#thank you for the question anon and i hope this is some kind of an answer you were looking for
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emeritusemeritus · 1 day ago
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I'm sorry but I don't know English and I'm using a translator to write you this
you could write (it's not mandatory) where Weasley twins are unfaithful to their girlfriend with another Gryffindor student and do everything to have their forgiveness, thank you🥺
My dear Anon, thank you so much for your incredible request. I hope you don’t mind that I changed a few things around whilst trying to stay true to your request. This idea came to me and I couldn’t leave it alone. Hope you enjoy! 🖤
Warnings: cheating!fic, themes of unfaithful behaviour and betrayal. Swearing. Sorry Angelina, I’m sure you’re lovely but I needed a villain. Amortentia, drugging using a love potion. Friends are lied to and used. Fuck you Marcus Flint.
Word count: 4.8k
Song for writing: Lachryma by Ghost🖤
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Crying over someone like you [Weasley Twins x Reader]
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If you hadn't seen it with your own eyes, you'd have never believed it.
George Weasley, one half of the Weasley twin duo and one of your boyfriends of over three years. His figure, so tall and resolute lingered in the corridor adjacent to the great hall, his posture bent and his hair characteristically vibrant and messy. His clothes were oddly matched, a contrast of faded colour and interesting patterns and textures, snuggly fitted around the ankles. His freckled cheeks flushed with colour, his long eyelashes kissing those very cheeks as he stands with his eyes closer, his full pink lips pursed and kissing Daphne Greengrass.
You felt like you'd been cursed on the spot stumbling upon the pair locking lips in the corridor, neither of them even trying to hide their intimacy. If you hadn't been with Fred, your other boyfriend, you would have completely fallen apart in that moment, rendered silent and heartbroken by your discovery. Luckily for you, Fred had not frozen at seeing the scene but had instead leapt into action, dropping your hand and instantly lunging towards his twin, pulling him away from a seemingly unbothered Daphne.
You didn't know what followed Fred's initial reaction, despite the multitude of rumours floating around the school, as you had fled the scene in floods of tears, feeling sickened to your core.
The days following the incident you'd wanted to isolate yourself completely but your friends had not allowed that to happen and instead had remained by your side at all times with unwavering support. Fred had tried to help you, to put a smile of your face and assure you that he was still very much here and in love with you regardless of his idiot brother but he'd been put in an impossible position torn between his twin brother and his girlfriend.
George had been silent. He hadn't attempted to talk to you or make contact, neither did he acknowledge you at all in the days that followed. He couldn't even respect you enough to end the relationship in any way. After over three years together in what you thought was the kind of love that never faltered, he couldn't even explain himself or his actions. You'd expected a message passed along in some way with a half-hearted excuse of why he no longer loved you, if he ever had. Your thoughts spiralled when no communication came, your mind trying to process what had happened and beginning to try to understand how. Had he ever loved you? How had you not seen the signs that his eye was wandering?
The fact was that there were no signs. Only the day before he had been his usual self, as tactile and loving as he ever was. He'd told you that he loved you the day before you'd found him kissing Daphne Greengrass and you'd never questioned it, seeing nothing but honesty in his eyes. That's what hurt the most.
Rumours of what happened had reached nearly every corner of the school within hours, most notably the now infamous fight between the two twins which had never happened before. Following that, the brothers were no longer on speaking terms and they had not been spotted together once since their spat- the longest they had ever gone without speaking.
The other rumour circulating with just as much scandal was that Daphne Greengrass was feverishly denying that it had ever happened in the first place. Apparently the rumour of her kissing George, a Gryffindor and a Weasley no less was rather upsetting to her and she'd declared her truth loudly and tearfully to anyone that mentioned it; not that you cared in the slightest of her apparent upset.
Fred was a wreck, ghosted by his twin brother and alone for the first time in his life without his constant sidekick. George had disappeared on him, choosing to spend his time anywhere but around either you or Fred. It was like he'd disappeared completely.
That was until your second run in with George and Daphne, both of them walking up the path back from the Quidditch pitch, hand in hand and chuckling secretively to each other. Thankfully this time Fred wasn't with you but would have already been at the quidditch practice, an ominous thought if he'd seen the couple together already. You tried to keep your head down and avoid them, feeling sick to your stomach at the sight of them so evidently in love.
Not a word was spoken and though you tried to resist looking towards the boy you'd loved for years, you couldn't help but peak hopefully at him as you passed. There was nothing. Not even a single glance of recognition in his face and certainly no remorse. He couldn't even spare you the common courtesy of a glance or a greeting, never mind an apology.
Once they had passed you, you paused on the pathway. George looked different somehow, though you couldn't put your finger on it initially. His clothes did not fit in the same way they usually did and they looked different, more vibrant, newer. You frowned and vowed yourself to carry on walking, the notion perplexing you the whole way to the quidditch pitch where you had been meeting Fred after practice.
When you finally reached the pitch feeling shaken and your heartbreak renewed, all havoc had broken loose. Fred was prowling the pitch like a caged animal, anger evident in his face and his body, muscles tense and his fists clenching and unclenching. Katie, Alicia and Ron were all stood around trying to talk sense into Fred but it was clearly not working once bit. You didn't know where to start, what to say or do to make him calm down, assuming you knew where his anger had stemmed from.
Luckily, Iain Claverdon, the sweet and slightly dense resident benchwarmer of the Gryffindor quidditch team spotted you standing off to the side and strolled over, urging you to come help.
"He saw George and that girl, went mad at him but George didn't even look at him! I mean I know they're brothers and all but that's not right. I don't know what's got into George's head lately, I mean he's even misplaced his quidditch robes. Can you believe it? Luckily I had a spare set to lend him but after she turned up he just walked off! First Angelina's not here and then he just walks out, shocking! Guess I won't be seeing those robes again."
"Y/n!"
You heard your name called and flashed your eyes up, seeing Alicia ushering you over with much more urgency than Iain had. Your legs moved almost on autopilot as you walked towards your boyfriend and friends, your head spinning from the overload of information Iain had given you. George had left mid-practice and lost his robes? There's no way your George would have ever done that, he loved Quidditch more than anything.
"Y/n, we can't calm him down," Katie says, meeting you halfway and practically dragging you by the wrist as she jogs over to where Fred is still pacing.
"Maybe you could try," Alicia says once you get closer. "He won't listen to any of us, George was being a right prick."
Fred had practically crushed you when he saw you, pulling you into his chest, your face pressed against the leather ties of his robes. His goggles were practically suffocating you as they hung around his neck, long forgotten, his padded arms holding you tightly into his body. It had taken nearly five minutes to calm him down but he'd eventually relented. You could see how much this was all affecting him, the bomb that had been thrown into your life and the consequences you were both dealing with after too much for Fred to deal with whilst trying to keep his head above water. Though you had lost your boyfriend and your best friend, Fred had lost his literal other half. You could see the strain it put on him, how lost he was without George around and how hard it was to accept this new much less caring version of George you were seeing.
"Shut up Iain!" You heard Katie snip as you walked back to the group with a much calmed Fred by your side, his arm never leaving your body.
"I'm just saying!" Iain says with a shrug.
"What?" You asked once you reached the group, seeing Katie and Alicia shooting glares at Iain whilst struggling to shut away the box of equipment.
"Some slytherins have had their belongings go walkabouts. Between Luna's shoes going missing again, Ang missing practice, the Slytherin thief and all the rest of it, I'm starting to think there's something fishy happening around here."
"Don't be an idiot Iain," Katie said rolling her eyes.
"Hey guys, I'm really sorry I missed practice. Couldn't get out of detention this time, I swear Professor Sprout knows we're going to demolish Hufflepuff at the next match and shes playing dirty," Angelina said as she came into view, holding her hands up as she talked with a smile on her face. You frowned again, noticing that she wasn't actually remorseful despite her words, neither was she as furious as you would have expected her to be about the captain of the team being forced to miss practice, especially this close to a vital match.
"Oi Johnson! It's our time on the pitch so you lot'll have to scramble," Marcus Flint sneered as he walked onto to the pitch, his green quidditch robes billowing as he walked, holding his broom and flanked by the entire Slytherin quidditch team.
"Let's get going," Angelina said to her team, apparently listening to Flint for the first time ever.
"Fred, I need to borrow you." She gestures with her head, turning towards your boyfriend who simply nodded, both of them slipping behind the curtain so that they could talk in private.
Your interest piqued once again, feeling slightly on edge by how weird everything felt now. George's deceit had really played a number on your mind, making you question everything around you. Everything felt wrong somehow, out of place, like you couldn't trust anyone or see things clearly. Perhaps it was the torment of the heartbreak consuming you and creating a fog around you but everything just felt off, your life turning into a series of strange encounters.
Things only got weirder once Thursday rolled around, five days after you'd seen George kiss Daphne for the first time and your heart had been stamped on.
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It was around 8pm and whilst most of the school was beginning to wind down from their activities and settle in for the night, Marcus Flint had other plans. The note he'd acquired earlier that day had given him such a rush of fresh excitement that he knew there would be no way he could settle down until well after midnight. He'd dutifully slipped out of the Slytherin common room and had weaved his way around the school without any detection, traipsing the long walk to the quidditch pitch alone, carrying his singular bag. There's a spring in his step at the very thought of what was to come, these little meetings the highlights of his week as he walks to the rendezvous spot. He steps into the tent at the rear of the quidditch stadium, the near darkness making it harder to locate as he stumbles around the laid out benches. He's in enemy territory here, looking at the chalkboard with a plan of the pitch, a few defensive notes and names of the Gryffindor team written across the board haphazardly, pleased he had managed to find the Gryffindor tent so easily. If his head were in the right place, he'd consider taking notes of their defensive strategies and double down on them during the next match but he can't bring himself to care enough. Lately, he'd found himself unable to concentrate on his school work or even Quidditch at all, his mind fixated upon a single thought. And so what if he lost a few matches this season? She was worth it.
Daphne Greengrass was a goddess amongst women. The type of girl any man would be proud to have e hanging on his arm. To look at her was to see a constellation of stars, so blinding in their beauty it rendered everything around them insignificant. He was in love with her, body and soul and he'd do anything for a chance with her.
"Marcus," the voice called out to him softly, that beautiful feminine voice that he could only compare to the sound of an angel's own song.
He whipped around at the sound, desperate to know that it wasn't just his imagination, legs quaking when he realised that it wasn't all in his head. Daphne Greengrass was truly stood in front of him, speaking his name, looking directly at him as she steps aside from the tent opening. By Salazar she was beautiful, ethereal almost, heavenly.
"Marcus," she repeats, just as softly as before, her arousing voice beckoning him like a siren calling out to an unfortunate sailor. She flashes him a smile of perfectly white teeth, beckoning him further whilst he remains frozen, his mind whirling dangerously to try to bring him back to reality, praying that this Angel would still be here when he did.
"I've been looking for you," she says with a coy smile, biting her lip between her teeth. Marcus is fixated on the slight movement, the alluring way her plump pink lip boss appears between her perfect teeth, so teasing and innocent and yet so sinful.
"Me?" He manages to squeak out, his voice sounding much less majestic than hers. She nods, gliding forward towards him.
"I was told a little secret earlier today, can you guess what that might be?" She asks, reaching up with her perfectly manicured fingers to reach for the scruffy collar of his shirt. He clears his throat at the contact, barely able to get a word out and so he shakes his head in reply. She smiles again, giggling slightly at his actions.
"I was told you had a little crush on me," she leans down and whispers in his ear, her hot breath and her melodic voice forcing his eyes closed at the intimacy of the action.
"Yes," he says, sounding tranquillised, willingly giving up the information as if under her spell, desperately hoping her hands would remain on him in anyway they would.
"That's fortunate," she says with a girlish giggle, "because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."
His eyes flash open, wider than a cauldron lid as her words repeat in his mind.
"Me, me? What about umm... George?"
"George Weasley? Now now Marcus, did you really think I'd believe it was George I was kissing?"
Marcus looks dazed, his eyes glazed over as he looks into hers. The hope in his eyes is evident, a look of sheer desperation on every inch of his face.
"You.. you knew it was me?"
"Of course I did silly," she giggles again, her sing like laughter making his heart soar. "I think I'd know if I was kissing George Weasley."
"Don't say his name," Marcus bites back angrily with a frown, the illusion he's holding onto in his mind of the perfect moment slightly fracturing from the sound of another man's name falling from her lips.
"I'm sorry Marcus," she says quickly, meekly. He hates the sound of it initially, cursing himself for his anger and for breaking the moment. But underneath he secretly loves the way she begs for his forgiveness, her subservient tone strangely arousing.
"It was such a clever plan," she continues. He can hardly concentrate with how her warm hand strokes against his arm, the path of her touch making his skin tingle. "Why wasn't it just you all along? It could have been your lips I've been kissing all week."
The very notion of her words makes him weak. No longer would be have to pretend to be that filthy Weasley boy but instead he could dream that his lips would be the one to touch hers, those perfect lips that he'd be happy to suffocate against.
"Angelina," he gasps out as her hand brushes his neck, having moved across his shoulder and up his arms, his trousers suddenly feeling uncomfortably tight.
"What?" She says, sounding hurt. He'd ruined it all, said another girl's name and broken her trust in him. He had to fix it right now.
"Angelina Johnson, it was all her idea. She had me drink Polyjuice to turn into George, said you'd never want me for me. Now I know how you feel, trust me I'll deal with her."
"No need," she says, her tone suddenly much harsher, the ethereal tone to her voice fading away. He looks up at her with wide eyes, an ominous feeling of dread beginning to seep into him. "She's been dealt with."
"What?" He begins to say, confused and concerned as he hears her voice change in tone.
He stumbles back when he watches her perfect face begin to distort, like something from a horror film, skin stretching and moving upon its own accord. Her features alter before his eyes, the face and body he'd spent weeks memorising and committing to his memory distorting before him.
Suddenly, he's no longer faced by the girl of his dreams but rather one of his more recent nightmares, you.
"You, you!" He begins to say, startled and frightened under the weight of your hateful gaze. "What is this?"
His head whips around when another figure appears, though this one he had certainly not intended to see tonight.
"Angelina?" He stutters, the pair of them gazing at each other in alarm upon seeing you stood there. You take the opportunity of their distracted gazes and pull out your wand, locking the panelled curtain door with a swish of your wrist, securing the tent.
The noise of the canvas being secured echoes like a whip in the small space and startles both of the non suspecting people inside the tent.
"Y/n," Angelina begins to say, her face screwed up with a frown despite her smile, clearly thinking you were joking.
"Tell him," you say, prompting her to do the right thing.
"What?" She asks with a chuckle, still feigning ignorance. That is until she sees the clothes that you were wearing, the green accents and emblem of the uniform so foreign against your body. You watch as her eyes widen in panic, clearly realising that this was not a joke at all. I'm that moment, she realised that you knew everything.
"Y/n," she says again, trying to defend herself but you silence her with a single look of hatred.
"Tell. Him."
"Tell me what?" Marcus says, suddenly frustrated by the lack of sharing happening, his disappointment making his anger shine through.
"Tell him." You raise your wand towards her, your face expressionless and your eyes piercing.
"Alright!" She turns to Marcus, wavering in her confidence. "It hasn't been Daphne Greengrass you've been kissing."
"What?!"
Angelina recoils, all pretence of confidence having slipped away. It takes one shift of your wand-wielding hand for her to begins again.
"It was me," Angelina confesses, shrinking in on herself. "I pretended to be Daphne so that you would  keep being George! If you thought you were kissing Daphne then I knew you'd keep doing it!"
Marcus is stunned and horrified by her words, his face contorting into a look of severe distaste, like the thought alone was sour.
"And?" You say, breaking the silence. Her eyes whip around to you, realising once again that you knew more than she thought. Suddenly, she's turning her vitriol upon you, eyes blazing as she squares her shoulders.
"This is all your fault! You already had Fred, why did you need George too?! If you'd just been happy with one you little slut none of this would have happened!"
She reaches for her wand as her shouts echo through the tent but you're too quick, blasting her wand away from her with a simple spell and catching it mid air as it falls to you.
"Tell. Him."
She's silent, alarmed by your ability to disarm her to effortlessly. You take it upon yourself to look at Marcus who looks frightened for his life.
"That's not all though is it Angie?" You snark, using the nickname you knew she hated before turning your attention to Flint. You rifle through your pocket and pull out a single sweet wrapped up in an orange wrapper.
"Look familiar?" You ask, holding it up between your fingers.
"Bitch," you hear Angelina mutter under her breath, but rather than infuriate you further, it fuels you.
"Those sweets you gave me," he says to Angelina in shock, "how do you have one? She said they were limited edition!"
You have to fight to not roll your eyes in that moment, realising how painfully dim the Slytherin captain was.
"You mean the melon drops you stole from Fred and laced with Amortentia?"
"What?" Marcus says, his head whipping around towards Angelina who has taken a seat in one of the benches, averting her gaze entirely.
"She's been lacing you with love potion! I knew it was odd that the Slytherin thief had suddenly stopped. You 'talking' with Fred at practice was just a ploy to get more of his sweet creations from him because you wanted to carry on lying to Marcus! How did you manage it? Have someone else on the inside did you?"
"You stupid bitch!" She begins to lunge, only to be stopped as Marcus brandishes his wand in her direction, his eyes livid and his face bright red with anger. His wand goes flying through the air as you disarm him too, leaving them both defenceless without their wands.
"Well, there's nothing you can do now! George will hate you when he finds out, you'll be lucky to even keep Fred! You don't deserve them and you never did!" She's manic, eyes glassy as she snarls at you.
"I wouldn't be so sure," a voice says from the sidelines, two near identical figures stepping around the curtains to reveal themselves.
"George," she says breathlessly, saying his name like a prayer. Her face is full of hope, eyes pleading with his as she smiles up at him like he'll be her salvation. Her smile fades quickly when George walks over to you and wraps his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. Fred mirrors his actions and you stand united as a trio against the two that had wronged you.
"Please Georgie, I love you," she pleads one final time. George remains stoic, unwavering and unbothered by her confession.
"I love my girl."
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"Did you hear about Marcus Flint and Angelina? Who'd have thought!" One of the younger Gryffindors says scandalously as they tuck in to their evening meal. You'd tried to avoid the inevitable gossip but no matter where you went it seemed to follow you. It was Monday evening and you were sat in the great hall between your boyfriends, all of you tucking in to the food with little restraint. George's hand rested on your thigh underneath the table as Fred's left hand absently rubbed your lower back intermittently. Everything was perfect again, as if nothing had ever been any different.
"I know! I heard they both went missing over the weekend," Dean says from slightly higher up the table, never one to miss out of the circulating gossip.
"Well I didn't see it but I heard that they were caught sneaking onto the quidditch pitch after hours, something about rigging the next match apparently!"
"Oh bull, we all know why they were there together late and night and it's got nothing to do with quidditch," another girl giggles. A few people snigger and you simply bite down on your lip to stop yourself from joining, feeling George's hand squeezing your upper thigh.
"They got caught by Snape fooling around apparently, couldn't imagine a worse way to go to be honest," Lee interjects with a grin.
"No you've got it wrong," Ron says, from across the table, still chewing on a chicken leg. Your gaze flicks to Hermione sat beside him who grimaces at his lack of table manners and you chuckle.
"I heard they went up in a puff of black smoke and disappeared! Apparently then didn't find them until midday Sunday in the shrieking shack!"
He's waving his potato covered fork wildly as he speaks, his arms swaying back and forth with his words. Hermione reaches for his hand and slams it on the table, keeping the sharp cutlery firmly in one place and away from her face where he was wielding it previously.
"Really?" You hear Fred say, a tone of wonder in his voice.
"Yeah!" Ron replies animatedly, his gaze flicking to his fork as if he's scared to raise his arm again to bring it to his mouth.
"Weird," George replies, taking a bite of his own food as he nudges you secretly. You smirk behind your goblet, knowing exactly the reason for the rumours, the crystals of Peruvian instant darkness powder in George's pocket faintly clinking together with his movement.
"So George, what's it like to know that kissing you is  a Slytherin girls worst nightmare?" Lee says with a boyish giggle, the rest of the table following suit.
