this was really happening.

“Gotta keep them open baby, so I can make you feel good” you nod down at him, as you nod he teases his finger around your pussy making you throw your head back. 

He lowers his head again and brings his tongue to your clit and begins to roll his tongue over it. You start to move around, the feeling is too much, he lifts his arm up to your stomach and presses down slightly to stop you from squirming. He uses his other hand to tease your pussy, “Fuck, your so tight sweetie”, he lifts himself up a little and brings his hand to your mouth and holds out two fingers. “Spit on them” you hesitate at first before dropping your spit onto them. 

When he gets back done to your legs he lightly blows on your clit, making you moan out. He begins to tease your hole and starts putting one finger in, slowly, “Fuck, i can’t wait to get my cock in you baby, your so tight” he pushes his finger in and out slowly a few times before adding in another. You can’t help the moan that leaves your lips. you don’t care how loud you’re being, it feels too good.You could feel the ache in your pussy getting stronger, your orgasm fast approaching, you’d never come this fast before. 

“Bucky, please don’t stop” he doesn’t stop, he speeds his fingers up feeling you tightening around them. “Oh.. Fuck. Bucky please I'm gonna- I’m gonna come. Don’t stop” you throw your hands around you, grabbing onto the covers and squeezing them as hard as you can.

“Come for me baby” a few more thrusts of his fingers and you come, your eyes roll back, your orgasm leaving you whimpering, Bucky drops his head down and licks your come. “How do you feel sweetie?”

“Good” is all you can manage, still trying to catch your breath. 

“You did so good baby” he crawls back up to you and plants a kiss on your lips, you can taste yourself on him. You feel his cock through his jeans touching your stomach and reach down for it. 

“Bucky?” you ask shyly. 

“Yeah baby?” he pushes your hair out of your face and cups your cheek.

“Can I touch you?” you slightly squeeze his bulge as you ask, batting your eyelashes up at him. 

He chuckles a little at how shy you are. “Of course you can sweets” he lays down beside you and guides you to sit up beside him. you start to unzip his jeans pull them down before he lifts his hips up making it easier for you to remove his clothes. When his jeans are off you see his cock jump up, it was a lot bigger than you had ever seen before. nerves started to slowly set in, what if you couldn’t make him feel as good as he made you? 

It was as if Bucky could read your mind, he saw the concern in your eyes and started to reassure you. “Sweetie, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to” 

“I want to” you reply quickly before quieting down and slowly continuing “I just don’t know if it will be as good as you made me feel, I don’t wanna disappoint you” 

“You could never disappoint me baby, I'll help you if you need it okay?” you nod your head, and trail your fingers up his thighs before reaching for him. You grab the base of his cock, your hand doesn’t reach around it fully so you bring your other hand beside it. “Fuck baby, that already feels so good” his praise gave you a bit more confidence. Quickly gathering some spit in your mouth, you drop it down onto the tip of his cock, and use your thumb to rub circles over it. He was feeling so sensitive he couldn’t stop his groans leaving him, “fuck Y/N, keep doing that” you did just that, whilst your other hand slowly rubs up and down his cock. 

“Can I put it in my mouth?” Bucky's a bit taken aback by your sudden confidence but he doesn’t hesitate to answer. 

“Please do” you move closer to him and settle between his legs, you lower your head down and lick his tip gently before bringing your tongue down to the base and working your way back up slowly. “Fuck, baby you keep doing that and your gonna make me come.” His praise was making your cheeks flush and he noticed, so he kept going. “Baby you're doing so good, it feels so. fuck. so good” You begin to put his cock in your mouth, going as far down as you could before bobbing your head up and down. Bucky places his hand on your head and slightly pushes your head down further, “fuck sweetheart, your gonna make me come.” 

You speed up, wrapping your hands around his shaft where your mouth can’t reach, Bucky was moaning and whining loudly beside you, his breathing was speeding up. You could tell he was about to come, you wanted him to come in your mouth, you needed to taste him.

“Baby, I’m gonna come, oh god I’m gonna come” he expected you to pull away from him but you keep going until his come shoots down your throat. “Fuck baby, fuck that was good” you look up to him, come dripping out your mouth and smile. “You look so pretty covered in my come sweetheart” He smirks at you, making you blush yet again. You use your finger to collect the come dripping out your mouth and suck on it, which makes Bucky’s cock twitch. 

You look down and see that he’s still hard, so you crawl up to him and whisper into his ear “could you fuck me?” so quietly he hardly hears you. 

“Sweetie you gotta speak up” you pout at him, but repeat yourself. You could feel your pussy throbbing, you needed him inside you. 

“I want you to fuck me Bucky, please” He turns to you

“Lie down” you immediately do as he says. “I’m gonna fuck you like the good, dirty girl you are” he grabs his cock and stroked himself a couple times to get it ready for you. “Remember to use the safe word if you need me to stop okay?” 