Fred had been brilliant in orchestrating a coverup for what had happened with George and Daphne. Fred had let it slip to Seamus that one of his and George's prototype daydream charms had disappeared along with their freshly made melon drops, only it hadn't been the daydream one but rather the misery charm they'd been working on but couldn't get right. If the incantation has been used correctly, it would torment the user, showing them a vivid nightmare of their deepest fears. Kind of like a charm version of a boggart, only the magic wasn't yet perfected and it had led to fake George appearing on and off in his boggart form until the real one returned, clinging on to everyone's misery like a dementor.
The story was that Flint had stolen the items from Fred and George and had used it upon Daphne, leading to the strange occurrences. She'd have no memory of it of course, it was virtually undetectable but the consequences of what happened were enough for the twins to cancel making the item, seeing what hurt it could cause.
Seamus, being the worst secret keeper in all of Hogwarts, told Dean, who told Parvati, who told Cho and Pansy, which meant that the entire school had found out within hours of what Daphne had seen when Marcus had charmed her.
"You know what mate, it's a relief," George replies to Lee, smiling widely with pink cheeks. "Only one girl I want kissing me anyway."
He squeezes your leg under the table again and you beam at him. Ron pretends to gag at the sweetness, earning a swift kick to the shin from Hermione whilst Lee holds up an uneaten chicken drumstick as a somewhat toast to George's words.
"Bet it was nice to get away from school for a few days eh? Though you couldn't have chosen a worse time," Dean says, gesturing to you who had been upset for most of the week, believing the rumours. "What did Mcgonagall want anyway?"
"The academy of broom flying needed a beater for their teaching course. Five days of nothing but Quidditch, absolute bliss if you ask me. It was between me and Fred but she thought I was the safer option," he beamed at the words, clearly taking great pride in what she had said, though really he was probably just the lesser of two evils.
"The quidditch robes," you say under your breath, the finally puzzle piece slipping in place, remembering how they had been missing from his room and that Flint had borrowed Iain's.
"Which reminds me, George I'm going to need those robes back you borrowed," Iain says from down the table, clearly having been listening to the conversation. George looks confused and begins to open his mouth to question Iain but you slip your hand onto his under the table to gently silence him.
"Don't worry Iain, you'll get them back," you say with a smile. He nods, smiling, before tucking back into his food.
"Eventually."
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tunemyart · 6 months ago
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So I've just watched the finale and I'm feeling... Weird. I think part of it is because this show started with everything I like in a story (cool badass ladies, a queer romance, found family, redemption, etc etc) and ended up being... Not all that (most characters die, the romance is doomed, and I guess the redemption mostly happened but wasn't entirely satisfactory to me). Also, I'm someone who as Trauma (tm) with death so, I guess my brain's first reaction is "fuck that I just want them all happy and safe" and it takes me a while to accept when stories take these paths, however well written they might be.
Still, I thought it all went a bit fast in the last 2 eps, with parts of the show ringing just a little bit more hollow than I would have expected? I'm left feeling like the characters of Alice, Mrs Hart and Jen were treated a bit superficially (Lillia's story felt more complete). I also wished we had seen more of Agatha's past because spending centuries just conning witches then killing them is... a bit boring? (maybe we learn more about her in WandaVision, I haven't seen it). And obviously I wished we had seen more of Agatha and Rio. It's like the show couldn't decide if it was about Agatha or about Billy (partly because, I'm guessing it's setting up a 3rd show about him?), and with this short format we ended losing a bit on Agatha's part.
Anyway, curious of what you think of all that because your analysis are always super interesting, and like I said my own brain might be a bit biased towards resistance with this one. And obviously would love to read your fanfic(s) should you write any!
So, I've started and restarted a reply to this a few times, but I think what my answer boils down to is: we're meant to have multilayered responses to this finale. We're meant to sit with it. It's meant to change our experience of the show we've had to this point.
I think the best metaphor for this is the fact the revelation that Rio is Death. Bear with me, because I know this got spoiled for us way early on and we all knew it and were all just waiting for the revelation to drop - but imagine for a second that we didn't know that Rio, Agatha's ex-girlfriend and spooky fun vaguely-a-psychopath as played by the delightful Aubrey Plaza, is death. Your perception of Rio would have been turned on its head. Your perception of Agatha would have been turned on its head. Your perception of the Witches' Road and what we're even doing here with Death walking alongside us as a tourist would have been turned on its head.
Now, we all had an incredibly fun time even with the knowledge that Rio is death before we should have had it. But I think some of the power for what it meant for the story - and our perception of what was really happening - was muted.
Jen, at the beginning of 1.08, says, "She told us who she was from the very beginning."
Sit with that - because the same is true of this story.
---
It turns out that the Road is a metaphor for death. This isn't fully illustrated for us until Nicky, the author of the Ballad, walks down the road with Death's hand in his, and we go, oh. Oh.
Agatha tells us in the beginning that the Road doesn't exist, a rare instance of her giving anyone unbridled truth. And sure - the Road that our coven walked down doesn't exist. The Road that all the witches Agatha lured to the deaths believed in doesn't exist. It's a fiction. But it's significant that Agatha lured them all to the Road and killed them. They wanted to walk the Road. They died. Not "they died instead" - it's a two-fold statement. They wanted to walk the Road and they died. In a gruesome way, Agatha's been taking witches on the Witches' Road since the 1750s.
I don't think the significance of that is lost on Agatha, either, especially where we pick up at the beginning of 1.08. Lilia's dead, and everybody's reeling.
Perhaps Agatha more than anybody.
---
I also want to quickly take a look at Rio's accusation of Agatha regarding Billy.
"The bodies are really piling up." "Did you doubt me?" "Yeah, I did. I thought there'd be a trick in there somewhere. And there was! You were distracting me from him."
Because this is a revelation about Agatha's actions toward not just Rio, but any audience watching her - i.e., us the viewers. She's been distracting us! Not from who Billy is, we know that of course, but with regard to what the Road itself is. Agatha's known the Road isn't real the entire time. She's been protecting Billy from that knowledge. She's been protecting Billy from Rio. She's been protecting the coven itself from disintegrating. And, the biggest con woman move of them all, she's been distracting us - with less and less success as the show goes on - from the fact that she is not even the slightest bit in control.
---
So I definitely want to circle back to what you said about how the show started out with everything you like in a story, because oof, yeah, I felt that. I felt that hard in the finale. Coming off the impact of the incredible storytelling in 1.07, and the queer jokes and campy Wicked cosplay balancing out the sad, I think many of us spent the next week expecting some kind of emotional resolution that probably involved the remaining coven banding together in some more of that found family we've felt them becoming along the way.
Here's where things starts going wrong, right off the bat: they don't. Instead, they splinter. Not only are you aware of just how few of them are left (Jen, Billy, Agatha), but Jen and Agatha can't handle Lilia's death. Jen's distraught. The close up on Agatha running away out of the trial and back onto the Road, alone, shows her looking hunted and wild in her guilt. Everything that follows has its seeds in that moment of rending that began with Lilia's death.
From the beginning, the point has been that Agatha Harkness is a covenless witch. It's something we've seen her revel in - maybe simply because she has no choice but to own it. But the fact is that here, for the first time in centuries, she had a coven. She didn't intend to have one - she intended to kill them all in her basement and not think twice about them again. But events transpired the way they did. They became her coven. And one by one, they all died on the Road.
Rio, of course, has the words to cut right to the quick: "Your coven is shrinking," she teases Agatha cruelly. Agatha looks wild - because she's right. The worst thing is that she killed Alice - and she didn't mean to. She didn't want to. But she did, and in exactly the same way she'd intended to kill her at the beginning, the same way she's been killing witches for hundreds of years. "Your coven is shrinking," and it's Agatha's fault. It's Agatha's coven. It's Agatha's coven.
Hold on to that, too.
---
One of the things that I've been mulling over most is Agatha's character. She's so much fun in the beginning. We're all fucking charmed by her. We also don't have the full context of just how much of a serial killer she is.
So for me, at least, watching 1.08 and not only not getting found family, but getting an Agatha so far away from a "redemption" story that she only just barely is willing to not sacrifice Billy for herself, was kind of a rude awakening. Agatha's a lot more of a villain that I was prepared for. Surprise!
Agatha's so far away from "redemption", in fact, that she's only just barely starting to feel empathy for other witches. She's just starting to be affected by people who aren't #1. And that's a trauma response. And it's so, so, so deeply rooted in her that she's only just starting to be able to conceive of the idea of people who care for her. Of the possibility of being able to live in community. She's not ready for a redemption arc. There was no way that the kind of redemption arc she'd need could fit into nine episodes, because so much of it would for her be predicated on a mental shift that Agatha just hasn't arrived at yet. She's still so angry. She's still so traumatized. She's done almost none of the work. And even at the end, even with the final gesture of sacrificing herself for Billy, that's not a final act of redemption, oh Agatha's now a good person/forgiven/insert word frame of choice.
What this show did in terms of redemption for Agatha was set her up to be in a place where she might want it - where she might want to do and be better for Billy, and someday, for Nicky.
And it's significant that that point comes for Agatha in dying… and after death.
---
This show is about death. The Road is about death. Death is a character on the show.
Like, okay, you're saying. Fine. But what about my gay fun times? What about my queer romance, my found family?
And please know that I'm there with you.
I'm not hugely in touch with what the larger fandom is saying and how they're reacting because I have my little echo chamber here on tumblr and a few friends who have actual social media, but even here I get the sense that we're all kind of :/ for fairly similar reasons. What happened to the show I fell in love with?
And for me, the last few days, I think it's been important to realize that the fact that the show I fell in love with didn't suddenly become a different show. It didn't pull a bait and switch. No twists were in bad faith. Everything has been right here in the text of the show from the very beginning.
And I think it's important to see the story that Jac Schaeffer et al. were actually telling vs. our expectations of what they were telling, or worse, what we wanted them to tell. For just one example, I was convinced we were going to see Alice again - maybe Lorna Wu, too. I wasn't expecting it to be for the sole purpose of recognizing that not only is she dead, but to give Alice herself the space to say that it wasn't fair, that she wasn't ready, that she'd just broken her family's curse, that now she can really do something with her life! Because, ugh, yeah! It's not fair, for all those reasons! But that's also death. Likewise, Sharon's just dead, and worse, her death was pretty much meaningless. Lilia rediscovered herself again, and she chose her death to save everyone else - extremely meaningful. But at the end - she's just dead. We don't see her again. She's gone. She, like the others, walked the Road and away with Death.
I loved these covenless witches. I loved them finding themselves together. I loved them bonding around the campfire and discovering community. I miss them all, so so much. But they told us from the beginning how haunted by death all of them were: Alice and her mom, Lilia and her coven in Sicily, Billy and William Kaplan, Agatha and her son and her ex-lover. And of course, Death herself. Forget haunting these individuals - she came to actually join the temporary coven. Like, fuck. They told us what this show was about.
---
This show is about death, but it's more complicated than that: we'll take our cue from Rio again, who, in being Death, is also the original Green Witch. In short, this show is about Green Craft, "growth and decay in constant flow."
So yes - almost every single witch in the coven dies. Yes, it's permanent. No, the queer romance isn't resolved happily. No, Agatha doesn't have a redemption, satisfying or otherwise. And no, none of it follows what we've come to expect from found family story trajectories.
But the focus shouldn't be solely on the decay. There's a whole cycle of growth coming up after it, even now, and it's being made possible by the death and decay that we just witnessed. And most importantly, it's confirmed that this isn't the end of the story - just the end of "Agatha All Along."
---
I'll finish by actually answering your question - I've been sitting with the finale for a few days, because I also felt weird about it. And I think that's the right word: "Weird." Very spooky season-esque, first of all, but also not tipping all the way right into "bad".
The first thing to acknowledge is that no story is perfect - they were limited by nine episodes by what they had the space to show, and finales are really hard to get just right. The second is that you're allowed to not like any or all of it, especially when something happens that asks you to change your entire understanding of the story thus far, i.e. the Road isn't real, or when you have a particular trauma around death and it turns out that that's what the whole show is about in ways we hadn't fully realized. The third is that it's worth sitting with stories sometimes and seeing how they marinate and develop in your brain and your soul over time. All of these things can and should coexist.
This isn't my first go-round with a series finale that initially made me ???, so I was fortunate in that I felt like I had a cheat sheet. I've still got some marinating to do to see how this continues to change for me. But it's helped me to realize that my ??? reaction is what the story wanted me to have - that the characters are reeling right along with me. Not just Alice in shock about her death, but also Billy at the implications of his creation of the Road regarding his responsiblity for what happened on it. We're meant to feel this way… and then we're meant to reconsider the journey we've been on, the Road we've walked with all of them and the death we've died alongside them, and see it anew for what it really is.
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deoidesign · 11 months ago
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hi. I just read your entire comic in one go and I’ve gotta say I am in love with it. as a trans guy with hair that looks so much like Steve’s and who loves werewolves, I had to physically restrain myself from squealing out loud upon realizing he was trans, because I am currently living in a room with five other people in a small community in rural Alaska and didn’t want to explain to them the joys of seeing yourself in a character and then realizing “oh shit they’re trans like me”. I hope you are doing well, and may the gods of creativity and carpal tunnel bless you with much fruit in your artistic endeavors.
how could I ever show how deeply messages like this touch me... I never know what to say, I want so badly to have the proper words to show you how grateful I am
This is why I write. so that people get to feel like this, and I could never reflect that properly with just my words... But I want you to know that.
I hope to make something that is worthy of your love, and I hope every day that my work is sufficient to show I love you. so I'm relieved that it's succeeding and you feel seen.
Thank you for sharing this with me, I love you
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allylikethecat · 1 year ago
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Ahh just read the first ch of equestrian AU, cannot wait for more, I always love how you write Matty especially, I wanna know the backstory so bad!!
Just a q- as someone with a severe horse allergy I literally have no clue about the equestrian world (😬)... what do George & Matty do that they're working with horses? Is it like professional show jumping you see in the olympics some times as a job?
Thank you so much!! 🩵🩵🩵 I have so much fun writing him and all of my different fictionalized versions. Fictional!Matty is like my own personal little toy doll that I get to shove into all different situations and it's something i have so much fun doing!
(In my mind, fictional!Matty is 100% separate from IRL Matty, like they are not the same at all, they just share a name, a general likeness and a profession, Fictional!Matty is my own character and creation lol)
On that note, I have such a soft spot for this version of Fictional!Matty he's one of my favorites I think 🥹
Don't worry, all will be reveled in time, and you'll have to let me know if you think Fictional!George is being fair in his judgements or now 👀 I'm having so much fun writing Fictional!George as such a bitch as well!
I am so sorry to hear about your horse allergy oh my gosh, I can't even imagine, I would be so upset!
Yes, Fictional!Matty and Fictional!George are professional show jumpers - not quit on the level of the Olympics, but they are near the top of their sport. Training horses for the sport of show jumping, competing them, and coaching other riders is their job. In my little fictional world, Fictional!Jamie owns the barn they work at and is the "Head Trainer" however, injury and age means he does not ride as much himself anymore and primarily coaches from the ground. Fictional!George is his assistant trainer who in addition to teaching clients does most of the day to day riding and showing. Fictional!Matty has been brought on as a second assistant trainer, primarily to work with more of the beginner clients / kids in addition to helping ride. I hope that makes sense - I am realizing now how insane this industry sounds to people who are not involved in it 😂
Thank you so much for this ask, for reading, and your kind words about my writing! I smiled so much while reading it! I hope you have a great weekend and continue to enjoy what comes next!
❤️Ally
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tokkiwrites · 5 months ago
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Hi happy holidays! Can you please do a Sergei kravinoff smut x innocent female virgin reader “babe in the woods” trope. Sergei is immediately fixated on reader and wants her to be his grude & mother of his children. He immediately marries and later takes her virginity. He hopes to impregnate her from their first time together. Ty!
thank you for this request, anon! and sorry it took so long to post. I've had it written, but it just took a while for me to get the smut part going. i hope you like it!
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Sergei Kravinoff × F!Reader ♰ themes of stalking, obsessive Sergei, kidnapping, Kraven is a weirdo and needs to be locked up, i would say innocent reader but more so an unbothered reader kind of, she is just confused, forced marriage, themes of Stockholm syndrome, loss of virginity, fingering (reader receiving), afab reader, unprotected p in v, Sergei wants to get the reader pregnant.
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The woods were quiet, save for the whisper of wind threading through the branches above. You loved this time of day when the sun filtered gold and green through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the earth. It was your sanctuary, far from the clamor of town and the heavy, watchful eyes of others. Here, no one could accuse you of being strange, or sheltered, or too naive. You simply were.
The faint crack of a branch made you stop mid-step, your basket of wildflowers swinging lightly at your hip. “Hello?” You called, voice soft, hesitant. The forest had always been safe— or so it felt. until now, you had never had the need to question it.
He emerged from the shadows, and your breath caught. The man was massive. A towering figure, his broad shoulders draped in animal pelts and his chest bare save for the crisscrossing scars that marked him as something primal, dangerous. His face was angular, carved from stone, with piercing eyes that pinned you where you stood.
Sergei Kravinoff. The name would mean nothing to you, but to others, it struck fear—a hunter of men and beasts, a predator who bent the wilderness to his will. He did not speak at first. He only looked at you, as if you were some rare, delicate creature he had stumbled upon. The longer his eyes lingered, the hotter your cheeks burned.
“Who are you?” you asked, clutching the basket to your chest. His lips curved into a smile, though there was nothing warm in it. “I am Sergei,” he said, his voice low, thick with an accent you couldn’t place. “And you" he paused for a bit. " Should not wander alone in places like this. The world is not kind to lambs.” You blinked at him, confused. “Lambs?”
“You,” he clarified, taking a step closer. His sheer presence seemed to draw the air from your lungs. “Soft. Untouched. So trusting.” You took an instinctive step back, and his smile widened, as if he enjoyed your unease. “I—I’ve never seen you here before. Are you lost?”
“No,” he said simply, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. “But perhaps I have found something worth staying for.”
It reeked of dangerㅡ death. yet you still came back.
Over the next week, you saw him again and again. Always in the woods, always watching. At first, you told yourself it was a coincidence. this strange man simply shared your love for the forest. But his presence became impossible to ignore. He never tried to speak much, yet his eyes seemed to devour you every time, as though he were committing every detail of your face to memory. You should have been afraid. You should have stopped going to the woods entirely. But something about him fascinated you. He was so unlike the boys in town, who stammered and avoided your gaze, intimidated by your quietness. Sergei was bold, unflinching. He seemed to look right through you, to the parts of yourself you didn’t even understand.
you little lamb.
“Why do you keep following me?” He tilted his head, his gaze softening though not entirely. “Because you are mine.” The bluntness of his words made your breath hitch. “I don’t even know you.”
“You will,” he said, stepping closer. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and though you should have flinched away, you didn’t. His touch was surprisingly gentle, reverent even, even if his rough fingers scratched your skin. “I have decided. You will be my bride.”
“Bride?” You echoed the word foreign and strange on your tongue. “But we’ve only just—” you laughed. surely it must be a joke. “You are meant for me, little lamb” he interrupted, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “I have hunted all my life, little one. I know when I have found my prize.” Suddenly, the world went dark.
maybe it was all just a bad and confusing dream. though his touch still lingered.
You woke in the morning to find yourself not in your small, familiar room. outside the window that overlooked the bed you were in, the forest. The air smelled of pine and smoke, and outside, the trees loomed tall and unyielding. Panic gripped you as you sat up, heart racing. “Where—” The door creaked open, and there he was, filling the frame with his imposing presence. “You are awake,” Sergei said, his tone calm, almost pleasedㅡ excited. He carried a tray with food: fresh berries, bread, and cheese. “Eat. Now."
“Where am I?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Why did you—” He set the tray down, cutting you off with a look. “You are safe. That is all you need to know.”
“I am not! This isn’t right,” you said, tears pricking at your eyes. “You can’t just—”
“I can,” he said sharply, though his expression softened as he stepped closer. “I have waited long enough. You do not understand, but you will. I will take care of you. Protect you. You will want for nothing, my little one.”
You shook your head, backing away from him, but he caught your wrist with startling ease. His touch was firm, yet not cruel. “Do not fear me,” he murmured, his voice dropping to something almost tender. “I would never hurt you. You are too precious.”
Sergei did not wait long to make you his.
The days in the cabin blurred together, each one steeped in an odd rhythm. Sergei’s presence was constant, protective, and overwhelming. He would watch you eat, his sharp eyes softening whenever you complied. He brought you small gifts: wildflowers, trinkets carved from wood, pelts to keep you warm. He never let you wander far, always ensuring you were within sight. And though he never forced his touch upon you, you could feel the tension thrumming beneath the surface, like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.
In the evening, as the fire crackled and cast flickering shadows on the walls, Sergei sat across from you. He leaned forward, large hands resting on his knees. “It is time,” he said, his voice calm but unyielding. “Time?” you echoed, your throat dry. “For us to marry.” You stared at him, heart pounding. “I… I can’t. I don’t even know what you want from me. I—I never— You kidnapped me!”
“You were made for this,” he said, cutting you off. his eyes were setting you a-light, it made your skin prickle. “You think I do not see it? Your purity. Your innocence. You were meant to be a wife. My wife.” Tears burned in your eyes, but you blinked them away. “But I’m not— I need to marry someone I love!"
“You are ready,” he insisted, his tone softening only slightly. “I have waited long enough. It will be done."
And it was.
The ceremony was simple, ritualistic. Sergei had prepared everything. rings made from woven silver, a bearskin cloak to drape over your shoulders as a symbol of protection. There was no priest, no people, only the two of you and the forest as your witness. He spoke vows in a language you did not understand, his voice deep and reverent, as though he were offering you up to some ancient force. When it was your turn, your voice faltered, but under his watchful gaze, you repeated the words he taught you.
“You are mine,” he said at the end, taking your face in his hands. His eyes burned with possessive fire. “And I am yours.”
but every wolf gets hungry eventually.
When night fell, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands clutching the thick wool blanket. Sergei entered the room, his movements slow and deliberate. He had shed his usual pelts, his bare chest glowing in the firelight.
“You are trembling,” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it. He knelt in front of you, his massive frame now not so intimidating. “Are you afraid of me?” You couldn’t meet his eyes. "I don’t know... what you expect from me? What you w-want...”
“I expect you to trust me,” he said simply, his hand brushing against your cheek. “You are my wife now. It is my duty to show you what that means.” Your breath stopped as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “I will not hurt you,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “But you are mine, little lamb. Every part of you.”
His lips met yours— soft at first, testing, as though he feared you might shatter like porcelain. But when you didn’t pull away, his kiss deepened, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His hands cradled your face, his touch reverent, almost worshipful.
“I have waited for this,” he said against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Waited to claim what is mine.” You didn’t resist as he laid you down, his hands tracing over your trembling form. He was patient, guiding you gently, his touch surprisingly tender for someone so fierce. But his intent was clear.
oh, little lamb.
rugged hands make their way up and around your hips as his bearded face stays flush against your tender neck. he was ready to devour you. Sergei looked up into your eyes and for the first time you've seen him smile. and as if all of the things you felt caused you fears melted away, so did you into his embrace.
his lips meet yours, and it all finally made sense. you could feel the hunger, the will in him to give his all right here, right now. you wrapped around him like vines on a tree, his low growl of approval making you clench around nothing. it all felt so new, yet familiar, as if somehow, this wasn't the first time. the forest outside sung as your quiet moans filled the cabin. Sergei discards all of your clothes with ease, leaving you in nothing as you stayed splayed on the bed. the fur coverings under, pooled around your body, the moonlight dripped on you like dew in spring and you looked like a precious painting.
with no time to wait, sergei quickly gets naked. it wasn't the first time you saw him like this, but it was the first time you saw it. to say all that fear bubbled up into your stomach was an understatement. you gulped down as your glossy eyes looked at him up and down. "Spread your legs for me." it wasn’t a request, it was an order. and you obey. spreading your legs you give him a full view of you dripping cunt, and sergei throws his head back with a low groan. you finally speak up. "IㅡI am a...a virgin." it all seemed so silly to say now. "I know." he smiles in the corner of his mouth. "Smelled it on you the first time we met." and you whimper. "I will get you ready now." somehow, you knew what it meant. He kneels in front of you on the bed, pulling you so that you thighs are right over his, your puffy lips on full display. two of his digits make their way up to your mouth. "Suck." you comply.
after that was done, his calloused fingers make their way between your folds, gathering up the juices you've been dripping. You whimpered softly and Sergei shushed you, rubbing small circles on your plushy thigh with his other hand. He pushes one of his fingers inside, and you can feel it. It didn’t hurt, not yet, it was just strange and new. the second finger comes quick after and he starts pumping them, swirling them around as his lips made contact with your swollen bud. Your eyes jot open as this feeling washes over you, and you can't help but let your legs shake uncontrollably. The fire wave envelopes you whole before it comes to an agonizing stop. You open your eyes again and above you is Sergei, his shaft in his hand as he aligns it with your asking entrance. "If it hurts...yell. Scream as much as you want. Hurt me back. I am here to teach you."
and teach you he does. he pushes in slowly and the stretch is agonizing, the pain making all of your muscles tense. "It's alright, I'm here, little girl." you let out a sigh, the tears slipping past your lids when you open your eyes. the moon engulfed Sergei in It's beautiful light, his silhouette looking as if it was carved out perfectly. a couple of inches, then some more, and some moreㅡ until he is fully inside. you bite down on your tongue, but Sergei preps soft kisses along your jaw and you seem to forget about the pain. "You're doing so, so good. So good for me." he hums, taking in a big breath of your smell before he snaps his hips slowly. In a few seconds, the burn turned into a delicious feeling you couldn’t quite describe. And though it felt so new, your body fell in place right into Sergei’s touch, as if it were meant to be.
When he finally started to move faster, his groan was one of triumph, a sound that you know will echo in your ears long after. “You will give me childrenㅡ" he said, voice low and ragged as he moved inside of you. “Strong sons and daughters. Our legacy will begin tonight.”
your legs quiver around him, but he leaves no room for mercy. Above you, he looked just as a predator ready to swallow his pray whole. you weren't one to fight back, and you really didn't want to. you back stayed arched against the coverings of the bed, fingers clawing at his broad shoulders as he pumped into you. your tummy was churning, and your head was dizzyㅡ you were far gone, too drunk on the way he perfectly hit that spot with each thrust. "You were made for me, made to take meㅡ fuck, you are so beautiful." you whimper, feeling that fire wave starting to take over again. your velvet walls squeeze around him, causing him to growl. Sergei leans forward, propping one of your legs above his shoulder, the angle making you gasp for air. you look up at him, eyes glossy with tears. An animal. His eyes grew darker, lips crooked in a smile before he delivered his final blow.
you come undone right under his fingertips, writhing and shaking as small pleads fall from your lips. You can feel his seed deep within you, threatening to slip out around his cock that was still inside of you, pulsing. "Good girl."
he prays it sticks.
Sergei’s obsession with you only deepened—he barely let you out of his sight, his touch lingering whenever he could. Yet there was a softness in him, a desire to make you happy, even as he bent you to his will.
He began teaching you small things. how to tend the fire, how to skin an animal, how to defend yourself should a predator come. But you were never allowed to go far. “Why can’t I leave?” you asked one afternoon, your frustration bubbling over. Sergei turned to you, his eyes darkening. “Because the world is cruel, little one. It will devour you. You are too soft, too trusting. Here, you are safe.”
“Safe,” you repeated bitterly. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze softening. “I would rather you hate me than lose you.” you were beginning to see the truth of it. his love for you was consumin and obsessive, but it was real. He worshipped you, protected you, but at the cost of your freedom. And yet, part of you began to adapt. To find comfort in his arms, in the way he looked at you as though you were the only thing that mattered.
Perhaps you were.
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omgafhsfanin2025 · 1 year ago
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umnm ummm
you mentioned some kids made fun of loren (was it because of the eye or was it because of a different or multiple reasons?), does he know that her brother used to be bullied as well? (well. if your version of felix was bullied like in canon, that is.)
and does felix, perhaps, see himself in loren whenever he's being picked on or made fun of? (as in. does she remind him of himself when he was younger?)
Loren has always been a "weird" kid and has always kind of treated poorly by her peers, but the real bullying (as in, kids insulting and Hurting her directly) started shortly after he came back to school.
It started with kids looking at her weird and saying she looked funny (at first, she didn't wear the "shadow" glass eye, he wore a blue eye that resembled her real eye she lost, but the scars from the incident and surgeries were very visible), that didn't bother him a lot, but as the time went by, the poking fun got more persistent, and it got harder for Lori to pretend it didn't make him feel bad.
As for Felix, I like to think that he had trouble with bullies for all middle school, and for Loren it was no secret.
When Felix was in the third year of middle school Loren was starting it, and they would always met during recess, either at a hall or in the school's yard.
When Loren told Felix that some kids in her class would poke fun of him, Felix got worried she'd pass middle school like he did, or even worse because of his condition. He wouldn't get too defensive as to be controlling his whole school year, but when they'd meet at recess Felix would make sure she was alright and even presented his group to Loren (who became friends with everyone pretty quickly), and sometimes even demanding to talk to the mean kid directly in case his little sibling was particularly hurt (physicaly or emotionally) because of whatever the kid did.
And yet, The Older fox forgot to teach his dear, dear sibling how to deal with teasing when him or his friends wouldn't be there to defend her.
All of the funtimes started high school while Loren was still in middle school, and while she did have many friends, none of them were as close to him as the Funtimes were.
Loren is not a pussy and managed to take care of any particularly mean kid that picked on her (sometimes getting himself in trouble in the process) but, every time things wouldn't work out as Lori planned and she came home crying, or with visible bruising or cuts from fights, Fèlix couldn't help but see the little, defenseless and weak kid he used to be, and thinks of how he could have changed things, he could have taught Loren how to be stronger... But he forgot. And, even if Loren had taught herself many things, some times Felix couldn't help but feel that he was a bad brother, that got too obsessed on keeping his sibling safe that he forgot to teach him to fight for herself when he's not there, Especially after acting so selfish with her for years.
Loren never thought about those things. Actually she thinks her brother is very neat. Yeah he didn't really like him when he used to be mean to her but now he's a very chill guy.
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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 4 months ago
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Hello! I would like to make a request about Dae-Ho, a character I love. I would like the story to show how Dae-Ho and the reader develop a special connection during the games, despite being on opposite sides. She is part of Thanos' team, but they still interact frequently. On one of those nights, they kiss and promise to get to know each other better once it's all over. However, that promise is not fulfilled because she dies in the carousel game.
I hope this story fits the bill. Happy holidays! <3
Anything Is Possible?
KANG DAE-HO X READER
Summary- You are number 230's, rapper Choi Su-bong, sister. Just because you are on 'Thanos Team', does that mean you can Dae-Ho cant get together? Will you survive long enough?
Warnings- Squid Games, Angst, mentions of blood, murder, and death
A/N- I combined this ask with another anon request, "badass reader and daeho! maybe she is related to 100 and that's why the romance is kind of forbidden but she doesn't agree with his actions and thinks daeho is very cute. I would love a first kiss between the two, which she initiated and he was all embarrassed but really excited" I hope y'all don't mind, they were very similar!
Word Count- 4,605
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"What is your problem!" You found yourself yelling at your brother. While this was not uncommon, the situation surely was. Thanos the rapper, or just known as Choi Su-bong to you, had pushed several people down on purpose. This killed them in the Red light, Green light game.
"You killed them!" You continued, though he did not seem to care.
"Look, as far as 'The Thanos' is concerned, each body means more cash for MOI!" He spoke, uncaring.
"Oh, and if it was me, would you let me get shot!" You crossed your arms, eyeing him up and down.
He looked around, checking for any guards. He then slipped out his cross form under his shirt. You knew he had some kind of drug in there.
"Look, if it will shut you up, you can have one. But keep your mouth closed!" He ushered his cross in your direction. You rolled your eyes.
"I'd like to at least be aware of my surrounding in a death defying game!" "Shhh, Shhhh!" His face scrunched up as he looked at you, offended. He thought someone might have been drawn to your choice words.
You scoffed and walked off, sitting on the edge of a bed to catch a train of thought.
With a puff, you pressed your head into your hands. Could you really go on like this? Risking your life? Then it hit you, your life was over either way. Loan sharks were bound to kill you the second you left... Might as well go out with a bang?
The gruesome thought lingered until you felt the bed sink next to you.
"Thanos, I don't want to-" You looked up to not see your brother. Instead a man with a '388' on his jacket.
"Well I'm not sure who 'Thanos' is, but are you doing okay?" He looked genuinely concerned.
You started at him for a second, "Like fifty people just died..."
He faltered, "W-well yeah... Obviously you aren't okay... I just, I saw you arguing with that guy... The one with purple hair." You sigh again at his response. Well, this might be the last conversation you ever have. Why not be an open book!
"That's my brother. He thinks since he got one hit song, he can boss anyone around." You again rolled your eyes at the thought of him.
"Oh... I see. I-I have three older sisters, I know how it can get." He said, trying to offer you some sort of condolence.
You gave a side smile at him, appreciative of his efforts. "Thanks... What got you into these games?" You figured there's no reason for 'proper exchanges.' What was the point anymore?
He seemed ashamed at the question. "Sorry, if it makes you feel any better- I'm about 30 million won in debt. Some online crypto coin my brother swindled me into. Lost big time." You explained.
He shook his head, "No, no, its fine. See, I was a marine. Couldn't find a job after I got out. Guess I just got carried away with the wrong people... Got into some bad loans."
You gave a sympathetic face. "That sucks..." He just nodded sheepishly.
A silence fell between you two, but it wasn't awkward or annoying. It just...was.
"Well, uh, which are you going to vote?" He asked like it had been on the tip of his tongue all day.
As the Guards had told us earlier, we would get a chance to vote before the next game. Stay or Go.
"My brother seems pretty adamant on staying... And I honestly don't think it would be smart to piss him off anymore. He's got me in his little clique already." You didn't really know which one you would have chosen if the vote was anonymous.
He nodded in understanding. "I mean, I don't have a groupie or anything. But, you could stick with me if you wanted."
Your heart fluttered. Looking up at him, you seemed to just notice how handsome he was... Then reality hit.
"I deeply appreciate that... But I think you might have better odds without me. Choi- uh Thanos, would probably do something to you... I don't really want to risk it, I'm sorry." You knew that you really did want to be on his team, but you also knew how your brother was.
He had a slight look of defeat on his face, "I get it. I feel confident about the next game. I mean, if they're all children games, how hard can it be? I'll vote the same as you."
You agreed, "Then, maybe I can talk to Thanos? See if he wants another member?" You smiled at him.
He opened his mouth to speak, happily, but the two of you were interrupted when the pink guards came back in. Letting everyone know it was time to vote.
"See ya on the other side." You said, standing up to rejoin Thanos. Plus his newly acquired group of 3.
"Yes ma'am!" He responded, giving a small salute. You just laughed as you glanced at him a last time.
------------------------------------------
"Are you crazy!" Thanos whisper-yelled at you, turning the two of you away from the group. "Are you tryna embarrass me in front of my boys!" He scolded you like a child. His arms and shoulders going up.
"It's not that big of a deal, he was a marine, he could be good for us." Thanos just "tsked' in response.
"No. We are already perfecto. No more room." He said as-a-matter-of-fact. His arms making an 'X.'
You turned and looked at the two men staring at you. "Thanos, there are four of us in total. What if the next game is five players!"
"Huh, and what if its four! Then I'd be pushing YOU out, Cause of ya mouth." He made faces at you, then laughed loudly. "I'm just joking sistah! I'd only do that if you really pissed me off.... We are sticking to four." His expression turned serious.
"Fine."
At a mere coincidence, you turned around and saw '388' staring at you. You mouthed a 'sorry' and shook your head. Signalling Thanos said 'no.'
He nodded, then smiled at you anyways. At that, you watched him walk over and sit with a group of 'X's.
------------------------------------------
The lights soon went out. You laid back in your bed, trying to get some kind of sleep. It was useless, especially when you heard a 'psst' right next to you.
You turned your head, playing cool, even though it did startle you a bit. "Shh, It's just me." The voice rang familiar, and when you squinted your eyes in the dark your made out number 388's face. He was on his knees, crouched down next to your bed.
"What are you doing!" You whispered at him, sitting up quickly. Thanos and his two members were just a bed away.
"Shhhh, I have something to tell you." He said, his hands were waving slightly, a nervous tick.
You eyed him, moving closer. "What?"
"One of the guys has played these before. He said he won the games...That he knows which one is next."
Your hands rise to rub sleep from your eyes, "Really? You think he's telling the truth?"
With a frantic nod he continues, "It was the guy who knew about the Red light, Green light. Number 456."
You looked down, "Why are you telling me this..." You questioned, unaware of any kind of unconditional kindness.
"I want you to survive, why else?" You locked eyes with him. They were honest and pure.
"Well, what's the next game?" You didn't know how to respond to such generosity. For all he knew you would stab him in the back. Not that you could bring yourself to, not after he snuck over to tell you.
"He said its Dalgona. Ya know, the game where you scratch out the candy shape?" You knew the game, having played it in your youth.
"Make sure you pick the Triangle. It's the easiest one." You nodded.
At that, a shuffle made both of you turn your head. Thanos moved in his sleep, rolling over. His eyes were closed, but he was now facing you.
"You better go, in case he wakes up." You warned, not wanting any drama.
His head shook in agreeance, he raised to walk off.
"Wait!" You whispered, he looked back. "What's your name?"
"Dae-Ho. Dae-ho Kang."
"Thank you, Dae-ho..." The corners of your face rose, almost grinning at yourself saying his name.
He gave a small wave of his hand, another salute. You suppressed a giggle, and laid back down. Sleep came easier this time...
------------------------------------------
"Welcome to your second game, this game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five in the next ten minutes."
You looked around, Dalgona was not a team game. Had Dae-Ho lied to you? No, why else would he sneak over in the middle of the night. It didn't make sense. Maybe 456 was lying?
"Should have listened to me, now we have to find another person." You remarked to your brother, smugly.
"Trust trust, my skeptic sister. Thanos has got this under control!" He spoke about himself, immediately levitating to the closest attractive women. You, once again, found yourself rolling your eyes.
"Señorita, excuse me?" You wanted to physically face palm at his attempt at a pickup line.
------------------------------------------
Quickly enough, time selection was up. Everyone was orderly sat in their groups. Conveniently, Dae-Ho and his group sat behind you.
"Dae-Ho." You called, moving to be in his range of sight.
"Ahh, hey!" He said, excitedly. His demeanor changing from skittish when he saw you.
"So, what happened to Dalgona?" You asked, not blaming him- just curious.
He gave an unsure face, equally as confused. "He said the games must not be the same. I'm sorry."
"What for?" You beamed, knowing it was not his fault.
He laughed, "I guess I don't know.."
You just shook your head humorously. "Which game are you going to do?"
"Uhmm, Gong-Gi... My sister's played it a lot, so I'm used to it."
"They've got me doing spinning top. I was never any good at Gong-Gi." You made a glance to Thanos, he was high out of his mind. You caught him slipping Nam-Gyu a pill. He didn't notice you talking to Dae-Ho.
"I wish you the best of luck!" He gave a quick bow of the head.
------------------------------------------
The game went smoothly enough. Though, it took much longer than Red light, Green light. Watching all of the teams go one at a time was excruciating.
A handful of words exchanged with Dae-Ho while waiting was calming, it grounded you. He had nothing to gain by helping you, he simply did. It was flattering.
You and Dae-Ho had figured out that his team was going last. It was nerve-wracking to think about him not making it. No one had ever effected you like this before...
Eventually your team went, suffering frequent verbal degration from Thanos and Nam-Gyu. Thankfully your team made it with 8 seconds to spare. Too close for your comfort.
The worst part came when you had to wait. You felt like you could hear a large clock ticking right by your ear.
Would Dae-Ho's team make it? You didn't doubt his Gong-Gi skills, but he was dependent on the skills of his team mates as well. It was terrifying to think they were shot with not enough time to complete the games.
You couldn't bare Thanos bantering, he complained about every survivor. It just made you more paranoid about Dae-Ho's possible death.
Trying to settle your mind, you stepped away from your group, preferring to sit by yourself on the edge on the steps. You picked at your nails, praying he would make it.
Minutes and minutes went by. No one had come out in a while. Was the game finished? Did they die?
Just as you were about to return to your brother hopeless, one last group appeared.
A gasp left you as you watched Dae-Ho's team emerge. You stood up, cheering with a handful of other players. Your hands were clasped gleefully In front of you.
Dae-Ho's gaze was fixed on you, he chuckled. His first raised in victory.
You gave him a salute back.