“I remember, but please just fuck me. I need you” he brings his cock to your pussy, pushing just the tip in. “Go slow please, you're bigger than I’ve ever had” Bucky felt a hint of jealousy over the thought of anyone else being inside you but he pushed it aside and focused on you. 

“I’ll be gentle don’t worry sweetheart” He brings his tip out and pushes slowly back in a couple times, letting you adjust to him. When it becomes easier he goes in deeper, nearly halfway in. You moan in the mix of pain and pleasure, he was stretching

you but it felt good. 

“Fuck Bucky, you feel so good, keep going please” He pushes in further, rubbing circles over your clit as he does, making it easier for him to fit inside you. 

“Shit baby, you're so tight. squeezing my cock so good” He hadn’t even fucked you properly yet and you could already feel your orgasm coming close. 

“Bucky fuck me please, just fuck me” he bottoms out inside of you, hitting a spot you didn’t even realise existed within you. “OH my god Bucky, keep going. please. It feels so good” 

“Such a good girl for me, taking my whole cock” your moans make him fuck you harder, chasing the release he so desperately needed “So good sweets, you feel so good” 

“Fuck, Bucky. duck me harder please Bucky” 

“You want more?” he thrusts into you harder as he says each word. “Fuck, you’re gonna milk my cock” you can feel your orgasm coming at you with full force.

“Buck I’m gonna -fuck I’m gonna come, don’t stop please” 

“Aw baby you gonna come all over my cock?”  you nod your head, unable to form words at this point “oh fuck. you're squeezing me so tight I’m gonna come. You want me to come inside you? Want me to fill you up?” 

You nod quickly, trying to bring yourself to speak. “Please, please Bucky come inside me please” 

“Always using your manners, sweets, even when you're so drunk on my cock hmm?” You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards you.

“Bucky please” you were desperate for your release at this point. He lifts your hands and puts them either side of you, each of his hands pinning yours down and towering himself over you. 

“Oh fuck. Come with me baby. Come with me” He’s thrusting into you so hard, hitting that spot again and again. Your legs begin to shake as your orgasm crashes through you. “Fuckk.. Oh my god Bucky” 

“So. Fucking. Good.” he replies, just as his cock crashes into your pussy. “You milked me so good, such a good girl baby” 

Bucky goes to pull out of you but you stop him, “stay like this please? Just for a little bit”

He cuddles into you as close as he can without moving out of you, and places a kiss on your forehead.

“Anything for you sweetheart”

[writerslittlelibrary]

Wasn't she sixteen...?

masterlist

summary: when you are on a mission with your uncle Steve, you accidentally become part of a large, secret Hydra experiment, and suddenly, you return to the compound as a toddler…

pairing: Winterwidow x adopted daughter teen/toddler reader

warnings: none I think

genre: fluff

words: 3333

a/n: I remember reading something with the reader turning into a toddler a long time ago, and the idea always stuck with me. I figured it would be really cute to do it with an adopted reader, because it means that Natasha and Bucky have never taken care of a toddler

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

A simple mission. That is what Fury said. A simple data collection. In and out. 

“Simple,” Steve scoffed as her carried a sleeping 2 year old in his arms. As it turns out, the mission was not as simple as Fury had initially stated. The Hydra base was in fact, not empty, and you, were in fact, not ready. 

Fury had assured Natasha and Bucky you would be fine. You had been with the Avengers since you were 11. You had been fighting your entire life before that, and now you were with the Avengers and all you wanted was to follow in the footsteps of your adoptive parents. 

Natasha and Bucky couldn’t be more proud, yet they also couldn’t be more worried. 

You had never been on a mission before. Natasha and Bucky deemed them to dangerous, and you were only 16. They didn’t want you on missions until you were at least a legal adult.

You were upset of course when they told you, but it didn’t take you long before you understood. Missions were dangerous, and despite your upbringing, you were simply not ready yet. 

However, when Fury came to Natasha and Bucky with a file, which contained an easy mission, they decided you were allowed to go.

It would be a quick in and out mission. There wouldn’t be any danger and your uncle Steve would be with you. Everything would be fine, except it wasn’t.

The mission appeared to be more complicated than Fury had originally thought, and the Hydra base seemed to be anything but abandoned. The scouts Fury had sent out prior to the mission had been deceived. It was a trap, for you.

You had Steve had gone inside the base, finding the control room and copying the data.

However, when you were copying the data Steve heard strange noises coming from the hallway. He told you to stay put and finish the data transfer while he went to check.

You did as he said, continuing to transfer all the data from the computer. 

However, once the screen displayed 100 percent, all electricity in the room fell away. The door fell shut, and a red light was all that lit up the room. 

You pulled the usb out of the computer in a haste, trying to see if you could get the door open. You were unsuccessful, and despite your training, you were starting to panic. You could hear grunts and blows landing not far from your location and so you figured Steve was fighting off multiple Hydra agents. 