------------------------------------------
You managed to slip away from Thanos. He was too busy hitting on Se-Mi. You were grateful for her, it took some of the pressure and attention off of you. You had to remember to thank her later.
"Dae-Ho!" You called out, he turned around and stepped away from his group.
"You were amazing! You went 'Wooshhh' and got the top first try!" He was practically bouncing on his heels. He mimicked the process of spinning a top with his hands and body.
"Thank you, Thank you." You pretended like you were bowing to an applauding audience.
"How did Gong-Gi go?" You asked, antsy. He rubbed the back on his neck.
He grinned deep, "Would you believe me if I said I got it first try too?"
Your face lit up, "Really!"
"I swear it!" He placed a hand across his chest.
You gave a quick clap to him, "I knew you could do it!"
You felt like a schoolgirl again. Talking to Dae-Ho made you feel like a blushing bride. He was such a ray of light and hope for you.
"What do you think the next game is?" He questioned, taking a seat on a step by the large doors.
You thought for a second, "I don't know, Maybe some kind of mind game. Since the last two have been really physical."
He nodded, "Yeah, maybe, maybe. Thats smart thinking."
You joined him on the step facing him. While you were about to change the conversation, you overheard a few people talk about what they were voting next. It reminded you of the real life-or-death situation you were in.
"So, d'ya think you're going to change your vote?" You became more solemn.
"...Yeah, I just... The others have convinced me. I mean, truly, I shouldn't have voted 'stay' in the first place..." He looked down, almost as if he had disappointed you.
"Honestly, Dae-Ho... I want to leave too... But, but, what if I press 'leave', and we still have to continue the games. Then Thanos would be pissed, and deep down I need him. He's still my brother." You hated the fact, but you were scared of what Thanos would do.
Dae-Ho thought for a moment. He mumbled something you didn't quite catch. "What?" He stood up.
"I can protect you. Honest. With my life." Your breath hitched, you stood up as well.
You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. "Oh Dae-Ho... That's just the thing. I can't have you risking your life. Not for me."
He gently lifted your hands into his. "You are worth risking my life for."
"Dae-Ho, you don't even know my name." Your voice quivered.
He nodded quick, "Then lets change that. What's your name." You bit your bottom lip before telling him.
"Now, I can defend you from Thanos. He won't do anything to do." He ended with your name, it sounded angelic coming from his mouth.
"I'm sorry... I just... can't." You let go of his hands, fully set on walking away. But, he stopped you. He grasped your shoulder.
"Please don't go. I'll stop talking about it, I swear." He pleaded. He truly just wanted to be with you, he was content with you.
And you were with him.
You closed your eyes, shook your head. You fought off any kind of objection. "Okay."
The two of you talked and talked, time ran past. You no longer seemed to worry about the games, just that you knew you wanted to stay with Dae-Ho.
Until, the large doors opened and the pink guards once again announced a vote.
You said a quick 'goodbye' to Dae-ho, hoping the games wouldn't continue. Even if you never saw him again, at least he would be alive.
------------------------------------------
Much to your dismay, the games would continue another round. The vote wasn't even close this time. It was almost relieving, knowing that your vote was not the determining factor.
Once again, the lights went out to signify the night. You noticed teams were huddling together for protection, taking shifts and keeping watch. It was getting more serious as each hour went by. You could not find rest, feeling extremely uneasy.
While you tried to find some sort of reassurance in Thanos, he was fast asleep. You decided to take your chance and go see Dae-Ho. Just as he had done for you.
You knew the general area where his group was, but couldn't make out specific people in the dark. Not from your distance.
You racked up the nerve to quietly shuffle over. Your socks helping to muffle any noise.
"Shh, someone is coming." You heard a man whisper, it was 456. You could see the large numbers next to the 'O' on his jacket.
"I-is Dae-Ho with you..." You ask, shakily.
"And what do you want with him?" A man next to 456 spoke, defensively.
"I- Hes my friend, I need to talk to him." You tried, fiddling with your fingers.
"Yeah, Sure he is. You're probably trying to get in and take one of us out, huh!" The man 390 rose, acting like he was ready to fight.
You stepped back, "No, really, I swear I'm not!"
You heard your name, a confused Dae-Ho crawled out from under a bed. "Dae-Ho, please tell them in not trying to kill any of you."
"What?" He was still weary from sleep, rubbing his eyes. Once he saw the position you and 390 were in, He quickly stepped between the two of you.
"No, No, she wouldn't do that. Really, whatever shes saying she's telling the truth." Dae-Ho came to your rescue.
"Can we talk Dae-Ho?" You stepped closer to him, both of your hands gently resting on his arm. He nodded rapidly, stepping away from his group.
The two of you found a cluster of abandoned beds, and sat on the floor between them
"Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?" He looked you over for any visible infliction's.
"No, no I'm fine..." You pulled your knees to your chest. "I just wanted to see you." You felt silly once it left your lips.
His face flushed beet red, you could even tell in the dark. His hair falling in his face made you reach a hand out and brush it back. "O-oh"
"You never told me what you think the next game is, Dae-Ho." You needed a distraction.
He shook his head, like he was getting some thoughts out. "I have no idea... I just hope its an easy one. Gi-Hun, uh 456, said that they've already played Tug-of-war, Marbles, and some kind of glass stepping game. So, uh, I would assume none of those would repeat."
"I'm glad I missed Tug-of-war... That would mean the number of survivors would be half..." You thought.
He changed the subject, beginning with your name. "What's wrong? I know you said you wanted to see me, but, I guess I don't understand why."
"Dae-Ho, I don't really know why either. I just, wanted to be with you. I feel safe with you. I feel like I'm alone anytime you walk away..." You blinked away a stray tear.
Dae-Ho was lost in thought, he had thought his feelings weren't reciprocated. Maybe they were after all?
He didn't have time to speak, because you have lounged yourself forward in a burst of confidence. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and pushed him to the floor. He was laid on his back with you on top of him, as you pressed a hard kiss to his lips.
His eyes widened, his body went rigid. When you pulled away to look at him, he stammered. "I-I, Uhm."
At his reaction you pulled away quickly, "I'm so sorry, I thought-"
"Can you please do that again." He was now giddy, a fat smile on his face. Excitement radiated out of him. "A-are you sure.. You seemed so..."
"No, no, you just caught me off guard, please, please kiss me again." He scrambled to a sit, hoping you would come closer again.
With a refound joy, you moved closer. This time you went slow, making sure to bask in the moment. You once again wrapped your arms around Dea-Ho's neck, pulling him in for a kiss.
"You're perfect.." He mumbled against your lips. Though, he felt something wet on his face. He pulled away, his eyes soft, "Whats wrong?"
You sniffled, "Promise me. Promise me, that after everything is over, that we will find each other." You asked, pressing your cheek against his.
"I swear it, I swear we will meet after the games." He leaned in for another kiss.
------------------------------------------
"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle."
Okay, this one seemed safe. You had a large group, this can work. You tried to be positive, you had someone to look forward to after the game.
"Heyyy, we'll be mingling together. Doesn't that sound like so much fun?" Thanos went on, trying to hype everyone up. The only one who was just as high as him was Nam-Gyu. It worried you that he wasn't fully aware of his surroundings, but at least he wasn't on your tail about everything.
"Please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."
You nodded, understanding the rules. Everyone gathered to the platform. You noticed groups staying together, huddling close.
While following Thanos, you passed Dae-Ho's group, you caught his eye and gave him a small salute. It seemed the two of you now had an inside joke.
"Let the game, begin."
At the jump and pull of the platform, you almost lost your balance. You reached a hand out and held onto your brother. He looked over at you, for a split second he actually seemed like your brother. He was there for you.
That's until a muffled snort came from Nam-Gyu. Thanos pushed your hand off, laughing at you.
You sighed and thought of a smart remark, but the platform stopped spinning and a 'Ten' rang out.
Thanos laughed loudly, "We needa four!!" He screamed, shaking his face all about.
"Were four!" A man yelled back, and Thanos took off running. Your eyes widened and you ran after him. "Run, Hurry!" You yelled at Se-Mi, who had stopped to grab Min-Su.
Luckily everyone had made it to the room, just as the door shut the timer went off. The door locked shut. You peaked out of the doors small slit. You didn't see Dae-Ho. A good sign.
Multiple gunshots rang out, each making your body jolt.
"Ha Ha! My family! We did it!" Thanos bantered, clapping some of the men on their backs.
When the doors finally opened again, you looked around. You looked and looked for Dae-Ho. Finally sighing in relief when you saw him. He ran over to you.
"You're okay, thank God!" He hugged you, you held him tight.
You swallowed hard, "It's not over yet. I'll find you after the next round!" You said, quickly finding Thanos again.
"Yeahhhh! Easyyy!" Him and Nam-Gyu joked back and forth. They started dancing to the music as the platform started rotating again.
'Four'
Thanos stopped and looked at his group for a minute. "Gyeong-su, you're with me!" He grabbed his hand, pulling him.
"Damn!" Nam-Gyu said, gripping your arm and pulling you. While you were happy to be chosen, you were worried for Min-su and Se-Mi.
"Lets goooo!" Thanos yelled once we were all in the room.
"Thanos what was that! Gyeong-su over me!" You pointed your finger at him.
"I swear I thought I was pulling you! Besides, you gotta stop running your mouth. You made it, you're fine!"
You couldn't believe what he was saying. Sure, he talked a lot about leaving you. But it was always just talk? Right?
The door opened once again, you were thankful to be away from Thanos. Your new objective was to find Dae-Ho now.
This time, the second you saw him- you ran to him. You no longer cared about what Thanos thought, nor what he'd do.
"I'm so happy to see you." Dae-Ho mumbled into your hair, which his face had been shoved into right after you ran into his arms.
"I have to stay with you, Thanos tried to leave me. I can't make it with him." Dae-Ho didn't hesitate, and pulled you over to his group.
Though, Thanos didn't like that. "Yo, brotha. What're you doing with my sister!" He tried to shove Dae-Ho, but he was bigger and stronger.
The platform started to spin.
"Leave her alone, you obviously cant take care of your sister." He ushered you behind him.
"I don't know what you're talking about bro! I save her, shes only alive because of me and Nam-Gyu!" He argued, leaving out the crucial part of information where he wasn't the one who grabbed you.
"It doesn't matter anymore. I will keep her safe now, you can mind your own business and get along with Nam-Gyu."
They continued to yell and argue over the carousel's music, it was difficult to hear them. Until,
'Three'
Thanos gripped one of your arms, Dae-Ho held another.
"Thanos, let go!" You yelled, trying to pull from his grasp.
It was chaotic, screaming was heard around you. "Dae-Ho, this way!" Two men yelled out, Dae-Ho twisted his head but didn't move.
Your stomach dropped. You couldn't be the reason Dae-Ho would die. You were all running out of time.
"Dae-Ho, go. Please! I'll go with Thanos and Nam-Gyu!"
"I'm not leaving you!" He was adamant about protecting you. Damned everyone else.
"If you don't go, we will all die. Time is running out!" Dae-Ho battled internally, you let go of his hand.
"Go! It's okay, I'll see you in a minute!"
He didn't want to leave, he couldn't. But you made him. When he slowly walked backwards, you let out a relived sigh. You then turned to run with Thanos. Nam-Gyu was already in a room, his yelling ushering you two forward.
It was going to be okay, The three of you in a room. Everything was fine. There was time.
Until, Nam-Gyu moved out of the way... Gyeong-su was behind him... There was already two in the room. Thanos ran in, not thinking twice.
Your running came to a stop right outside of the door. Where Thanos himself had closed it on you.
A "NO!" Was heard from across the room. It was Dae-Ho. He tried to come to you, but he was too far.
Player 456 and player 001 were pulling him into a room. Forcing the door shut. You could see Dae-Ho looking out of the door slit, his hands peaking out as well.
You didn't turn to see what Thanos might have been doing. You didn't care. Not anymore.
You just wanted your last moment to be looking at the most handsome man you'd ever met. His soft eyes were filled with tears as he watched you.
You weren't upset, not scared, not nervous. Not anymore.
It would all be over soon.
You gave him one last salute before a loud bang rang out.
A/N- Not going to lie ya'll, I ate that up. But I still love hearing y'all's constructive criticism! Please LMK if you want to be added to my tag list, TYSM for reading!
Dae-Ho Taglist- @fuzzyscissorsmakerpie-blog @thethreeeyed-raven
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hiddenavenues · 6 months ago
Note
hii !
i saw ur post about fluffy Logan oneshots so i have one :D if this is not what ur looking for, pls feel free to ignore !!
maybe touch starved reader who constantly clings to Logan and he asks about it and reader gets nervous that they pushed a boundary and stop only for Logan to be like “wtf no i love when u cling to me, pls keep doing it”
no pressure at all, have a nice evening / morning !!
A Soft Place to Land
a/n: Hi Anon! Thank you for your request. I am so sorry this has taken so long, life went kind of crazy for a second, but it's sorting itself out now! I hope you enjoy the drabble <3
Logan Howlett x TouchStarved!GN!Reader
CW: some mentions of jealousy, reader seems pretty anxious, just some good ole' fluff
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Watching how Scott and Jean held each other, or even how the kids would comfort one another, you could feel jealousy curling around your mind at the absentminded tenderness in every touch. You’d spend countless nights awake, craving the touch of another while you wrapped your arms around yourself, fingers pressing into your skin just to feel something.
It gnawed at you, quiet and constant, slipping into the quiet spaces of your mind when you were alone. You’d close your eyes and imagine what it might feel like to rest your head on someone’s shoulder, to let the warmth of another’s touch seep into your skin and quiet the restlessness within you. It was always fleeting, a memory of something you've only had in fleeting moments.
Then there was Logan. The brooding, gruff exterior everyone seemed to shy away from became your refuge. It started as fleeting touches, knuckles grazing against his when you walked, shoulders bumping when you sat together. Before you knew it, you found yourself constantly lingering in his presence, your touch becoming more purposeful. Tracing shapes into the palm of his hand during long meetings or leaning on his shoulder after a mission, his head resting on top of yours. It was rare for you to be seen far apart, the school knew you were bound to be nearby if Logan was around.
You’re not sure when it started, the constant burn beneath your skin only satisfied by his touch. You started finding ways to get him to touch you, asking for help with your hair or applying bandaids. Now, you stood before Logan with a bracelet in hand, feigning an excuse of needing help to put it on. You didn’t miss the way Logan notched a brow at your request, eyeing the bracelet he knows you’ve put on yourself countless times. You fiddled with the jewelry in your palm, gaze nervously darting around his face as a familiar pit forms in your stomach at his hesitation. A heartbeat later, Logan opens the door wide for you to enter, knuckles grazing as you pass him. 
Logan’s fingers daftly inspect the jewelry before draping it over your wrist, each graze of his fingers deepening the blush on your cheeks. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and from the smirk on Logan’s face, you had a feeling he could hear how it quickened. 
“Why you always around me, bub?” Logan asks nonchalantly as he clasps the bracelet, fingers still ghosting over your arm. 
You swallow, feeling the words catch in your throat as you search for a response. You hadn’t considered Logan noticing, much less him asking you outright. The question hangs in the air as his eyes search your face, something curious and unguarded in them. You struggle to find a response that doesn’t make you sound desperate and scare him off.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,” You murmur, taking your arm away from his touch, clutching it to your chest as if to slow your racing heart. You look away, face burning beneath the weight of his gaze. “I’ll stop. Must be kinda creepy, constantly hovering around you.” You force a weak laugh.
A beat passes, the crushing silence presses against your chest, wrapping around you until each breath feels like a struggle. When you gather the courage to meet his eyes again, his expression has softened, the usual guarded look slipping. He shifts closer, bringing his face level with yours, and the intensity in his gaze holds you captive. 
“Don’t do that,” Logan’s breath fans your face with each word, mouth inches from yours. “Ain’t nobody said I didn’t like it.” His words are rough, each one lifting a weight from your chest. His eyes dart away to study the floor as his cheeks flush a deep crimson. “Ain’t used to people hanging around this much but… I don’t mind so much with you.” 
A pause before he shrugs as if trying to shake off the weight of his words. “Guess you don’t bother me as much as most folks do.” Logan straightens but doesn’t step back. His face remained aloof, but his cheeks were still rosy as vulnerability oozed from his gaze. “So quit worrying about ‘creeping me out.’ You’re good.” 
Logan’s kind words curled around your heart, a smile gracing your lips as you look at him. “So what I’m hearing is you're saying I can bug you even more now?” You joke, nudging his shoulder. 
He scoffs, dramatically rolling his eyes. “I wouldn’t push it, bub.”
---
Likes and reblogs are appreciated :)
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bu3ck3r · 23 days ago
Text
stay right here
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
wc: 5k
summary: paige gets sick first but when azzi catches it too she refuses to admit she needs help. luckily, paige is more than happy to take care of azzi, no matter how stubborn she is about it.
a/n: thank you anon for this idea i hope you’ll like it and to everyone else that reads this tell me how was it and if there’s any mistakes lmk
paige knew she was getting sick the night before — the headache creeping in behind her eyes, the scratchiness in her throat, the way her body suddenly felt heavier than usual. but she didn’t say anything. she just pulled azzi in a little closer on the couch while they watched some random show they weren’t really paying attention to.
azzi noticed her shifting around more than usual. “you good?”
“mhm.” paige rested her head on azzi’s shoulder, her voice low and quiet. “just wanna stay right here.”
azzi didn’t question it. she just adjusted a little, letting paige settle in.
the next morning though — paige looked like hell.
she was still bundled in the hoodie she’d worn to bed, but her nose was red, her voice was hoarse, and her eyes were that glassy kind of tired that made it obvious she hadn’t slept well. she shuffled into the kitchen while azzi was pouring cereal and leaned against the counter like the act of standing up was too much effort.
“morning,” she croaked, barely audible.
azzi turned, took one look at her, and set the spoon down. “oh, no.”
“what?”
“you look like you lost a fight with the air.”
paige gave a half-smile, too lazy to argue. “guess i’m fragile now.”
azzi sighed and crossed her arms. “why didn’t you say anything last night?”
paige shrugged. “didn’t wanna make a big deal.”
“well, it is a big deal if you’re walking around breathing on everything like a germ fog machine.”
“i didn’t even sneeze on you,” paige mumbled, stepping closer. she leaned into azzi, resting her forehead against her shoulder with a long exhale. “i feel like my bones are weak.”
azzi rolled her eyes but reached up to rest a hand on the back of paige’s neck. “you’re being dramatic.”
“i’m sick,” paige said quietly, nuzzling into her hoodie. “i get to be dramatic.”
azzi tried not to react to how warm she felt. “you probably have a fever.”
“i probably deserve one. karma for never taking my vitamins.”
“you literally took one yesterday.”
“yeah, but it was gummy. it doesn’t count.”
azzi sighed again — she was doing that a lot already this morning — and gently guided paige to the barstool. “sit. you’re not doing anything today.”
“not even you?”
azzi smacked her lightly on the arm. “stop talking.”
paige grinned, even as she let her head drop to the counter. “you’re cute when you’re bossy.”
“you’re clingy when you’re sick.”
“that’s not the sickness. that’s just me.”
the day passed in slow motion. paige rotated between the bed, the couch, and wherever azzi happened to be standing. she’d follow her around in slow steps like a shadow with a hoodie and a tissue box, always reaching out for a little touch — a hand on azzi’s back, fingers curled into her sleeve, head resting on her shoulder when she sat down.
azzi kept making noise about how annoying it was, but she didn’t push her away once.
she brought her tea, stood in line at the drugstore to get her cold meds, and even made soup — the canned kind, but still, effort was effort. paige, sick and quiet, just blinked at her with big, tired eyes and said, “you’re an angel.”
azzi rolled her eyes. “i’m your unpaid nurse.”
“same thing,” paige murmured, already reaching out for her again.
by late afternoon, paige was full-on cling mode.
she’d taken over the entire couch, curled under two blankets, legs stretched out across azzi’s lap like a cat who refused to be moved. she was clearly exhausted, and it showed in the way her voice had dropped an octave and her eyes kept drifting closed mid-sentence.
azzi was scrolling through her phone when paige shifted, half-asleep, and muttered, “you smell good.”
azzi didn’t look up. “that’s weird. shut up.”
“you do,” paige whispered. “you smell like my hoodie. or maybe i smell like your hoodie. i forget which one i’m wearing.”
azzi looked down. “that’s mine.”
“see?” paige smiled softly. “you love me.”
“regrettably,” azzi said.
but her hand was still stroking paige’s calf gently under the blanket.
around 7:00 p.m., paige tried to get up and nearly fell over.
azzi was immediately there, steadying her by the waist. “hey. what are you doing?”
“i was gonna go—” paige didn’t even finish the sentence. she just leaned into her, head resting on azzi’s collarbone. “forgot. i’m tired.”
azzi held her for a second, arms slipping around her waist. “jesus. you’re burning up.”
“i run hot. it’s my aura.”
“you sound like your dying.”
paige didn’t respond. just stood there, swaying slightly, face pressed into azzi’s shoulder.
azzi sighed. “come on. bed. i’ll bring your stuff.”
paige didn’t let go. “come with me?”
azzi hesitated, then hooked a finger under her chin and tipped her face up. “you’re sick. you don’t need me cuddling up in your fever dream.”
“but i sleep better with you.”
azzi groaned. “you’re lucky i like you.”
“i know you like me.”
later, paige was bundled into bed, eyes half-closed as azzi tucked the blanket up around her chest. she looked so soft like this — flushed and tired, but still smiling, like the only thing she really cared about was that azzi was within arm’s reach.
azzi sat down on the edge of the bed, pressing the back of her hand to paige’s forehead.
“still warm,” she said quietly.
paige looked up at her. “i feel gross.”
“you kinda look gross too.”
“thanks,” paige murmured, smiling. “you’re really uplifting.”
azzi reached out and brushed a piece of hair off her face. “get some sleep.”
“stay for a little?”
azzi sighed, but she kicked her shoes off anyway and crawled in beside her.
as soon as she was under the covers, paige wrapped her arms around her and let out a tiny, content sigh like she’d been waiting for that all day.
“you’re such a baby when you’re sick,” azzi said, even as she tucked paige’s head under her chin.
“only with you.”
azzi was quiet. “yeah, well. i guess i’m okay with that.”
around 2 a.m., azzi woke up with a sore throat.
she blinked a few times, confused by how dry her mouth was and how heavy her body suddenly felt. paige was still curled into her, breathing softly, radiating heat like a space heater on high.
azzi stared at the ceiling.
“you’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispered.
but she didn’t move.
not yet.
azzi woke up to a raw throat and the realization that paige was half-on top of her. not in a cute, playful way. in a clingy, full-body sprawl kind of way. paige’s leg was draped over her hip, arm curled around her stomach, face nuzzled into the side of her neck. she was snoring. lightly. which was weirdly adorable and also kind of alarming.
azzi laid there, eyes barely open, debating her life choices.
her head was heavy. her skin felt too tight. and her entire body ached in that slow, creeping way that could only mean one thing.
she groaned under her breath.
paige stirred. “what’s wrong?”
“you infected me.”
paige gave a soft, raspy laugh and didn’t move. “i told you to stay away. but nooo, you had to cuddle me through the fever.”
azzi rubbed a hand down her face. “because you guilt-tripped me. you were looking at me like a dying puppy.”
“worked though, didn’t it?”
azzi coughed. “you’re literally the worst.”
“you’re warm,” paige murmured, eyes still closed. “i love it.”
“you love being the reason i feel like i got hit by a bus?”
“not that part,” paige said. “but i love you. and you’re in my bed. and you smell like my hoodie again.”
azzi groaned. “why are you so clingy when you’re sick?”
“i’m clingy all the time. you just ignore it when i’m healthy.”
azzi shifted under the blankets. her nose was starting to run. she hated that she was sick, hated that she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t. but paige had already caught on.
“i’ll make you tea,” paige said suddenly, starting to sit up.
azzi pulled her back down immediately. “you can’t even stand without wobbling. sit down before you pass out in the kitchen.”
paige flopped back with a sigh. “let me do something. i feel bad.”
“you should.”
“you love me.”
“unfortunately.”
paige smiled to herself and reached over to press a soft kiss to azzi’s cheek. “i really do feel bad.”
azzi turned her head just slightly toward her. “yeah?”
“yeah.” paige paused. “but also… this is kinda the dream. sick day in bed with you. no practice. just netflix and cuddles.”
azzi snorted, then coughed again. “your so annoying.”
“and yet you still love me.”
azzi closed her eyes and groaned. “please shut up.”
“okay.” a beat. “you’re really hot, though. like, fever-hot. but also, like, generally.”
“i will smother you with this pillow.”
paige nuzzled into her shoulder. “you won’t. you like how warm i am.”
azzi didn’t respond. she was already drifting again, her body too heavy and warm to hold on to the irritation. paige stayed curled against her, completely still except for the way her fingers started tracing slow circles on azzi’s arm under the blanket.
the rest of the morning was a shared mess of tissues and short naps.
azzi tried to rally around noon. she pulled herself out of bed with a grunt, wobbling a little on the way to the bathroom. paige, half-asleep, peeked open one eye and said, “you okay?”
azzi stood in the doorway, hoodie hanging off one shoulder, hair a tangled mess. “do i look okay?”
paige grinned weakly. “you look like a beautiful wreck.”
azzi raised a middle finger as she turned toward the sink.
by the time she made it to the kitchen, the world was spinning slightly. she leaned against the counter and stared at the fridge, wondering if she had the energy to boil water.
she didn’t.
so she stood there instead, arms crossed, trying to will her body to cooperate.
behind her, soft footsteps shuffled in.
“you’re not supposed to be up,” paige mumbled, rubbing her eyes as she joined her.
“says the girl who was going to make me tea half an hour ago.”
“yeah, but i’m stronger than you.”
azzi gave her a look. “you literally had to sit down putting your socks on.”
“i was saving energy.”
azzi turned to face her. paige looked just as bad as earlier—maybe worse. hoodie pulled over her head, pale face flushed, nose red, eyes still watery.
“you look like shit,” azzi said softly.
“so do you,” paige replied with a smile, stepping closer. “want to suffer together?”
azzi leaned into her instinctively. she hated how good it felt. the warmth. the weight. the way paige smelled like laundry and lemon tea. paige wrapped her arms around her from behind and rested her chin on her shoulder.
“i was serious earlier,” she murmured.
“about what?”
“this being kinda nice. i mean, not the coughing and dying part. but this. us. nothing else to do.”
azzi let her head fall back a little. “you’re romanticizing a cold.”
“maybe.”
she was quiet for a second. “i just like having you close.”
azzi let herself lean all the way back into her, letting paige hold her up. “you already have me close. you literally climbed on top of me last night.”
“i was cold.”
“you were burning up.”
“i was emotionally cold.”
azzi groaned. “i don’t even have the energy to fight you.”
paige kissed the top of her head. “you’re so cute, baby”
azzi tilted her head, eyes closed. “alright enough talking p.”
they made it back to the couch somehow — a journey that took longer than usual because they kept leaning on each other for support. once they were there, paige collapsed sideways and immediately grabbed a blanket, patting the space beside her.
azzi hesitated.
paige patted again. “come here.”
“you’re gonna try to make me the little spoon.”
“i am gonna make you the little spoon.”
azzi stared.
then sighed.
and laid down beside her.
paige grinned triumphantly and wrapped her arms around her again. her skin was warm. she still smelled like mint toothpaste and dayquil.
“i hate how good this feels,” azzi mumbled into the pillow.
“don’t fight it.”
“i’m not fighting. i’m just being bitter.”
“okay. be bitter.” paige kissed the back of her neck. “but let me hold you while you are.”
the rest of the afternoon faded into a blur. tissues piled up. the tv played some random reality show in the background. neither of them really watched it. paige dozed in and out, and azzi did too, coughing more often now, her head pounding more by the hour.
at one point, paige felt her shift slightly and murmured, “you need water?”
azzi nodded without speaking.
paige sat up, legs trembling just a bit, but she didn’t say anything. she just shuffled to the kitchen and came back with the water bottle.
azzi looked up at her, blinking slowly. “you shouldn’t be walking.”
“i’m fine.”
“you’re not.”
“i’m taking care of you,” paige said, tucking the blanket back over her shoulders. “let me.”
azzi stared at her for a second, expression unreadable.
then she said, very softly, “thank you.”
paige blinked. “wait—did you just say something nice to me?”
“i take it back.”
paige grinned. “nope. heard it.”
azzi shoved her face into the pillow.
paige gently pulled her in and kissed the top of her head. “you’re welcome, babe.”
later that night, as the sky turned gray-blue and the world outside got quiet, they lay in bed again — both too tired to move, too sick to care. azzi was curled into paige this time, her fingers resting lightly on her chest.
paige was half-asleep, still smiling.
“i like this,” she whispered.
azzi didn’t respond at first.
then: “you’re lucky i caught your stupid cold.”
paige reached down and laced their fingers together.
“i know.”
──────────── ౨ৎ ────────────
paige woke up first. for the first time in three days, her head didn’t feel like it was full of cement. her throat still scratched a little, and her nose was stuffy, but the bone-deep exhaustion had started to lift. she blinked up at the ceiling for a moment before turning her head.
azzi was still dead asleep, breathing softly, the hoodie collar pulled up over her mouth. she looked like someone who’d fought off a lion and lost. her nose was red, and her hair was a tangled halo around her face, but her hand was still curled in paige’s shirt like she was afraid paige might float off without it.
she wouldn’t. obviously.
paige smiled to herself and reached up to brush a knuckle gently along azzi’s cheek. warm. still feverish. still deep in the worst of it.
“caught my sickness,” paige whispered. “and you called me dramatic.”
azzi didn’t move. paige leaned in, kissed her forehead, and whispered, “payback’s a bitch, huh?”
she was out of bed for maybe thirty seconds before azzi cracked one eye open and rasped, “where are you going?”
paige turned around in the doorway. “to get water.”
“you better not be doing something stupid like trying to cook.”
“that’s so rude. what if i was gonna make you breakfast?”
azzi let her head flop sideways on the pillow. “you can’t make cereal without getting winded.”
“i’m better today.”
“sure you are.”
paige walked back over, leaned down, and kissed her temple. “just lay there. i got you.”
azzi groaned. “you’re already annoying.”
paige grinned. “and you’re already obsessed with me.”
she didn’t make breakfast, for the record. paige was feeling marginally less like death, but she wasn’t delusional. she poured two glasses of water, grabbed the last pack of cold meds, and snuck one of azzi’s sweatshirts on before heading back to the bedroom.
azzi hadn’t moved. she was still buried under the blankets, looking miserable and slightly offended by her own body.
paige climbed back in beside her and offered her the water. azzi blinked at her.
“you’re hovering.”
“obviously,” paige said. “i feel better. so now i get to be the doting one.”
“you’ve been the doting one.”
“i know. but now i can stand upright while doing it.”
azzi took the water and sat up slowly. she looked like it hurt. paige tucked a pillow behind her back before she could even ask.
“thanks,” azzi said, almost too quiet to hear.
paige looked over at her. “what was that?”
“nothing.”
“you sure?”
“shut up.”
“yeah yeah i love you too, princess.”
azzi shot her a look.
paige just smiled and passed her the cold medicine.
the day went on like that: paige moving around the apartment like a ghost, following azzi from bed to couch and back again, constantly checking her temperature and fluffing pillows that didn’t need fluffing.
azzi complained about it.
a lot.
but she never actually told paige to stop.
around lunch time, paige came back from the kitchen with two bowls of microwaved soup. she handed one off and sat beside her, crossing her legs and watching azzi like she might stop breathing if she blinked too long.
azzi sipped quietly for a minute before finally saying, “you’re staring.”
“i’m just making sure you don’t collapse.”
“i’m sick, not 80.”
“you’re my sick person.”
azzi groaned. “do you hear yourself?”
“i do. and i sound adorable.”
“you sound insufferable.”
“you’re smiling, though.”
“i’m not.”
“you are.”
azzi looked over at her, eyes half-lidded and tired, but she didn’t argue. paige gently reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
“you’re really pretty when you’re all flushed and grumpy,” she said softly.
azzi looked at her for a second, blank expression still intact.
“please get out of my face.”
paige leaned closer. “you love me.”
azzi shoved her shoulder gently. “eat your soup.”
the afternoon was a blur of soft movies, half-naps, and comfort touches. azzi had stopped fighting it around 2 p.m., finally letting paige curl into her again without a single complaint. paige felt the shift — that moment where azzi stopped trying to act fine and just gave in to being taken care of.
it made her feel warm inside in a way the fever never could.
she kissed azzi’s shoulder as they lay under the blanket, whispering soft nonsense into her ear, rubbing lazy circles into her thigh.
azzi didn’t say much, but her fingers kept finding paige’s — linking with them loosely, letting them go, finding them again.
it was the sick version of holding hands on a mountaintop: no effort, no energy, just gravity pulling them together.
by the time the sky dimmed and the outside world blurred paige was fully committed to playing nurse.
she made tea again (barely burned her hand this time), grabbed more tissues, and even found that one lavender essential oil she bought once as a joke but now insisted was “good for your nose.”
azzi was wrapped in two blankets, watching her with the flat expression of someone too tired to argue but very aware she was being ridiculous.
“smell this,” paige said, holding the little bottle under her nose.
azzi blinked. “what is that?”
“lavender eucalyptus serenity blend.”
“that’s not a thing.”
“it’s totally a thing. smells like a fancy yoga retreat.”
azzi took a slow inhale and blinked again. “…okay, fine. that does smell nice.”
paige beamed. “ you’re welcome.”
“still annoying.”
“you say that, but you haven’t kicked me out yet.”
azzi pulled the blanket tighter. “because i don’t have the energy.”
paige flopped onto the couch beside her and rested her head on her shoulder. “i knew this sickness would pay off somehow.”
that night, they ended up back in bed, both of them drained in different ways.
azzi had gotten worse. paige had gotten slightly better. but the balance worked.
paige turned on the soft lamp by the bed, adjusted their pillows again, and climbed in behind her, pressing her body flush against azzi’s.
azzi didn’t protest.
“you okay?” paige asked softly, hand resting on her stomach.
azzi nodded. “tired.”
“i got you.”
azzi let out a tiny hum and reached for her hand under the blanket.
“sorry i got you sick,” paige murmured, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
azzi sighed. “you’re not actually sorry.”
“no, i really am.”
azzi turned her head slightly. “you’ve been happy all day. admit it.”
paige hesitated. “…maybe a little.”
azzi rolled her eyes. “you’re impossible.”
“i just like taking care of you,” paige said. “even when you’re grumpy and dramatic and pretending you don’t love it.”
azzi squeezed her hand gently.
“i do love it,” she whispered. “but don’t let it go to your head.”
paige smiled and kissed the back of her neck.
by the time the worst of it had passed, the apartment smelled like tea, menthol, and leftover soup, and paige had watched love and basketball at least three times “just for the vibes.”
──────────── ౨ৎ ────────────
azzi, now finally on the mend, was awake more than she was asleep. her voice had dropped an octave, her nose was only mildly red instead of nuclear.
hair in a messy bun, hoodie sleeves pushed up, eyes half-lidded — she stood in the bathroom doorway and looked like she wanted to shower, but the sheer thought of doing it made her more tired than the sickness already had.
paige popped her head in from the hallway, toothbrush still in her mouth.
“you good?”
azzi didn’t answer for a second. then: “i don’t have the energy to do this.”
paige rinsed her mouth, leaned in the doorway, and looked her up and down. “you want help?”
azzi hesitated. “no— i mean— yes. but i don’t need it.”
“i didn’t say you needed it,” paige said, stepping in and gently tugging at the drawstrings on azzi’s hoodie. “i just said i’d do it.”
azzi narrowed her eyes. “you’re way too comfortable saying that.”
paige gave her a lazy grin. “i am comfortable. with you.”
azzi sighed and leaned against the counter. “i feel like i weigh a thousand pounds.”
paige stepped forward and wrapped her arms gently around her waist. “then let me carry some of it.”
the shower was warm, quiet, and foggy — the kind of space where everything outside of it didn’t exist for a little while.
paige helped azzi undress slowly, like every motion meant something. her hands were gentle, like she was touching something breakable — not out of pity, but out of care.
azzi didn’t say much. she just stood there, heavy-limbed and sleepy-eyed, and let paige guide her under the spray.
she leaned against the wall, eyes closed, and paige stood behind her, running her hands through her hair with careful fingers.
“you’re lucky you’re cute when you’re pathetic,” paige murmured, lathering shampoo gently into azzi’s scalp.
azzi made a low sound. “you’re annoying.”
“you keep saying that.”
“because you keep being it.”
paige smiled. she rinsed the shampoo out, then slowly slid conditioner through the strands, untangling her hair like it was something sacred.
azzi leaned her head back onto her shoulder for a moment, completely still.
paige kissed the side of her head and whispered, “you’re okay. i got you.”
“i know,” azzi said, soft enough that the water nearly drowned it out.
after, paige helped her towel off, got her into one of her big, fluffy shirts and fresh sweats, and walked her to the couch.
azzi didn’t fight it. not this time.
paige, on the other hand, was technically fine.
technically.
because even though her fever was gone and her energy was back, she’d decided that recovery was “a fragile, emotional process,” and that meant she still got to be babied.
which azzi was picking up on.
big time.
azzi was sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling aimlessly on her phone, when paige shuffled in wrapped in a blanket like a burrito.
“you’re not cold,” azzi said without looking up.
“i might be,” paige replied, dropping into the chair across from her dramatically. “i still feel emotionally unwell.”
azzi glanced up, unimpressed. “we’re out of soup.”
paige gasped. “what? why didn’t you tell me?”
“because i was dying.”
“oh. right.”
azzi shook her head, eyes still fixed on her screen.
paige stood up slowly, blanket still draped around her, and walked around the table until she was standing behind azzi. she leaned down, resting her chin on azzi’s shoulder, arms wrapping loosely around her middle.
“i like it.”
azzi sighed. “you’re suffocating.”
“you’re warm.”
“i’m not a space heater.”
“you’re my space heater.”
azzi leaned back into her a little, despite herself. “why are you like this?”
paige kissed her cheek. “because you’re soft when you’re sick.”
“i’m literally not.”
“yeah, yeah.”
azzi shook her head. “you’re unbearable.”
paige grinned and rested her cheek on azzi’s. “but i’m cute.”
“barely.”
later, they were on the couch again — a much cleaner version of the chaos from a few days ago. blankets folded. tissues gone. windows cracked open, spring air slipping in.
azzi was finally sitting upright, flipping through netflix. paige lay with her head in her lap, fake-sighing every few minutes just to get azzi’s attention.
“you okay?” azzi asked, barely glancing down.
“no,” paige said flatly. “i think i’m regressing.”
azzi arched a brow. “regressing into what?”
“a needier version of myself.”
azzi looked down at her. “is that even possible?”
“i thought i was healed. but i think i need… more attention. just to be sure.”
azzi snorted. “that’s your actual diagnosis?”
“better safe than sorry.”
azzi rolled her eyes but started running her fingers through paige’s hair anyway. “you’re unbelievable.”
“say you love me.”
“i love you paige.”
“i love you too baby”
──────────── ౨ৎ ────────────
an hour passed. the sun shifted across the floor. they finally landed on a documentary, which neither of them paid attention to. paige was still in azzi’s lap. azzi had started playing with the drawstring of her hoodie, absentmindedly looping it around her fingers.
paige smiled lazily. “you’re touchy.”
azzi groaned. “please shut up.”
“you love it.”
“no, i love you. there’s a difference.”
paige sat up suddenly and kissed her cheek. “you’re so cute.”
the day passed slow and warm. paige hovered, azzi allowed it. they shared tea, watched some movies, and spent more time just being together than either of them could remember.
at some point, paige ended up sitting cross-legged on the couch, blanket in her lap, phone in hand. she was scrolling aimlessly when she felt the weight of azzi’s head settle softly onto her thigh.
she froze — not because it was unexpected, but because azzi rarely initiated things like that.
she looked down.
azzi’s eyes were already closed, lips parted slightly, breaths even.
paige softened immediately, brushing a few curls out of her face.
“look at you,” she whispered. “finally gave in.”
azzi didn’t respond, obviously. she was too far gone.
paige let her phone drop to the side and started tracing lazy circles over azzi’s shoulder, a grin tugging at her lips.
a little while later, when azzi stirred and blinked blearily up at her, paige was ready.
“well, well, well,” she said, smiling. “look who decided i’m comfortable.”
azzi squinted. “didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“but you did. in my lap.”
azzi groaned. “you’re gonna bring this up forever.”
“absolutely.”