After you unsuccessfully tried to open the door, you took a step back, taking a deep breath and emptying your mind. You tried to remember what you father told you.

“Don’t dwell on situations gone wrong. Accept the unexpected. Don’t stand around whining. Try to find another way.” 

You could hear your father’s voice in your head, repeating the things he had taught you. Don’t dwell on the situation, you repeated in your head as you turned around, scanning the room to try and find something else that could help you. 

It didn’t take long before you spotted the end of a vent in the ceiling, and after pushing the large computer from the desk, you moved it over to the wall. 

You climbed to stand on top of the desk as you inspected the vent, figuring you could fit through if you managed to get it open. 

The metal was screwed into the wall rather tightly, and the vent wouldn’t budge as you tried your best to pull it open. While focusing on the vent, you failed to notice Steve trying to talk to you through the door.

Once you heard him yell your name, you turned around, jumping off the desk and making your way to the door. 

“It’s a trap! They’re gonna do something to you!” you heard Steve yell as he tried to get the door open. He too failed to open the door, despite his super soldier serum. 

You ran back to the desk, climbing on it once more and trying to open the vent with much more force than before. This was supposed to be an easy mission. You wanted to make your parents proud. You’ll be damned if you get trapped back with Hydra because of it. 

However, after you tried your absolute best to get the vent open, you still failed, and the red lights in the room started to flicker as an alarm could be heard. 

Smoke started to fill the room and you tried to hold your breath for as long as you could.

It didn’t take long before you had to breath again, and as soon as you did you felt the smoke work its was inside, infecting your brain and your senses. You lost your balance and fell off the desk, unable to break your fall as the smoke fogged up your brain, confusion taking over. 

You tried to stand. To get to the door. To get to uncle Steve, but it was worthless. 

You laid on the floor until you lost consciousness. 

After the smoke had taken effect on you, the alarm stopped. The smoke disappeared from the room and the red light returned to normal. The door sprung open and Steve rushed inside. 

However, what he found was not exactly what he was expecting. 

There you were, sitting on the ground with a pile of suit around you. You were no longer sixteen, you were a toddler. You looked to be around two, and because only your body had shrunken, the suit you were once wearing was way to big, and so it piled up around you.

Once you saw your uncle Steve your recognised him immediately, even in this from, and you giggled and smiled as you reached your little arms up. 

Steve picked you up quickly, rushing back to the Quinjet and discarding of your suit, wrapping you in a warm blanket instead. You had a few cuts and bruises on your little body but they didn’t seem to bother you in the slightest as you giggled and laughed while playing with Steve’s beard. 

He sighed as set the coordinates for the Quinjet back to the Avengers tower, contemplating on how the hell he was going to explain this to Natasha and Bucky.

------------------------------------------------------------- 

Once Bucky and Natasha heard that the Quinjet was landing, they rushed to meet you, wanting to hold you in their arms and assure themselves you were safe. 

However, when Steve walked off the Quinjet, a confused and guilty look on his face while carrying a little child, they could only think the worse. Natasha and Bucky rushed over to Steve, asking what had happened to their child. They needed to know you were safe.

Steve chuckled dryly as he held your tiny form up, and the moment you saw Natasha and Bucky you started smiling, reaching for Natasha, wanting your mama to hold you.

Natasha took you from Steve confused, before she took a good look at the toddlers face and realised that it was indeed, you. 

“Y/n?!” Natasha exclaimed confused. 

“Mommy!” you giggled happily as you buried your face into her shoulder, exhausted from the journey. 

“Wasn’t she sixteen when we sent her with you…?” Bucky asked confused, a dangerous tone hidden underneath his playful one.

“Well, you see, she got hit with some kind of strange gas and now… well… she turned into a toddler…” Steve explained, scratching the back of his head while avoiding to make eye contact.

“What…?” Natasha asked even more confused, rubbing your back gently as you fussed before you settled down again. 

“I don’t know what happened. The Hydra base we were at was not abandoned, but they didn’t try to hurt us. I left her alone for just a minute while I went to fight other Hydra agents off, and when I came back, well…” he finished, motioning to your sleeping form.

“I’m really sorry…” Steve added apologetically as he looked down. 

Bucky took a deep breath before laying his hand on his best friend’s shoulder. 

“We’ll go and see Bruce. Hopefully he can help us reverse it,” Bucky stated. Steve looked up at him confused, before he noticed Natasha’s massive smile while she interacted with your younger self. Maybe this wasn’t all bad. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

After speaking with Bruce and Tony, Natasha and Bucky found out that your little form was reversible, but that it would simply take time. They stated that eventually the effects of the gas would wear off, and then you’d be back to your normal, teenager form again. 

Natasha and Bucky thanked them as they made their way to the living room, you still happily in Natasha’s arms. 

Bucky had already started planning an entire mental list of all the things they would have to get for you. I mean, you were two years old and the only thing that adorned your little body was the fuzzy blanket from the Quinjet. 

There weren’t any clothes for you. There wasn’t anything in the Avengers tower for a two year old.

On top of that, Natasha and Bucky had never taken care of a toddler before. You were eleven when the Avengers saved you, and you were eleven when you were adopted by Natasha and Bucky. They didn’t know the first thing about taking care of a young child.

While Bucky rummaged in the kitchen, trying to find something appropriate for you to eat, Natasha sat on the couch with you in her lap, playing peek a boo while you giggled and tried to copy her movements. 

Bucky eventually settled on grabbing you an apple, coming back from the kitchen and handing it to you. 

Natasha gave him an unimpressed look when you took the apple from Bucky’s hand, studying it for a second before holding it back up to Bucky. Bucky looked confused, sending Natasha a glance for help.

“She’s two, James,” Natasha simply stated as Bucky hesitantly took the apple back.

“Daddy cut,” you stated as you pointed at the apple, and Bucky immediately realised how stupid he had been. 

He went back into the kitchen, hearing you giggle as Natasha stated, ‘stupid daddy,’ in a playful tone. Once he returned with the apple, cut this time, he sat beside Natasha, holding the little bowl while you reached for a piece. 

You happily munched on your apple slice while you laid down on Natasha’s chest. 

Perhaps they should lay you down for a nap soon. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

Clint had heard about what had happened to you. He had immediately started digging around in the old clothes from Lila and Nathaniel. The clothes they had kept from Lila were all baby clothes, and so he settled on just grabbing some of Nathaniel’s clothes. 

He arrived at the compound quickly, finding you still sitting on the couch, finishing your last apple slice. 

Natasha held you close as she softly rocked you back and forth, a happy and content smile on her face. She loved you more than anything in the world. She loved your shopping trips, your determination when you insisted on certain songs during car rides. Your ability to make Bucky say yes to whatever you asked. But she could not deny how much she had longed to hold you in your younger years.

Holding you, in your two year old form, was everything she had ever wanted. 

You were so small. So fragile. So young. Natasha was more than grateful that she gets to experience you being so small as well. 

Clint smiled at the sight, walking into the living area and sitting on a chair close to Natasha and Bucky. 

“She’s adorable,” he stated as he got a good look at you.

Your little head perked up at the sound of his voice. “Uhncle Clint!” You stated happily, tripping over your words as they came out as a mushed up mess. 

“Hello there tiny,” Clint responded as he smiled at you.

“I got you some of Nathaniel’s old clothes. I couldn’t find anything from Lila’s but I figured this will do for now,” Clint explained to Natasha and Bucky as he handed Bucky the clothes. 

You little arm immediately reached towards the pile of clothes, sitting up straight in Natasha’s lap as you pulled the clothing items out of the perfect pile, wanting to see all of them. Eventually, you reached for a shirt with little planets on it. You held it up to Natasha. 

“On mama,” you stated firmly, to which Natasha laughed while she helped you into the shirt. 

Eventually, you were happily dressed in a miss matching set of pajamas, leaning into Natasha again as your eyes started to fall close. 

“I think it’s time for a nap,” Natasha stated as she stood up, holding you tightly to her chest as she made her way towards hers and Bucky’s bedroom. Bucky followed her as they went into the bedroom, Natasha laying you on the bed. 

“Do two year olds wear diapers…?” Bucky asked, deep in thought while he contemplated putting a diaper on you or not.

Natasha let out a huff of amusement before handing a diaper to Bucky.

“Yes they do,” she stated as she sat down on the bed, making sure you kept laying down as Bucky gave her a confused look.

“Well go on dad, put a diaper on your kid,” Natasha stated playfully, listening to your giggles as Bucky’s face heated up. 

“I don’t know how…” Bucky stated, a little embarrassed. 

“Come on super soldier, I’ll talk you through it. It’s not that hard,” Natasha explained as she motioned for Bucky to get to work. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

After Bucky’s diaper adventure you were asleep pretty quickly, all the excitement from the day catching up to you as you slept peacefully on the big bed. Natasha had laid pillows all around you, building some kind of wall to ensure you wouldn’t roll out of the bed while you slept. 

After you were down and content, Natasha had offered to go to the mall to pick out a few necessities for you. Bucky had reluctantly agreed, even though he was terrified to take care of you. You were only a little baby, and he was terrified to hurt you. 

Natasha had assured him that he would do great, and Clint had offered to stay nearby incase Bucky would need anything.

And so, Natasha happily went to the mall, shopping in all the baby stores as she put way to many objects in her basket. She had never had such an experience before. Sure, she occasionally picked up a thing or two for Clint’s kids, but getting to pick out stuff for her own little girl felt entirely different.

She had already received a dozen texts while she was gone, all from Bucky as he slightly panicked with every sound or movement you made. 

Natasha chuckled to herself as she read through the texts, assuring Bucky you were fine and that you were just sleeping like any normal toddler would. 