“you’re the worst.”
“you’re the cutest.”
azzi rolled onto her back with a quiet sigh and closed her eyes again. “fine. i’m not moving.”
paige grinned and leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“good. you’re exactly where i want you.”
that night, for the first time in a week, azzi stayed up later than paige.
paige had conked out early, finally letting her body stop pretending it was still in danger. azzi, sitting on the bed in fresh sweats, looked over at her — tangled in the blanket, mouth slightly open, hair a mess.
she looked peaceful. for once.
azzi leaned back against the headboard and just watched her for a second.
it was weird. not the sickness. not the clinginess. but how easy it had been, despite all that.
she’d fought paige every step of the way, like she always did when she felt vulnerable. but paige — annoying, dramatic, unrelenting paige — had just stayed. quiet when she needed to be. soft when it mattered. present. every moment.
and somehow, that made her more insufferable.
but in a way azzi was never going to admit out loud. not more than once, anyway.
she slid under the blanket beside her, careful not to wake her, and curled in just close enough.
paige stirred.
eyes still closed, she mumbled, “you back?”
“yeah.”
“you still warm?”
azzi exhaled slowly. “a little.”
paige smiled in her sleep, nudging closer.
“good,” she whispered. “means i can hold you.”
azzi rolled her eyes, but she didn’t move. didn’t say anything else.
didn’t need to.
447 notes · View notes
formulaonecrumbs · 20 days ago
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could you write a Lando x reader where the reader comes from a low-income family and her childhood and teenage years were deeply affected by that? Her life started to improve a little when she began creating content on tiktok and instagram, but it still wasn't anything too surprising or luxurious. Lando came across her profile by accident, got interested in her, and they started talking. After a few weeks of chatting, they planned to meet in person, and Lando picked her up for their date. they went to an extremely fancy restaurant, completely out of the reader’s reality, which made her feel a bit uncomfortable especially because Lando acted like it was just a regular place, even unintentionally being a little rude to the waiter. she felt embarrassed to order food and ended up choosing the cheapest options (which were still very expensive). as the dinner went on, she started realizing that Lando was kind of snobbish, and pretty much everything he talked about involved a lot of money. that made her feel uneasy, especially because of the huge difference between the realities they grew up in
not used to this 🥂
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Lando Norris x middle-class!reader
summary: lando takes reader to a restaurant way out of her comfort zone
warnings: rich boy trying his best, writer (me) not doing as the request says 🤗
A/N: thank u anon!!! i wrote this when u sent the request in and reading it back, i’m realising now that i didn’t really make him snobbish 😭 MY BAD. i can rewrite it if u want, all u gotta do is ask. i hope u enjoy it regardless. again it is unedited. love uuuuuu 💋
୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ
she didn’t grow up with much. not in the sad, movie-montage way—just in the real way. money was tight. bills came in stacks. school trips were “maybe next time,” and birthdays were handmade cards and discount cake. she never blamed her parents. they gave her everything they could. love, mostly. and that mattered. but still, it made her grow up early. taught her not to ask for too much.
by the time she turned nineteen, things had started shifting. not drastically. but enough. she’d built something on tiktok—honest, messy, creative little videos that made people laugh or feel less alone. her following wasn’t massive, but it helped. brand deals, a bit of income, enough to finally buy her own clothes, to take her mum out for lunch every now and then. it was progress. not luxury. but she was proud of it.
and then lando norris followed her.
she thought it was a joke at first. but no—it was him. real, verified, f1 superstar lando norris. and he didn’t just follow—he messaged. funny stuff, casual. asking questions. responding to her stories. talking like she was just another person, not some online profile.
weeks passed. they started calling each other. laughing for hours, sending stupid memes, talking about childhood, music, food. he made her feel like she wasn’t just from a different world.
until they met in person.
he picked her up in a sleek car that probably cost more than her entire life. he didn’t flaunt it—he just drove it, casual, like he didn’t even think twice. he wore simple clothes, but she could tell they were expensive. he grinned when he saw her, told her she looked amazing, even held the car door open.
the restaurant was… a whole other planet. chandeliers. glass walls. the kind of place where you feel like whispering. lando smiled like it was nothing. like this was just dinner.
“hope this place’s alright,” he said, pulling out her chair.
“yeah,” she said, heart pounding. “it’s beautiful.”
she meant it, but also… it wasn’t her. not even close.
the menu was in french. she didn’t even recognize half the dishes. she scanned the prices, eyes wide.
“order whatever you want,” lando said. “seriously. they do this wagyu something something that’s unreal.”
she gave a small laugh. “i think i’ll just get the soup.”
he tilted his head. “just soup? you sure?”
she nodded. “yeah, i’m not super hungry.”
he looked at her for a second too long. not questioning her, just… noticing. something in her voice maybe. or the way she kept folding her napkin over and over.
as the waiter came by, he asked, “still or sparkling?”
“sparkling,” lando said easily, then caught her eye. “wait—do you want still?”
she blinked. “yeah, i usually do.”
he gave the waiter a sheepish smile. “sorry—still water, please.”
a small thing. but she noticed. he noticed.
as the meal went on, he talked about racing, about travel, about how weird fame can feel. sometimes money slipped into the conversation—a fancy hotel, a car he tested—but not like he was bragging. just like it was his version of normal.
but even still, she felt it. the space between them. how far apart their worlds had been.
and somehow… he started to feel it too.
he leaned forward after a moment of quiet. “this place might’ve been a bit much, huh?”
she smiled softly. “a little.”
he scratched the back of his neck. “i just wanted tonight to be nice. special. didn��t really think about how… intense it might feel.”
“it’s not bad,” she said quickly. “just… different.”
lando nodded. “you can tell me if you’re uncomfortable. i don’t want you to feel weird around me.”
she looked at him, really looked, and saw the sincerity in his face. not pity. not guilt. just a boy who cared. who was trying.
“i don’t feel weird around you,” she said. “just… here.”
he smiled. “then next time, we’ll go somewhere with chips and ketchup packets.”
she laughed, and the tension in her shoulders finally softened. “perfect.”
“good,” he said, reaching across the table to gently squeeze her hand. “because i really like you. and i want to get this right.”
she squeezed back. “you already are.”
THE END :>
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norrisainz33 · 2 months ago
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dream job || ls18
summary: you are starting the 2025 season in your dream role, as a f1 journalist and end up meeting a certain aston martin driver who sweeps you off your feet
pairing: lance stroll x journalist!nonfamous!reader
fc & warnings: none & some hate comments
requested: yes! thank you for your patience anon!!
masterlist
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
ynuser has made a post
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ynuser: grwm for the first day of my dream job! so excited to cover f175 with skysportsf1 today 🤍
p.s thanks to friend3 for letting me borrow my outfit and yourbff for the hair and makeup
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yourbff: thats my best friend!!!! here before you become the most popular journalist in the game
ynuser: an og fan! thank you sm bestie
friend3: outfit looks so good omg 😭
ynuser: thank you 😭😭 i appreciate you so much
friend3: couldn’t let my bestie go out there and not serve tf
friend1: soooo coool!!!!!! [liked by ynuser]
skysportsf1: can't wait to see you there!
ynuser: looking forward to it admin 🫶🏻
friend2: i will be watching the red carpet to try and get a glimpse of you bb
ynuser: if you see me please take a picture 😫
yoursibling: don't blow up and pretend you don't know us no more pls
ynuser: how could i ever?!
ynuser has posted to their story
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yourbff: im trying so hard not to fangirl but is that OLLIE AND ESTIE?! AND LANCE
ynuser: yes!! it is!!!!!! not fangirling was incredibly hard. you'll also NEVER guess what happened
yourbff: screaming already - what happened?!
ynuser: after we stopped recording lance told me that he really liked the questions i asked and that he hopes to see me with the media at the races
yourbff: SHUT UP! GIRL
ynuser: and then ofc i forgot how to be normal and told him that he hasnt seen the last of me and then he said and i quote 'i hope thats true.' and then left
yourbff: if i didnt know any better id say he was flirting?
ynuser: literally no way he was just being nice
yourbff: its ok bestie ill be delulu enough for the both of us
friend3: ollie bearman the man that you areeeeeee
ynuser: he was so goofy silly im such a fan
user1: fire content this is going to do numbers on f1twt
friend1: OMGOGMOGMMfgajfgg
ynuser: same
friend2: I SAW YOUR INTERVIEW WITH LANCE!!!!!! AND LANDO??!!?@?@?@?@??@? A N D THE LEWIS HAMILTON????
ynuser: ahhhh you saw them?!?!
friend2: yes!!! you're all over socials for making lance and lando giggle
ynuser: that would explain all the new followers hahaha but seriously all of the drivers were so kind im so excited for the rest of the season. bahrain can't come soon enough
yourcoworker: never gonna get used to this
ynuser: me neither. definitely going to take time to sink in
user3: loved your interview questions! truly such unique ones and you can tell the drivers really appreciated it!
user33: how the heck did u get this job
lance_stroll has posted to his private story
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estebanocon: why do you need this information mon ami?
lance_stroll: science! research!
estebanocon: mate
chloestroll: ..... care to share w the class what this means?
lance_stroll: nope :)
chloestroll: you know that’s not gonna fly
lance_stroll: 😔
chloestroll: TELL ME!!!!!!
lance_stroll: fine!!!!!
lance_stroll: skysports got a new interviewer and she asked really good questions and was really pretty and we chatted a little and i can’t stop thinking about her ok. let a man live
chloestroll: 👀 trying to be nonchalant about this
lance_stroll: see this is why i didn’t want to tell you
pierregasly: kika says it was y/n y/l/n! that is if you mean the girl that asked the funny but really good questions
lance_stroll: yes thats her! thanks pierre or should is say thanks kika xxoo
pierregasly: she says you’re welcome but that you’re gonna have to spill the beans abt what is going on here next time we hang out
lance_stroll: deal
flavybarla: 🤨
lance_stroll: 🤭
fernandoalo_oficial: ask the social media team they'll know
lance_stroll: i'm scared to bc you know they'd make me do like 2 tikoks in return for the info
fernandoalo_oficial: fair
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yourbff: obsessed with the duality of the groutfit from target and the insanely fancy drinks you're drinking in this last slide
ynuser: i felt a bit out of place in the restaurant in my little tj maxx dress but he was so insanely sweet it didn’t matter
yourbff: i’m sure you looked stunning bestie. PLEASE spill the beans about your DATE
ynuser: if you had told me it was a dream i would have believed you! like we’ve been texting for a couple weeks but idk i was worried about how it would be in person but talking to him was so easy it felt like we had know each other for forever
yourbff: 🥹🥹🥹 obsessed. are you going to see him again?
ynuser: he did ask me if we could go out again 😭
yourbff: YESSSSSSSSSSSSS I STAN THIS SO HARD
user33: man didnt know being a journalist meant you could afford 5 star restaurants... must be nice
lance_stroll: thanks for taking a chance on me and coming out tonight
ynuser: thank you for inviting me out! i had a really lovely time getting to know you better
lance_stroll: likewise! i’d really like to keep getting to know you 😅
ynuser: it’s a good thing i feel the same way
friend3: was this the dinner and drinks with you know WHO?!
ynuser: yes and it was incredible 😭
yourcoworker: longest day of my entire life. running from the airport directly to the track is not for the weak
ynuser: no for real. our sleep schedules are going to be crazy but it’s going to be so worth it
user1: looking forward to seeing your interviews!
friend2: what is your life these days... a jet setting super star u have become
ynuser: pleaseeeee i am still just little old me
lance_stroll posted to his story
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user28: you’re really spoiling whoever this is
user18: SOFT LWUXNHEVFOW NG IRNG
user18: sorry let me calm down
chloestroll: looooook it’s my favorite girly
lance_stroll: already trying to steal her from me huh
chloestroll: yes! she’s the sweetest little thing ever 🥹🤍
user19: the miami gp better be good to you this weekend i swear
ynuser: i love loving you
lance_stroll: these past few months have been the best of my life
ynuser: same 😭🤍
user33: did you…… get this girl a birkin?????? gotta be a gold digger im
estebanocon: i’m really happy for you mate
lance_stroll: i appreciate you so much mate. thanks to you and flavy for making her feel so welcome last weekend 🤍
estebanocon: you both are always welcome to visit us when we have time off ❤️
yourbff: who is that cutie
lance_stroll: my girlfriend 😉
yourbff: she was mine first 😔
user21: how will i ever survive knowing you’re off the market
user29: i’m taking bets that this is that journalist from skysports
ynuser has made a post
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liked by astonmartinf1, yourbff, user1, skysportsf1, your coworker, lance_stroll, chloestroll and 11,345 others
ynuser: imola - you were a dream. make sure to catch my interviews from the weekend over on skysportsf1!
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user1: you’ve really bewitched me this season i think you’re my new favorite media person [liked by ynuser]
lance_stroll: 😍 [liked by ynuser]
ynuser: ❤️‍🔥
user18: i’d know that lance stroll hair in slide 3 anywhere
yourbff: LOVEEEEE this pretty girl
ynuser: bestieeeeeeee thank you 😘
user33: the glow up you’ve had is interesting….. wonder where all these nice things have come from….. seems like a certain billionaire..
flavy.barla: obsessed actually
ynuser: and i’m obsessed with you 🥹
skysportsf1: catch y/n recaping the weekend over on our page! [liked by ynuser]
user12: need outfit details stat
friend3: there are so many people here not sure how to act normal
ynuser: just be you bbgirl
f1gossip has made a post
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liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7, user8, user33 and 18,375 others
f1gossip: flavy, alex and y/n have all arrived at the monaco grand prix! y/n y/l/n, sky sports correspondent, is rumored to be the girlfriend of lance stroll and has been spending a lot more time in the paddock and with flavy and alex when she’s not reporting.
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user1: god they’re so beautiful
user2: the ultimate trio
user3: i wish i could be part of their friend group
user33: i s2g this girl is just using lance for his $$$
user1: get a life and leave her be
user99: i have noticed that he’s very clearly giving her stuff. like if you look at her posts before they were together she was not dressing like the rest of the wags and now suddenly she is?
user28: this is the happiest i’ve seen lance in like literal years stfu and stop being mean to her
user33: she just wants the influence.. have you seen how much more traction her interviews get now?
user19: being mean isn’t gonna make lance like you user33 like be so for real rn
user18: omg y/n made the wag page this is huge
user20: pleasseeee someone tell me where alex’s dress is from
user11: they’re all literally glowing wow
lance_stroll has made a post
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lance_stroll: with love from summer break ft my favorite person in the whole world 🤍
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fernandoalo_oficial: looks incredible! hope you two had the best time 💚
lance_stroll: we did! looking forward to seeing you soon mi amigo
user18: looks like the vacation of a life time
ynuser: i love you my handsome man
lance_stroll: i love you gorgeous girl
yourbff: cutie patooties i love you both so much
lance_stroll: we love you so much
ynuser: 🤍🤍
chloestroll: thanks for letting me crash your vacay for a few days
ynuser: seeing you was one of my favorite parts 🤍
lance_stroll: it’s always wonderful spending time with you and scottyjames31
user11: honestly this is my royal family. you two are goals idc what anyone else has to say
user23: i can’t wait to see you back on track
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thanks for reading!!! likes and reblogs appreciated🤍
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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gogogodzilla · 10 months ago
Note
Helloo, i love how u write and this is my first time requesting so i hope u don't mind.
What abt reader giving harry head after a stressful day at quidditch? I imagine it like he whimpers and sorts.
Thank you!! <33
All to You || Harry Potter
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harry james potter x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, facefucking, oral sex, gagging, both harry & reader are of age, slight dirty talk note: thank you for the request anon, and thank you everyone for 2k followers!!!!! <3 ✩ masterlist ✩
The roar of the crowd rivals the crack of thunder and the wind that howls throughout the quidditch stadium. Rain trickles down your forehead and you crane your head to catch a glance of your favorite scarlet uniform flying in slow, calculated circles high above the rest of the players. 
Tension crackles through the air as the match progresses, with each team trying desperately to get ahead. The bludgers seemed even more aggressive than usual, which, combined with the pounding rain and lower visibility, leads to some close calls that had your heart skipping a beat. 
There’s a shift in the air as Harry goes into a steep dive. The crowd erupts into cheers and gasps, and time seems to slow as he rapidly nears the ground. Milliseconds pass, and he reaches out a hand, ready to close around the golden snitch. You hardly have enough time to utter the first syllables of a warning before a bludger comes sailing through the air and into his side. You can’t tear your gaze away as he spins out of control, struggling to regain his balance. 
He reaches the ground hard, and you cringe as he rolls across the pitch. The Slytherin seeker seizes the opportunity and catches the snitch in their grasp. The other side of the stadium is a cacophony of cheers as silver and green banners sail through the air. A wave of dejection rolls across the Gryffindor section, and you sink into your seat. 
Slowly, the stadium clears as the Slytherin teams and their supporters celebrate their win. Mud squelches under your boots as you make your way across the pitch. Harry stands slightly away from the rest of his team, his broom clutched tightly in his hand. 
You call his name softly as you approach. He doesn’t look up as you take his hand in yours. 
“Sorry you had to see that,” he says after a moment. 
Your gaze softens as you look at him and lightly squeeze his hand. “Let’s get out of the rain,” you murmur, gently tugging him toward the locker rooms. 
As you enter, you wave your wand, drying your clothes as you walk toward his locker. It does little to ease the chill that seeps into your bones, and a shiver runs down your spine. Harry quickly pulls his uniform top over his head and digs around his locker for his clothes. The sight causes a different kind of shiver to course through you. 
You lean against the locker beside his, pressing your back against the cool metal. “Are you doing okay? That was some hit you took,” you question as your gaze drags down his abdomen. 
He glances in your direction, and a grin spreads across his features as he notices what’s drawn your attention. He raises a brow as your eyes meet his, and you purse your lips.
“Wanna make it feel better?” he teases as he pulls a sweater over his head. 
You step forward and wrap your hands around his waist, spinning him to face you. Your hands dip under his sweater and splay across his torso. He tenses under your touch, hissing softly as your fingers graze against his injured side. 
You look up at him through your eyelashes, and his breath shudders for a moment before he nods. Slowly, you use one hand to push up his sweater, taking in the blooming bruise against his ribcage. 
You sink to your knees and drag your lips across the exposed skin on his stomach. Your free hand wanders across his thigh as you trail kisses down his abdomen. You trace your tongue just above his hips, pressing sloppy kisses against the skin just above his waistband. 
You rest your cheek against his hip as your hands wander across the growing tent in his pants. Harry’s breath quickens as you pop the button on his pants and slowly, agonizingly tug his zipper down. 
You dip a hand into the waistband of his briefs and release his cock from its confines. You wrap your hand around his cock, giving it a few tentative strokes. You’re practically drooling at the sight, and Harry whimpers as you twist your wrist with each pass over his length. 
You look up at him as you bring your lips to his cock, pressing featherlight kisses along his shaft. You take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the leaking head of his cock. Harry bites his lip, stifling a groan as he leans his head back. 
He reaches down and gently tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, guiding you as you begin bobbing your head. You steadily take more and more of him while your hand strokes what you can’t reach with your tongue. 
Harry moans and whimpers out honey sweet praises as you have him at your mercy. You rest your palms against the back of his thighs, beckoning him closer. He’s quick to indulge you as he matches the bobs of your head with a quick thrust of his hips. The head of his cock reaches the back of your throat and you gag around him. Harry pulls back just long enough for you to catch your breath before he’s urging his cock down your throat once more. 
It brings tears to your eyes, and Harry cups your face, wiping your cheek as he does. 
“Doing so good for me, love,” he praises, his voice breathy and strained. “So — fuck, so fucking good.” 
With a few quick thrusts of his hips, he’s cumming with a strangled groan. He releases his hold on you as his orgasm washes over him, and you bob your head around him, milking him for every last drop. 
Whimpers escape Harry as the feeling of your lips around him becomes too much for him to bear, and he gently tugs you off of him. He tucks a stray hair behind your ear before pulling you up and capturing your lips in a kiss. 
You pull away, “Feel better?” 
“Much better,” he replies, grinning. 
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pullupinarari · 7 months ago
Text
At the right time [LH]
author's note: this is the beginning of the dad!Lewis AU that I've been thinking about writing for so long ���� thank you so much to the anon that requested this! I changed some bits, hope you don't mind! Enjoy it, mwah
• masterlist
wc: 4090 - english is not my first language! feedback is always appreciated
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“Shitty day at work, want to go have dinner out? I need to unwind a bit” - your phone screen lights up with a text from your husband, making you gasp as your attention is focused on a completely different thing.