“Are you looking for anything specific?” 

The question pulled Natasha away from her phone, turning to look at the woman beside her. She had a kind smile on her face as she scanned the objects in Natasha’s basket. 

“Oh, uhm, I’m not sure,” Natasha stated, giving the woman a smile back.

“Your first child?” the woman asked, and Natasha nodded with a bright smile on her face. 

“It was unexpected, to say the least,” she chuckled at her own joke, watching the woman’s face as she smiled kindly. 

“How old is she?” the woman asked, judging by the basket contents that you were a girl.

“Two,” Natasha stated as she picked up another set of pajamas, the pattern a collection of different cartoon drawings of your favourite animal.

“It’s a great age. I loved it when my kids were that age,” the woman told Natasha.

“Children that age often want comfort items. Does she have anything like a stuffed animal, or maybe a special blanket?” the woman suggested, and Natasha thought for a moment before shaking her head. 

“No, I suppose she doesn’t. I should probably pick one up for her,” she stated as she gave the woman another smile, moving to walk over to the stuffed animal section. 

The woman trailed behind her and guided her towards a collection of adorable bears, all dressed in various pajama sets that were sold around the store. 

“You could get one with the same pajamas as your daughter,” the woman explained excitedly, picking up a bear dressed in the same pajamas that Natasha had picked out earlier.

Natasha took the bear, thanking the woman before making her way to check out. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

Once Natasha arrived back at the Avengers tower the first thing she noticed was how the common area was a chaos. Clint and Wanda were looking around while Bucky just paced around panicking. 

Natasha walked over to Bucky, a determination to calm her boyfriend down before he would have a mental breakdown.

“Y/n’s gone,” Bucky stated as he say Natasha come into view.

Clint immediately turned around upon hearing Bucky’s words, letting out a chuckle and walking over to Natasha as well. 

“For the record, y/n is not gone, she is simply playing hide and seek,” Clint started, looking around. “And she’s damn good at it…”

Natasha laughed as she set her bags on the couch.

“Y/n? Sweetie, it’s mommy. I have some things for you,” Natasha stated in a sing songy voice, her ears immediately perking up when she heard your excited giggles coming from her right. 

There you were, running as fast as your little legs could take you, straight for Natasha’s lap.

You jumped up on the couch, climbing onto Natasha as you hugged her tightly. 

“Mommy!” you exclaimed happily, giggling as Natasha attacked your face with kisses.

“Was my little princess hiding from daddy?” Natasha asked as you nodded, still giggling as you pointed over to Bucky.

“Daddy not finding me!” you exclaimed, stretching out to give Natasha a kiss on her cheek. 

Bucky sighed with relief as he moved to sit down beside you two, his large hand stroking your back, it almost being as big as your entire back. You giggled and pushed yourself away from Natasha, using her shoulders to push yourself up so you could give Bucky a kiss as well.

“I best at hid and seeking,” you stated proudly, and Bucky chuckled as he nodded, giving you a kiss on your forehead.

“Look what I have for you my little malyshka,” Natasha said as she reached into the bag, pulling the stuffed animal from the bag and handing it over to you.

You smiled brightly, immediately hugging the bear tightly to your chest when you got it into your hands. 

“Matching pajamas…” Bucky stated with amusement as he pulled the pajama set from the bag, holding it up for you and Natasha to see. 

You gasped in excitement as reached over to it.

“On mommy, on,” you stated as you managed to get the pajamas in your hands.

Natasha chuckled and helped you out of Nathaniel’s old clothes, ripping open the packaging of the new pajamas and helping you put them on. 

“I look like bear!” you exclaimed happily as you looked at yourself, holding up your bear for Natasha and Bucky to see.

“Yes you do doll,” Bucky stated as he pulled you into his lap, showering your face with kisses.

Both Natasha and Bucky would never say it out loud, but they hoped you would stay a two year old for a little while longer, loving the new domestic feeling it gave them to raise a little kid. Of course, they loved you and they would be more than happy when you were to turn back into your teenage self, but they couldn’t deny the fact that they wanted to enjoy holding your little form for as long as possible. 

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey @lorsstar1st

[thefandomthings]

𝐒mall 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐢𝐦

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: The Older Brothers (Separate) x Gn!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: A little, like smidge suggestive, smidge of possessiveness

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I apologize if the brothers are Ooc, and for any mistakes

Part 1 Part 2

Do not copy, or repost my work

Lucifer is a busy demon

You never fail to notice the irritation he has when he wakes up and has to make coffee, it takes time off of his schedule for the day.

So, you made a plan to wake up before he did and make him a fresh cup of coffee and go back to bed before he comes into the kitchen

Lucifer was delighted and much happier throughout the day when we wakes up to the strong smell of his coffee

But eventually his curiosity gets the best of him.

Who has been making his coffee for him, and who knows him well enough to make sure there is enough for 3 cups?