The test in your hands is making your heart pound, your body is shaking while tears are slowly sliding through your cheeks. Two lines. Two, bright red lines that had just changed your entire future in a matter of minutes. A smile shows up on your face - the kind that you can’t control. You and Lewis have been talking about having babies for some time now, and you know that becoming a dad is Lewis’ biggest dream. You know it’s a spot in his life that he has yet to fulfill, having conquered everything in his career - and your family still has that chapter missing in the book.
And now, everything makes sense. The way your stomach has been acting weird, especially in the mornings, how you have been craving more food than you usually do. It’s like the puzzle fits now, the answer for your weird behaviors being right in front of you.
Lewis makes you feel safe, loved, protected - he’s responsible for making you believe in love again, after feeling discouraged for so long, before meeting him. He’s dedicated, gentle, loving, understanding. He could give you the entire world, but he chose to give you his heart, in its entirety - and that’s even bigger than the world. Whenever he looks at you, you feel seen, truly seen. He sees you for what you truly are, he sees your constellations, the ones that live inside of you. He sees your happiness, your fears, your anxieties, and he manages to reach them all with his warmth, his touch, the sparkle in his eyes talking to your emotions.
You know Lewis will be the best father that this baby could ever dream of. And that’s what makes this moment feel so right and so special: you finally found the right person, the one that will be there for your baby no matter what, the one who is going to act like a real father.
Your smile grows wider at the thought of breaking the news to your husband, so you quickly text him, agreeing on having dinner out - thinking of it as the perfect excuse to go out and celebrate once you tell him the news.
Looking at yourself in the mirror while you’re getting ready, you notice a different sparkle in your eyes already. You choose a simple, nice dress that you know that Lewis loves to see you in, but your mind can’t stop imagining how your belly will grow in the next couple of months.
Lewis appears behind you, startling you - he almost caught you with your hand on your stomach, but you managed to cover your movement, making it seem like you were just adjusting your dress.
“You look gorgeous, darling” - his voice feels warm against your neck, where he lands a kiss while he hugs you from behind, framing your body effortlessly.
You absently drown in his touch, gluing your bodies together even more. You turn your face to him, capturing his lips in a loving kiss. “Hard day at work, huh?” - you question, noticing the frown on his face - he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Everything just got better now that I have you in my arms. It’s a power that you have” - he gives you a gentle smile, realizing how badly he was in need to feel your touch as well. Your hand caresses his beard and cheek, and you notice how he melts on your skin, his eyes closing for a second while he breathes heavily, trying to let go of the tension surrounding his body.
“We can stay home and order something, if you’d like. You seem tired, love” - you point out, your soft words contrasting with the heavy cloud hovering on his head.
He just shakes his head slightly, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. “No, baby. Let’s go and have some fun” - he tries his best to assure you that he is fine, trying to get his mind off all the problems happening at work, for a couple of hours.
And so you do, you decide to go to your favorite Italian restaurant. You look at the menu, and you already know what your favorite dishes are. Lewis can already guess what you’re going to order - spaghetti al nero, your ultimate favorite from this place, the dish that you never grow tired of.
“I am going to have this dish… a risotto with mushrooms? Please” - you ask the waiter, and Lewis can’t help but look up, with furrowed eyebrows and a confused look on his face.
“I’ll have the penne arrabiatta, please” - he orders, thanking the waiter as he distances himself from your table. “Baby, are you okay? Why did you order that? You hate mushrooms” - Lewis asks you, the question mark in his face looking evident now.
Your face turns into a compromised look, your brain realizing that you, indeed, hate mushrooms, but you can’t help the cravings pooling in your stomach. Your mouth is salivating at the thought of having the dish in front of you, making you feel like you can’t wait much longer to eat.
“I want to try it! I am giving other foods a chance, see if I can improve my taste buds” - you say, noticing how Lewis looks at you with a raised brow now, not understanding a word of what you’re saying, but he still lets you have it your way.
Your food finally arrives, and you can’t help but inspect your dish. It’s like the mushrooms stand out in the middle of the risotto, shadowing the rest of the food on the plate. Meanwhile, you take a look at your husband’s plate - looking way more delicious than yours.
“Humm, looks so tasty” - Lewis says ironically while he studies your reaction, how your face is closed in a slightly disgusted expression, how your body froze once your eyes landed on the dish in front of you. He giggles to himself, already knowing that you won’t be able to eat all your food.
You give him a look, tasting your dish. The risotto tastes good, but you can’t control your facial expressions when you get to taste a mushroom. It lingers in your mouth while you try to avoid it, not wanting to chew on it - but you do. Your face wrinkles at the taste, you definitely don’t enjoy it, but your stomach wants it, and your body is fighting an internal battle with the mixture of emotions that you’re feeling now.
Lewis watches you attentively, widening his eyes while he waits for you to finally eat the damn mushroom that’s been sitting in your mouth for too long now. You need to make an extra effort to swallow it, and the man in front of you is now feeling sorry for you.
“Baby, my love, light of my life - can you explain to me why the hell you’re doing this to yourself?” - he says with an amused expression, he can’t deny that the show that the facial expressions you are giving him is very entertaining.
You sigh, not wanting to break the news to him in a restaurant full of people. This is your special moment, it belongs to just the two of you, so you hold the words inside of you.
“I just wanted to give it a try. I wanted to have some risotto and I thought it would be a good idea to act like an adult and actually eat the mushrooms” - a frown paints your face now, as you try and push yourself to eat another one, even while feeling like you could throw up anytime now.
“Okay, this is enough” - Lewis says as he takes the plate away from you. “Let’s just order you some food that you actually enjoy, okay?” - he suggests, his hand searching for yours across the table, caressing your knuckles as he reads the disappointed expression on your face now.
You sigh again, shrugging your shoulders, like you don’t know what to do. “But I will have to wait, and I’m so hungry” - you say quietly, feeling slightly embarrassed by your choices now.
Lewis nods his head, agreeing with you. His hands move his own plate to the center of the table, smiling at you while he pushes his chair a little more so he can reach the dish in its new place. You send him a puzzled look in response, but he just signals you to move yourself a little closer to the food as well.
“Come on love, let’s have dinner. I don’t want you to starve and I know you like what I ordered, so please, take a bite. I promise you it’s delicious” - the adorable expression on his face, alongside his soft words, the way his eyes shine as he found a solution to help you, could almost make you cry now. You truly are so lucky to have him.
The way your bodies are so close to the table now, how you share the pasta with love plastered all over your faces, could make anyone wish they were fortunate enough to have what you two have. It’s the way you look at each other, leaning on your elbows so your faces grow closer, adoration and devotion emanating from your bodies, creating a bubble of love around you two, like there’s no one else in the world, at this moment. You eat in silence, letting a few giggles and smiles escape your lips as your eyes speak for both of you now.
“I love you so much” - Lewis says as he holds your hand gently, his fingers caressing yours after you finish your dinner now.
“I love you even more. You even shared your dish with me” - you note with a small laugh, wishing you could stay in this moment forever.
“Oh, please. I would rather be the one not eating just for you to have the food, my love. I share my life with you, why the hell wouldn’t I share dinner with my beautiful wife?” - he grins, kissing your hand softly. He is feeling softer, his body is melting at the way you seem to warm his heart every time he is in need of it. He just wants to hold you, kiss you, cuddle you, his eyes can’t stop shining at the sight of you, at the realization that he is, indeed, the luckiest man on the planet for having you.
“I’ll just go to the bathroom before we leave, okay? I think we need some cuddle time on the sofa” - you let him know, while he nods his head at your suggestion - it’s like you could read his mind.
Lewis’ eyes follow your silhouette on your way to the bathroom, a smile resting on his face while he feels your loving aura still lingering in the air - it’s like you’re a poem, one that remains in his mind after he read it, feeling it running through his veins as he grew obsessed with it, like a loving set of words that he remembers every single day when he sees you.
All your good parts, all the flaws, the adventures you explore together, each moment forms a different chapter in the pages of your life. And he can’t stop thanking God, life, destiny, for putting him in your way, for allowing him to be part of your story, to write a couple of poems by your side. You are the book that he wants to read every single day, for the rest of his life, and he could never get tired of it.
After a second, Lewis notices another guy completely checking you out as you pass by him, and his eyebrows furrow when he notices the dude changing his position at the bar, like he’s ready to meet you once you step outside - and the calm bubble that once surrounded yours and his mind, bursts.
His instinct kicks in, immediately getting up from his seat at the table to pay for your dishes. He then positions his body near the bathroom exit, in a way that it would make it harder for the other guy to reach you once you show up.
He is just tired, exhausted really, and he can’t help but feel some jealousy creeping through his body at the way other dudes check you out. You truly are the most gorgeous woman he has ever laid his eyes on, and he understands that other guys notice your beauty. Any other day, it would boost his ego, knowing that you are his, he is the lucky one that gets to be married to you. But tonight, he just wants to go home, he wants to have you all to his eyes only - he can’t stop his possessive trait to show now.
You leave the bathroom, facing Lewis as soon as you step out, surprised by the way he is at the door - expecting to find him still at your table. “Someone is eager for that cuddle session, I see” - you giggle, wrapping your body around his arm, but frowning when you notice how stiff his body feels now and how silent he goes.
“What’s wrong, baby?” - you ask him, wondering what could’ve happened to make his mood backtrack so much in just a few minutes.
He sighs, holding the door for you to walk out the restaurant. “Let’s just go home, please. I am not in the mood for this” - he answers, as both of you enter the car now.
You look at him attentively while you notice the way his face fell so quickly, how he seems to be feeling discouraged and upset again.
“Lew… talk to me, baby. I’m here for you” - your hand finds his, nestling it on your lap as your fingers gently caress his knuckles. You turn your body to him, using your left hand to gently touch his cheek.
The way you touch his skin so lightly, so softly, makes his head lean on your hand instinctively, his body searching for more comfort, for your warmth.
“I got jealous because of this dude checking you out when you left the table. But I am so exhausted, I don’t even have the strength to deal with my own feelings right now, so I just wanted to leave as soon as possible. I don’t want to feed those stupid emotions, I already have my mind full of problems and concerns” - he admits, his eyes looking smaller in his face, due to the tiredness enduring in his body.
You nod your head, understanding his words. You make sure to keep comforting his body, loving the way he seems to relax when he feels your touch. “Baby, you know you don’t have to worry about any of that. I don’t care about any guys looking at me and you know it. I chose you, I married you, and I would choose you every single time. You’re the only one I want, silly” - you tell him with a giggle, your finger carefully bopping the tip of his nose, making him smile softly.
He knows about all that - of course he does. But it’s the way he hears it coming from you, it’s your words that are comforting him, the way you are always by his side when he is feeling down and doubtful, like his safety net - always ready to hold him and to make him feel safe in a heartbeat.
Now, it’s just you and him in the car - still parked in front of the restaurant, Lewis not having the will to drive just yet while he is venting about the way his mind feels so chaotic now. But you’re enjoying it: the silence, the way the moon reflects on the windows, letting some light in so you can see each other’s features. Your legs are now resting on his lap - a way he found to bring your body closer to his, wanting to feel you more, to draw patterns on your skin while your fingers still move on his features lovingly.
There it is: your safe place again, your bubble of love and protection, the calm surrounding you while all the chaos stays outside - like it can’t reach you and your husband when you are together. And you feel like you could burst right here, right now, knowing you still have such an important surprise to tell him. Your heart is beating out of your chest, you try to take subtle deep breaths, but you realize that there’s no point in waiting until you two get home - not when you feel so comfortable and at peace in this moment.
“And I also think that you shouldn’t focus on that, right now. We have something bigger to worry about from now on” - you tell him quietly, while you try to suppress the huge smile threatening to form on your face.
Lewis closes his eyes at your words, sighing. “You’re right. This season hasn’t been going well at all, and we still don’t know how things are going to go next year-” - he starts rambling, his mind immediately going back to all his problems at work, not even realizing that you’re trying to hint something now.
“No” - you say between giggles, catching his attention. “Love, I am pregnant” - you tell him while your hand caresses your stomach gently, some tears appearing in your eyes already.
Lewis stays silent for a second, his mouth agape at what he just heard. “Wh- What? Pregnant? Really, baby?” - his voice is quiet and low, he feels his vision getting blurry as well now as he turns his entire body to you, facing you completely and inspecting your body, his eyes gluing themselves to your belly immediately.
You just nod your head, letting the tears slide through your cheeks as Lewis reaches for you, hugging you tightly while he moves your body gently so you can sit on his lap now. It’s the way he holds you, breathing heavily as he lets his own tears fall free as well.
“You’re going to be a daddy, my love. The best dad ever” - you confirm, smiling wide at him, while the crying matches both of you.
“I am going to be a dad. Oh my God, I am going to be a dad! This is the best news ever” - the man hides his face on your neck as he keeps crying silently, his own hand caressing your stomach instinctively now. Your hand caresses his scalp, the effervescent feeling of happiness surrounding both of you now seems never ending.
“I love you so much, my love. I love you, I love you. Thank you, I don’t even know what to say. I’m so happy, baby. We are going to be parents!” - he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, one of his hands holding your cheek, but the other one never leaving your belly now.
You just giggle at his words, seeing how his eyes are shining so brightly now. Even if it’s dark inside the car right now, you can still see it - the feeling of realization, of pure love, happiness. The way his wide smile is making his eyes look small because he can’t stop the excitement that’s running through his veins now - forgetting about all the problems that were surrounding his mind just a few minutes ago.
“I found out this morning. The test says I’m 5 weeks pregnant, but I’m booking a doctor’s appointment to make sure” - you let him know while your fingers wipe the tears from your face, calming down now.
“5 weeks?!” - his eyes widen as he sniffles a bit. “That’s why you’ve been acting weird, right? Your stomach has been feeling off, that weird thing with mushrooms just now…” - Lewis starts connecting the dots.
You nod your head again, a laugh escaping your lips. “Yeah” - you don’t even want to think about the mushrooms again, feeling nauseous just by the thought of it.
“Jesus darling, that was so painful to watch” - he is the one erupting in laughter now, but a few seconds after, he is paying attention to your stomach.
“Hey, little bean. It’s daddy” - Lewis smiles to himself as he talks to your belly now, something that he couldn’t imagine that would be happening now. “You need to stop making mommy eat food that she doesn’t like, please. I can tell you that her silly faces are fun to watch, but please try to avoid it, alright? So she won’t get mad at both of us” - his giggles echo through the car, making you laugh as well.
“No, but for real, now. I am going to do everything in my power to take care of both of you, to protect you and to make sure you have everything that you need” - his eyes focus on yours for a moment, in a promise of love - of forever, a promise that he will never fail.
And you know it. And this is why you know that Lewis will be the best dad you could ever ask for your baby. Because he’s attentive, caring, dedicated - and he has been dreaming of becoming a dad for years now, waiting for the right person, the right time.
If you were going to ask him, he might think that this wasn’t the ideal time - considering all the chaos he’s been living through at work. But everything happens for a reason, and he has no doubts that this baby is coming into your lives at the right time, to light up his world, his days, to give him another reason to continue, even when he feels down. Another reason to rise.
And that night, when you lay next to each other, he hugs you close, and the way you smile at each other, shyly, lovingly, says everything to the both of you - he has never been more sure that he will forever be in love with you. His hands wrap around your belly gently when he spoons your figure, breathing in your hair - his favorite scent ever, immediately associating it with you, everywhere he is.
You are his home, and you have been for the past however many years. But now, you are also the home of your baby, and Lewis is so grateful that he chose you - to be his wife, and the mother of his babies. He is proud to make all his dreams come true by your side.
“Goodnight, my loves. I love both of you so much” - he whispers in your ear, leaving small kisses on your cheek, neck and shoulder while his hands caress your belly - even if it doesn’t look like a baby is inside there yet. But you and Lewis know there is, and that’s enough to make your hearts warm.
His arms are the place where you feel the safest. He is the one that calms your heartbeat, that quiets down all your fears and worries - just like how you do for him. He is the one that completes you, the pillar of your family.
Poetry is not on the streets, poetry is not in life. Poetry is in your eyes, in the way you see things, in the way you feel everything around you. And there couldn’t be a better poem than the sight of the love of your life wrapped around you, his hands touching your belly, dreaming about your baby already.
The most beautiful poem, carefully written and planned by all the gods standing in the roman coliseum, taking them centuries to finish their best work - him. And how grateful you are for being able to have him all to yourself, to call him your husband and now, father of your baby. Raising a family by his side truly is the most beautiful chapter that you could write together, and you have no doubts about it.
Now you just have to be patient, in need to calm your racing heart at the thought of wanting to know everything about your child already, of holding your baby in your arms. Now, everything seems a bit confusing, a thousand questions and fears popping in your brain. But you’re sure of one thing: love will never fail your baby - he is already so, so loved. And the journey is just about to start.
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mercurial-chuckles · 3 months ago
Note
is smutober still open? if yes can i ask for stucky x f!reader + 17. "seeing the love marks they left on their partner later and getting turned on all over again remember how it got there in the first place"? i thought maybe steve or bucky seeing the marks the other left on reader? or even better, steve or buck seeing the marks reader left on them. anyway, up to you, i love all of your stucky works, you make their relationship feel so real and i love how you don't focus solely on the boys with reader but on bucky and steve and their love for each other as well.
Wanton Affairs
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Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader x Bucky Barnes | Stucky x F!Reader Warnings: Overloaded Fluff Galore | Domestic Supersoldiers | Poly relation | Language | THE SMUT galore | Threesome | Fingering | Littleshit supersoldiers on the loose | Irresistible Bucky | One torn bra | Supersoldier Sandwich | Soft!dom Steve | Soft!dom Bucky | ~6k of fluffy n filthy goodness | I've broken the fic into three parts with breaks if you wish to stop and continue later | Unedited. If you find any errors (you will), please kindly ignore them for the moment. I typed as I went. I'm too disoriented to edit, but I will as soon as I can | Lemme know if I'm missing anything. A/N: My first threesome. I mean, first time writing a threesome. I'm already whimpering in dread. So, be gentle with me. Treat me tenderly, and some validation would really ease me. Thank you for sending in the ask for SMUT-BER FEST. My apologies for how--embarrassingly--long it's taken to get to your ask. I hope you enjoy reading it, my sweet anon! And thank you for your kind words. This is also my submission for Stucky Bingo | Prompt: Napping | @stuckybingo Most importantly, I've added a small dialogue prompt inspired by Trick or Treat wheel of potential doom. @yenzys-lucky-charm I'm sorry this thought has been marinating in my head for so long, love. I'm way past the due date, and this isn't technically my submission. Since you mentioned how excited you were about this prompt, and now that I've FINALLY gotten inspired, I wanted to tag you. Please feel free to ignore it if any elements of this fic aren't your forte ✨ Hope I did it justice 🩷 Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! Banner and Divider made by me. Picture credits to internet! Thank you :) Check out my other works: Masterlist
Indulge Away!
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Bucky gets what he wants, even if it means seducing fighting an annoyed Steve Rogers
Bucky, as per Steve's entirely unqualified yet riveting diagnosis, was a little shit with a severe case of cuteness aggression.
Why, you ask?
Well, it was 2 p.m., and Bucky had just returned home from the compound. And when he walked in and saw you peacefully napping, he absolutely couldn't resist his joy.
Despite Steve's firm warning that you needed rest after pulling an all-nighter, Bucky just couldn't help himself. He'd missed you terribly all day--too many hours apart.
So, like the true, needy mess that he was, he decided to be obnoxiously loud, hoping you'd stir awake, give him a warm smile that would relax him in no seconds, and let him curl up next to you.
Those were the hopes of the brunette man.
But his other love--the too-practical, too-Captainy--was already dousing his plans in cold water.
It wasn't that Bucky didn't understand the importance of your sleep--he did. He knew you'd been putting in extra hours, working on the analysis of some foil, and you hardly slept the last few days and that you didn't sleep at all last night.
Stupid Project!
But you, in all your serene, angelic glory, just looked so irresistible lying there.
Not to be too dramatic but he was desperate and downright itching for you to hold him.
Last night had been miserable. He'd tossed and turned all night, and with Steve holed up at the compound, there was no one to hold him while he slept. Which, of course, meant sleep was out of the question. Steve had tried convincing him to come over, mumbling something about hologram testing and training updates--like that was supposed to be enticing.