He has a strong idea who it is once he realizes you are harder to get up in the morning since the mystery coffee started.

Lucifer decides to catch you in the act, to answer his suspicions and thank you

The Devildom is still dark, clouds blocking out any sunlight from the human and celestial realm. It's around 6 in the morning, your bare feet are cold against the long hallways of the house of lamentation.

The house is getting colder as the seasons pass, your having to wear a sweater or a robe when you wake up in the early mornings. Maybe you should mention to Lucifer that he should think about turning on the heaters at night.

Your rub your eyes triedly when walking into the kitchen. Flipping on the light above the stove, you turned the coffee maker on, the small bulbs lighting up the darker area. You reached above the coffee pot and dug out a paper filter and the ground coffee.

Once you cleaned out the pot, you set it in the maker. You opened the package of filters and put on it along with the ground coffee beans. The smell is strong, almost enough to make your eyes water.

Lucifer likes his coffee black and some water to thin it out. It reminds you of your father, he likes his coffee the same way. You smile fondly of the thought of your dad.

Your body tenses when the coffee makers makes a rumbling sound as it begins the process of making the coffee.

You lean against the counter and watch the steam flow out any open space, the brown liquid pouring into the glass pot. You felt your soul leave you body when the kitchen lights flicked on.

Lucifer, in all his glory, stood at the entrance of the kitchen. Sleep still visible in his tired eyes, his hair slightly sticking up, his silk PJs wrinkled and sticking to his robe. You blush at the sight.

"MC" His voice is groggy and dry, but he had a small, kind smile on his face. "Hi Luci" You make sure to stay quiet, not wanting to wake anyone else up.

"So it has been you? Waking up at such early hours just to please me?" His voice is low and teasing but there is genuine happiness in his voice.

"Yes, I noticed you got irritated and it took a lot of time out of your day to make it" You explained, pressing your palms against the cold, marble countertop.

Lucifer hummed and walked over to you, his slipper gently hitting the hardwood floor. His ruby eyes never leaving you, his smile never fading.

When he got to you he brought you into a hug, his hand in your hair his other around your waist and shoulders. You smiled and wrapped your arms around him, hooking themselves under his arms and resting on his shoulder blades.

Your cheek pressed against his toned chest, your eyes closed as you and him begin to sway. His head rested on yours while he held you close. His chest vibrated as he started humming, it's faint and quiet; only you and him are able to hear it.

Lucifer never has or had someone to care for him in such a little way, but it effects him so deeply he can't help but fall more in love with you.

You have such a kind soul, he had sensed it ever since you arrived. He doesn't know what he did to deserve you, but he is eternally grateful.

I truly believe The Great Mammon, is forgetful af.

He is always leaving something he needs behind.

Like his sunglasses, his favorite necklace, his favorite pair of earrings, even his car keys, or his favorite powdered foundation for modeling sessions.

The list goes on and on.

You noticed his forgetful habit before you even started dating him.

You constantly reminded him, a few or more times before he left the house but he always manages to leave something behind.

While you and the boy's were out at the mall one day, you decided to get him something to keep all of his things in.

A purse was a little to girly and he'd probably be embarrassed to carry it around, tho yk he would try just for you.

A wallet was to small to hold his car keys and foundation.

Plus, he already has a gold wallet he kept with him everywhere he went, even in his sleep.

Then you found it, the perfect thing just for your Mammon.

You just so happen to find it in Bath & Body works. The small black bag was perfect. It was big enough to hold his car keys and anything on the bigger side, but also had smaller pockets for jewelry and extra grim.

You couldn't help but smile, your chest buzzing with joy. You grabbed the bag and stepped in line. The line was long, all the demons are impatient, big or small. Always grumbling under their breath.

You always felt uncomfortable around all of them, especially when you didn't have one of the brothers with you. They despise you for being human, they think it's fun to pick and make fun of you. For literally anything under the dark sky of the Devildom.

You've learned to ignore it, one of the brothers or you handsome boyfriend usually scares the shit out of them anyway, but when it's just yourself your are a little more vigilant.

"Hi, this all for Ya?" The cashier was faux friendly, of course. Her name badge crooked and her hair was unneat and definitely unkept.

"Yes" You handed her the bag and got out the credit card Lucifer and Mammon had made for you an only you.

She gave you the biggest side eyes you've ever received. The card is black and gold, the royal stamp in the middle of it. A sparkly Gold outlining the edges making a pattern towards the marking on the back. The mark of the greedy, you and Mammon's pact mark.

You knew he would know once you mad a purchase. His pact mark stinging as you got greedy when buying something, a courtesy of having the bond with the Avatar of greed. Always craving something more, always wanting and needing it. The items would shine and beckon you in, temptation tugging at you.

You swallowed the thought of buying the whole store and quickly left. You could feel the greed seeping into your soul.

"Oi! MC!" Mammon's voice quickly brought you out of your tempting thoughts. You watched him jog towards you, his limba ring glowing a beautiful gold.

"Hi Mams" You said breathlessly, your own eyes shining a bright yellow. Mammon's face flushed, his pact mark stinging into his skin. But it felt so good when it did, he need it to sting more, to watch you get greedy infront of him or, even better, for him.

"I got you something" You smile so softly, it brings him to his knees.

"O-Of course you got the Great Mammon something, who wouldn't?" He grinned and curiously watched you hand him the white and blue plastic bag.

Mammon's face was bright red, his hands reached into the shopping bag and took out his gift. His eyes shines with happiness, a bright smile engulfing his beautiful face.

"I got it to hold the things your forgetting all the time, you just put it in there so it's all together" You explained holding into his free hand and swinging it back in forth.

Mammon wanted to cry. You are so perfect. So kind, so sweet to him. His perfect human. All to himself.

He brought you into a bone crushing hug, the bag you got him he held tightly in his hands. You giggled and hugged him back, running your fingers along his spine and shoulders.

Mammon made sure to always keep the bag with him, a small picture of you and him tucked away in his wallet and that bag. He also spoiled the shit outta you at the mall that day.

Levi is probably the second most untidy out of his brothers, next to Mammon.

Games all over the floor near his tv, his dirty clothes basket overflowing with clothes, his blankets unwashed.

Its just a mess.

And I picture you as sort of a neat freak some days, you don't mind the mess it's just not and organized mess?

Levi is embarrassed about his room and he does try to make a mental note to keep it cleaner for when your around but he forgets. To engrossed by his games to remember.

You know he trys to remember to clean it but, Levi can't help himself when all of his gaming friends are playing in he's not

He is the Avatar of Envy after all.

So while he games and you are just hanging out in his room, you decide to pick up his cave.

But only behind him so he can't see, Levi doesn't really notice nor does he hear it, his headset on all the way.

He does notice after you are gone how his room feels cleaner, bigger. Maybe it was just your calming presences.

You do this quite often, and you even clean up his games on the floor when he's at a student council meeting.

DO NOT ENTER

The sign on your boyfriends door reads. You are surprised Levi gave you permission to go into his room without him there. It make you smile knowing that he trusts you enough.

It's almost and intimate thing. His room is his safe space, where he can be himself and not be bothered by his brothers. Where he can watch all of his shows without being teased. Where he can cosplay all of his favorite characters and daydream of what they'd be like in person.

You find all of this adorable, it's what makes Levi, Levi.

When you are inside his room, Your are hesitant in cleaning up his gaming space, that is almost sacred. So you decide to leave it be untill you ask his permission. But his room is starting to smell from Levi's dirty clothes that continues to pile up against the wall.

You begin by separating his nice clothes form his everyday clothes, those go to the dry cleaners on Tuesday. The rest go into your laundry basket and down to the laundry room.

You hope the meeting will be and extra bit longer today, so you could be in and out before Levi and the brothers get home. If Lucifer found out you were the one doing his laundry and picking up his room, he'd hang you and Levi off the roof like Mammon.

You have your headphones on, one ear isn't covered so you could hear the loud stomping of the boys when they get home. You start humming with the song that rings into you ears, your head bobbing with the beat.

You carry down a load of Levi's laundry. You get the washer ready and start it, his shirts getting wet as the washer fills with water. You bring the rest of his shirts and his socks and put them into the second washer, that sits underneath the first one. With 8 people living in one house you have to have more than one washer and dryer.

While his clothes are washing, you decide to clean around his bed and dust things off. Henry, you and Levi's adopted son, watches out of his fish tank. You lift things up and dust underneath them but set them right where they once were.

After dusting, you clean up all the trash around his tub and put it in his little Ruri trash can next to his night stand. You check all the wrappers to make sure they don't have anything Levi would like on them before throwing them away.

You fail to notice your headphones slipping onto your uncovered ear. But you continued on with making his Tub the most comfortable it could be. His Ruri pillow directly where he likes it.

Being so occupied in your own little world and the music blasting in you ears, you didn't hear the heard of elephants coming up the stairs and Levi opening his bedroom door.

Levi watched you with a dark blush on his face. How you finished making his tub the way he likes it, the way you folded his clothes and set them neatly in his dresser. And all with a small smile on your face.

"Uh, MC." Levi finally spoke, his hands in his jacket pocket. When you didn't answer he saw you had headphones on. He knows you weren't purposely ignoring him, but he felt envy creeping up on him.

He knew he had to thank you in some way, but his anxiety spikes at the thought, his envy washing away. He decided on the just hugging you from behind, but he didn't want to scare you.

Levi slowly tapped your shoulder, you could feel someone in the room with you but you choose to ignore it. You have a very good idea who it is now. You slip your headphones off and see Levi's pale hand on your shoulder.

"Hi Levi" Your voice was so quiet and calming, you weren't surprised at all. His face was tinted a cute pink, his ears red.

"MC, Can...Can you stay turned that way?" He requested. You nodded and faced away from him.

A few seconds later you felt his slim arms around your waist, his head laying against your neck and shoulders. His breathing was fast, and his heartbeat was quick. You smiled and layed your hands over his.

"Thank you"

You almost missed it, his voice so quiet, his chest rumbled against you as he spoke. You smiled and leaned back against him.

This was Levi's way of saying thank you and showing affection You couldn't be more proud of him. He is slowly getting over his shyness and Tsuendere attitude. But You wouldn't have it any other way.

[minolikeswords]

Perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone- Jing Yuan x GN! Reader

cw: death, sad Jing Yuan, Jing Yuan is a sweetie, mention of pet death, angst, marriage, hurt/mild comfort???? Lmk if I missed anything <3

wc: 873 words

Mino’s notes: willed this into existence while staring at my own worn rings in the shower lmao. I hope you like it <3

© minolikeswords do not translate, copy, or repost my work to other platforms.

Jing Yuan was not a sentimental man. Throughout his very long life, he’d learned to let go of small attachments. He lived in the moment. The present and the present only, his past had haunted him for long and his future was in his palms. So there was just the present.

Besides, the general was often too tired to even pay mind to most matters of his past. Yet it slipped out sometimes, in small, barely noticeable items he had around him. Snowmoon’s red collar placed on a shelf by his desk, he’d rub the golden bell hanging from it every morning. A silent greeting to a pet (family) long gone. Pictures thrown deep within his closet he’d find maybe once a month while cleaning, letters and mementos from friends he’d lost and friends he rarely saw anymore.

But his favourite keepsake?

A shiny, golden, nearly perfect (though he’d agree it was already) ring that he kept around his neck. One he kissed many times while working. Polished every week. It lay directly over his heart most times. A reminder of who he once had and loved with all his being.

Jing Yuan liked you since you started working with him. Witty, smart, easy going, fun and always eager to learn. He found himself smitten in a few months alone, finding any excuse to keep you near him. You gave him hope.

It was great, you were both happy. He doesn’t know when it started, maybe he’d realized how fragile humans were? Maybe he’d realized how easy it was to hurt you, how easily you got sick. He didn’t know what to do, and it tore him apart.

“I already know I won’t live as long as you, ‘Yuan,” you murmured, your fingers rubbing his scalp as he sat between your legs in the shower. Jing Yuan let out a soft and irritated noise at that.

“It doesn’t bother you? You aren’t frightened?” Bright yellow eyes stared up at you and you smiled at him. He’s never seen a smile like yours since. Even then it made his chest tighten and his heart stutter. You lean down and kiss his forehead.

“It scares me every day, my love. But right now, I am here, and we are together. Is that not what matters?” You whisper against his hair, taking in his smell. Truth be told it terrified you. Jing Yuan knew it as well as you did, someone who lived as long as him was not ignorant to how death loomed over all.

But now, you were here, in his arms, where he could hold you and love you.

“I’ll love you always, you know that right?” He said suddenly, gazing at you as you read. Your head resting on his chest and his hands brushing through it. You smile amusedly, turning to look at your lover.

“I could never ask that of you. It is selfish.”

He hummed, the corners of his mouth turned upwards, “you’re the only one I get to be selfish with, so allow me to indulge, my dove.”

Jing yuan now rests against his chair in his office. Hands idly fidgeting with his own ring, the gold worn from the decades of use. He rarely ever took it off, a fear of losing it. He missed you, he couldn’t wait to visit you today.

It was your birthday. Normally he’d decorate your whole house to surprise you when you returned, set up candles, rose petals, set up a table for dinner and cook a meal for you both. Today? He was going to drop by the bakery and pick up your favourite sweets.

He didn’t like them very much, and you always insisted that you didn’t either. Yet, without fail, he’d get them for you every week, and yet, without fail, you’d wake up at night, slip out from besides him and eat as many as you could without getting sick. Never questioning where they kept coming from even when you both knew.

The bakery stood the same all the years you were together. The lady behind the counter smiling as he picked up a box, a flower taped to the top, “for the spouse, general?” She asked politely, and Jing Yuan nodded, “no one but.”

He walked to the cemetery that day. It was chilly out and you would’ve enjoyed the weather, grabbed his hand and laughed and pulled him along with you. Looking up at the sky and wondering if it would’ve rained. Oh how you loved the rain and how he loved watching you.

Your gravestone greeted him the same as it did everyday. Some people would say it was overkill to visit everyday, but it wasn’t. Not for Jing Yuan. He couldn’t get enough of you. He placed the box on your grave, fingers brushing against the cold stone, over your name. Eyes stinging with tears that your hands couldn’t wipe away. He smiled all the same and sat down on the dirt, opening the box and pulling a sweet out and taking a bite as he began to tell you about his day.

“I will see you soon, someday, Dove. Until then, allow me to be a little selfish for a while longer.”