A bunch of lies, if you asked Bucky.
Steve was a really needy puppy. The man could hardly stand being away from you for too long without either of them keeping watch. And sure, the offer had been tempting, but Bucky had backed off, figuring he'd crash on the couch with some trash TV instead. The last thing he wanted was to deal with Tony along with his sizable ego and the others when he was in a mood. Not that he disliked any of them--he just wasn't in the headspace for socializing. So, he let Steve play the responsible Captain at the Compound while you worked and he decided to stay back and suffer in peace.
In the early hours that morning, he went to his scheduled training session, running on barely any sleep. You had texted saying you'd be home in the evening, but when he saw you both back earlier than expected, he just couldn't resist, could he?
Thus, he proceeded with his noisy campaign to wake you up, much to Steve's horror.
"Bucky," Steve hissed from across the room as Bucky slammed the bathroom door.
"Stop that," he warned, half-amused by the exaggeratedly loud noises Bucky had been making since the moment he arrived home. Steve's enhanced hearing only made it worse, amplifying the noise tenfold. But Bucky had the same enhanced hearing, and Steve knew how stealthy his lover could be. That meant Bucky was intentionally making a racket to wake you up--and that annoyed Steve.
"Stop what?" Bucky huffed, raising an eyebrow as he marched toward Steve, intentionally stomping every step.
Though it had plenty of closet space, the walk-in closet attached to the bedroom was far too small for the two of them. Steve had dimmed the lights to avoid disturbing you and even drew the curtains in the bedroom to block out the intense afternoon light pouring through the windows.
"Shh... she's sleeping," Steve shushed, flinging a shirt he was folding toward Bucky in an attempt to get him to stop. But Bucky caught it mid-air, tossed it back into the laundry bin with a grin, and, without missing a beat, yanked Steve toward him by the collar of his undershirt.
Bucky cradled Steve's jaw with an exaggerated air of seriousness, murmuring lowly, "Ya know, I just saw a picture of a grumpy cat online that looked exactly like you."
Bucky's grin widened.
Steve's frown deepened, and the playful glint in Bucky's eyes only intensified.
Rolling his eyes, Steve swatted Bucky's hands away from his cheeks and snorted in amusement. "You sure it wasn't you?" he deadpanned, picking up clothes one by one and sorting them into fold piles and hangers.
Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled Steve by the neck, his lips nearly grazing Steve's.
Poor Stevie couldn't resist now, could he? Because Bucky looked irresistibly handsome, and he was a weak man when it came to Bucky or you.
Steve felt his resolve slip, and before he knew it, his lips were gravitating toward Bucky's as Bucky leaned in for a soft, teasing kiss. A low moan escaped Steve, and before he could deepen the kiss, Bucky pulled away, leaving Steve with nothing but a rush of warmth and utter annoyance.
Steve groaned, rubbing his face. "You're such a jerk," he muttered, irritated by the half-assed kiss and desperate for more.
Bucky's grin widened wickedly. "What? Do you need me, punk? All you gotta do is ask," he teased, "Nicely," he added, his voice thick with amusement, before leaning in again--this time intently, pushing Steve against the tiny space of empty wall beside the door. Their lips collided, groaning at the taste, deepening the kiss as they moved closer, instinctively pulling each other tighter. The arousing kiss continued, building and building until…
The unmistakable tear was heard.
Both of them exchanged a look.
"Oh, shit!" Bucky laughed, pulling away just enough to look down.
Steve followed Bucky's gaze and froze, his face going pale. There, in Steve's hand, were the torn remains of your favorite bra. It was a cute piece, too, with little dinosaurs and cacti prints. You looked adorable wearing it.
"Son of a bitch, that's her comfy one," Steve muttered in exasperation, turning it in his large hands to see if it was remotely salvageable, but the fabric was in tatters.
"Eh…" Bucky hummed, plucking the fabric from Steve's hands, and inspected the shredded piece with little sympathy, "I hate these traps," he muttered.
"Nope, gotta say goodbye," Bucky sniggered, putting the ripped fabric back into Steve's hands. Steve groaned in defeat.
Bucky patted him on the shoulder with exaggerated pity, and taking advantage of Steve's guilty reminiscence, he slipped out of the closet and into the bedroom, leaving Steve standing there, still processing the carnage.
Bucky plopped himself on the bed with zero resistance from Steve whatsoever. He quickly discarded his joggers, cursing himself for deciding to put them on after the shower. He threw them, aiming for the chair, but Steve caught them mid-air, a frown returning to his face.
Bucky's smile widened at the sound of Steve's angry grunts, whispered under his breath. Ignoring all of Steve's warnings, Bucky turned his focus entirely to you, snuggling comfortably beside you, and wondering how best to announce his arrival.
Steve seemed to read his thoughts because he snapped, nearly shouting, "James, get your ass over here and fold the laundry with me if you're so bored!"
Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes. "I'm not bored, Steven. I'm sleepy," he declared, finger traced gently down your cheek, and you made a soft noise in your sleep.
Steve's patience ebbed away all at once. He cast one last look at your peaceful, slumbering form, Steve had just managed to help you fall asleep, and he wasn't about to let Bucky mess it all up.
With a determined stride, Steve marched over, grabbed Bucky by the waist, and hauled him off the bed without warning. Bucky let out a surprised laugh, but Steve anticipated the noise, quickly pressing his hand to Bucky's mouth to silence him as he began marching him out of the room.
"What the hell?" Bucky grumbled, his brain catching up.
Steve only made it two steps into the living room before Bucky, like a reflex, tackled him to the ground with a booming laugh.
"You're really not listening. Let her sleep," Steve hissed, his voice strained from holding back his irritation and laughter.
"I wasn't doing anything," Bucky guffawed, straddling Steve and pinning him to the floor.
"Cut it out, Buck."
Bucky, now the one in control, held both of Steve's wrists to his chest, completely enjoying the struggle.
"GET UP!" Steve grumbled, pretending to be annoyed, but the amused smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.
"Is that all ya got?" Bucky mocked, raising an eyebrow. "For a man who pulled a helicopter…" He tutted in mock disappointment. "Bad, Stevie. You gotta replenish your big boy energy."
Bucky placed a teasing kiss on Steve's jaw, his breath warm against Steve's skin. "I think you need a nap, too," he whispered.
Steve narrowed his eyes, and as the smug grin on Bucky's face fully registered in his mind, "You look quite energized Buck, and you definitely don't need a nap," Steve remarked flippantly.
Bucky's grin faltered, but only for a second. He kept Steve pinned with his metal arm, his face now just inches from Steve's as he leaned in closer. With a soft chuckle, Bucky pushed off Steve, sliding away from him smoothly and practically leaping off the floor and onto the bed in two long strides, knowing fully well that Steve wouldn't repeat the same mistake of hauling him off the bed a second time.
Bucky mentally counted to five, and sure enough, Steve appeared in the doorway, a frown marring his adorably stupid face.
Steve walked in fully intending to get the rest of the laundry done, however, he glanced at the bed, eyes greedily taking in Bucky's overtly happy and awfully comfortable expression snuggling beside you, and Steve sighed, conceding defeat. With a roll of his eyes, he finally walked over to the bed and carefully settled on the other side.
"You're folding the laundry later," Steve mouthed to Bucky, his voice just above a whisper. He then carefully slid his right arm around your waist, almost instinctively, and settled it over Bucky's side of the bed.
Bucky chuckled proudly, satisfied with himself. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before slowly slipping your hand from beneath your pillow, gently resting it on his own. Your familiar scent filled the space between them, soothing Bucky like the pleasant sound of rain.
Steve peeked at Bucky, a small, affectionate smile tugging at his lips as he felt your feet worm their way between his legs. Bucky's right arm found Steve's on top of your pillow, and without a second's delay, Steve interlaced his fingers with Bucky's, letting out a quiet hum of satisfaction.
"Such a punk," Steve murmured, squeezing Bucky's hand affectionately.
Bucky snorted. His eyes fluttered closed, surrendering to the soothing calmness of both you and Steve.
"And no funny business," Steve added softly, his voice almost teasing as he kissed the top of your head, his breath warm on your skin. Bucky smiled to himself, too content to bite back with a reply.
The absolute nerve of Steve to question Bucky's purer, entirely innocent intentions of cuddling and falling asleep peacefully.
****
Steve is sometimes ALWAYS right
Still groggy and barely awake, you blinked open your eyes--only to be met with two bright blue ones and a wide grin. It scared the shit out of you, and you let out an ungraceful squeak.
"Fuck you, Bucky," you mumbled in surprise, but your cry was quickly muffled by his cold metal palm as he hushed you.
You blinked a few more times, adjusting to your surroundings, finally registering the cozy, familiar position you were wrapped in. The warmth of Steve behind you, his face pressed into your shoulder blade, his nose tickling your skin as the unmistakable sound of his snoring reverberated through your back.
"Stevie's snoring? Aww." You cooed, a sleepy, contented pout pulling at your lips. Bucky grinned beside you, nodding.
It was rare for either of them to snore--what with the serum taking most of the brunt of their bodies--but once in a while, exhaustion got the better of them.
"I recorded it, too," Bucky told you proudly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips.
You sighed happily, licking your lips--his kiss felt like the sun's warmth on a cold winter day.
"Of course you did," you chuckled, a yawn slipping out before you could stop it.
Just as expected, Bucky tried to slip his fingers into your mouth mid-yawn, but you swatted his hand away before he could pull his usual antics. He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that charming, divinely gorgeous way that always made your heart flutter.
"What's the time?" you murmured, tugging at his t-shirt. Bucky slid closer, effortlessly molding against you as you hooked a leg over his hip, his thigh slotting between yours. His warmth, his scent--you savored every bit of him.
God, you'd missed him. Missed them.
"4:15," he whispered, voice low and soothing. He leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, his metal fingers brushing your cheek, tucking away a few stray strands. At some point, your braid must have loosened in your sleep.
"How was training?" you asked, voice drowsy. Bucky grunted in response, lips trailing lazy kisses along your skin. You hummed, fingers idly playing with the fabric of his t-shirt, knowing exactly what that grunt meant. Training without Steve usually had him in a mood.
Bucky shifted just an inch away, his eyes locked on yours. And you smiled at him, watching his eyes twinkle with love. Unable to resist, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his chin. A comfortable silence settled. Bucky and you got lost in each other's touches, eyes blinking slowly.
"You really haven't been sleeping much, have you?" Bucky murmured, his brows twitching into a concerned frown.
You reached up, smoothing your fingers over the crease between them, watching as the tension melted from his face. He sighed under your touch, and you only shrugged slightly, a small pout tugging at your lips.
"I guess," you whispered, your fingers drifting down to gently massage his jaw. Bucky let out a low, satisfied hum, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.
It was during these rare silences--filled with unspoken love you pondered how far you had come. You were so grateful. So unbelievably proud of the choices you had all made, of the life you had built together.
Bucky's expression softened even more as he grumbled, "I'm sorry." His lower lip jutted out just enough to make you want to suckle on it--so you did.
He let out a pleased hum, pressing a soft peck to your lips, his warm breath tickling your senses as he continued, "For trying to wake you up while you were sleeping. I'm such a jerk sometimes."
You let out a quiet laugh but quickly stilled when you felt Steve shift behind you, his forehead pressing snugly against the column of your neck as he instinctively pulled you closer. You waited, holding your breath to see if he would wake. When he didn't, you relaxed and turned your attention back to Bucky, your fingers trailing along his cheek, savoring the contrast between his soft skin and the roughness of his stubble.
"You think I even noticed? I was out like a light," you teased, grinning wide. "Besides, nothing to be sorry about… I know you're my Sugarpuss."
Bucky's eyes widened in mock offense as he dramatically gestured toward Steve. "He's Sugarpuss."
"No, he's not. He's the wise and responsible one of us. He keeps us in line. Besides, he'd only ever call you Sugarpuss," you teased, winking.
Bucky scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Though… you're more of a sourpuss most of the time," you added with a playful smirk.
Bucky let out a dramatic grunt before suddenly pulling you closer. Steve shifted behind you, now sprawled out on his stomach.
"I'd beat his ass if he ever called me that," Bucky muttered, tossing a leg over you and tugging you flush against him.
"You'd beat my ass too?" you teased, grinning as you pressed soft butterfly kisses along his neck.
Bucky moaned in satisfaction, the deep rumble of his throat vibrating against your lips.
"You're my pretty girl. You can call me any shitty name you want," he murmured, eyes crinkling with affection.
Before you could fawn over that, another snore rumbled from Steve, and Bucky turned his head to glance at him.
Shaking his head in mock disbelief, he huffed, "And he said he didn't need a nap."
"Yeah?" you asked, unable to resist the giggle bubbling up.
"Yeah. Hell-bent on me not lurking around you," Bucky said, shaking his head.
You laughed, snuggling deeper into his warmth.
"Guess what? He came by the lab... Captain mode," you whispered, your fingers threading through Bucky's hair, tugging just the way he liked. He let out a happy sigh, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.
"Really?" Bucky rasped, his voice thick with interest. His hand found the band of your panties, and he snapped them. You squirmed, feeling the warmth bubbling.
"Yeah! He announced that there was a meeting and that I was needed," you continued, chuckling. "Carried me home and put me to sleep."
Bucky hummed his palm kneading slow, lazy circles into your hip. His touch was heavy, possessive. His metal arm slipped underneath your shirt.
"Bucky…" you warned, shaking your head slightly.
But Bucky grinned, squeezing and massaging your tit, flicking your nipple. You squirmed, breath hitching at the sensation.
His smirk was downright sinful. "Put you to sleep, huh?"
Bucky seemed to take pity because he moved his hand away, but only for his fingers now trailing along your collarbone, then down the length of your neck. The cool Vibranium warmed instantly against your skin as he pushed your--Steve's--t-shirt off your shoulder.
"He left marks, didn't he?" you asked, tilting your head slightly, your face reddening up at the memory of Steve taking you apart after you denied that you were not sleepy.
Bucky huffed in mock offense, his fingers ghosting over the faint hickeys. "And he tells me, 'No funny business, Buck.'" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Wise, my ass. I'm the wiser one." The words were more for himself than for you, his lips trailing along the column of your neck.
The way your body responded to him was crazy.
"And I feel absolutely left out," Bucky murmured against your mouth, the warmth of his breath making you shiver.
The need to taste him, to pull him closer, was overwhelming.
"We can't have that, Buck," you whispered.
And then, as if reading each other's minds, you both moved at once. The kiss was passionately satiating yet a consuming hunger overwhelmed you. His tongue trailed inside your mouth, lapping at you hungrily, sucking on your bottom lip.
"You're a goddess, you know that?" he rasped, moaning at the taste, revving you up just right. "Fuck, I missed you so much," Bucky growled lowly. Your dismissive protests of his praise were captured by his mouth, kissing you more while he trailed his metal fingers down your stomach, slipping them into your panties.
Beautiful dilated blues gazed at you, and you arched into him, pulling at the short strands of his hair at the back when he cupped your heat and squeezed it. The moan that escaped you was hungrily captured again, hushing you by kissing.
And Steve shifted behind you, making you still in realization.
"Steve is sleeping," you murmured half-heartedly, feeling Steve shift slightly behind you, but Bucky chuckled, the absolute menace that he was, his fingers prodded at your slick entrance, "Gotta be real quiet then, hmm?" he groaned.
"Buck…" You started, only to be shut off by one finger inching inside, and your breath hitched.
"These are not helping," he groaned, caressing and nipping at the marks Steve left on you earlier.
You gripped onto his back, fingers digging into his skin as retribution for the pleasure he was providing you. Bucky nipped at the skin right under your ear, making you squirm. He pushed his second finger inside, setting a languid pace, and let out a rather low growl.
You moaned into his ear, licking the skin on the side of his neck, nipping. God, he smelled like temptation, and you felt weak.
You cried in delight as you felt his fingers hit the spot he was privy to.
You felt parched, and you needed him.
"I know, I know. Good fucking girl," he rumbled, shifting onto his back and pulling you effortlessly on top of him. You stumbled against his chest, breathless, limbs tangled.
You froze for a second, glancing at Steve, but he was still fast asleep, his steady breathing undisturbed.
When you looked back at Bucky, he was grinning up at you, dazed and smug, his eyes glinting wickedly.
You had a good retort ready, but he curled his fingers, turning the words into a moan, and his other hand weaved into your hair, bringing you close to his mouth and sucking your lower lip.
"Quiet, pretty girl. Don't wanna disturb him. Do we?" You bit onto his jaw, holding back the moans that were trying to escape.
Bucky adjusted you in his arms, pressing you against his strong chest, his fingers fucking your wet and welcoming heat. "Hmm. Fuck, you smell divine," he grunted.
Your teeth grazed his skin, his scent hit you tenfold, and the pleasure made you heady.
"Beautiful," Bucky mumbled, his fingers curled expertly inside, and you teetered on the edge of pleasure, breath caught.
"And mine. Ours," Bucky added, moaning against the corner of your mouth, his hips thrusting up against your thigh. The tickling sensation of his hardness made you squirm, and Bucky's languid thrusts turned faster.
"Bucky," You moaned, and he captured your mouth in a sloppy kiss.
"Yeah? Gonna cum, aren't you? Fuck. My perfect girl," he encouraged, and you nodded, mouth falling open, speechless, while your pussy gripped onto his fingers. The sensation hit you fast, clutching you into the depths of pleasure.
Bucky held you tightly, kissing your jaw as you rode your orgasm. He pulled his fingers out slowly, and you whimpered when he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean. His eyes shut for a moment. "Bucky," you breathed. The sight always mortified and did things to you.
"I wanna eat you," he muttered hoarsely, his voice humming through his chest, making your heart flutter.
"But I know you can't keep quiet if I get my mouth on you," he chuckled condescendingly, pushing his boxers down, and your eyes widened, looking at him pointedly.
You shook your head at him, this time more vehemently, but Bucky's smug grin only widened as he adjusted you properly, and your hands held onto him for stability. He nudged you with a wink, giving himself a stroke and slotting his tip at your entrance. Your hesitation vanished with how good it felt.
You both could be quiet, right?
Your breath hitched as he slowly rocked from underneath, and you collapsed onto his broad chest.
"Are you close already?" He cooed, completely sheathed inside you. Bucky gritted his teeth when he felt you clench him.
Your breath caught as your fingers gripped at his t-shirt, and your mouth muffled with bites.
Bucky was making you speechless, wild, and a moaning mess.
A loud guttural groan escaped him, and you hushed him pointedly.
"Fuck, I can't help it," He remarked.
****
When Captain Rogers wakes up. Teehee!
Feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, you nipped at his collarbone. Bucky's palm flexed on your hip, pulling you more into him, and the slight pain it caused made you clench onto him tightly while pleasure rippled through your body.
Bucky hissed, muttering how perfectly you milked him. When his tip kissed your cervix, you moaned.
"Mmm…feels like heaven. Doesn't it?" Bucky hissed, pushing your t-shirt to the side harshly and biting your shoulder. Your nails dug into his biceps, metal and flesh alike, tightly. The contrast urged you on more.
Your t-shirt--Steve's t-shirt--rucked up high with all the thrusting, and you pushed Bucky's t-shirt just a bit up to feel his skin against yours--taut, muscular, soft, scarred, and all yours. "You're so pretty, Buck," You sighed happily, his hardness feeling so full and fulfilling, and you felt the familiar rush as you careened into pleasure.
A sleepy snort broke the moment, followed by a large, steady hand wrapping around your waist, halting your movement. The pleasure that had been building crashed just as fast, leaving you teetering on the edge. You almost wailed in frustration.
You and Bucky turned at the same time, cheek-to-cheek, to face the culprit.
Steve was awake--barely. Propped up on one elbow, his face was adorably scrunched, hair sleep-mussed, eyes narrowed at the two of you with faux disapproval. He let out a deep, raspy chuckle, the sound rolling through your body teasingly, making you squirm against Bucky.
You unknowingly clenched him just a bit, and Bucky groaned, rocking into you.
Bucky's stubble tickled your cheek as he spoke, his chuckle vibrating through his chest.
"Hands off, Steve. We're in the middle of something," Bucky growled, emphasizing his point with a deep thrust. No one could stop the moan coming from you. The pleasure building again.
When Steve tapped your cheek, you opened your eyes to see his amused grin. In the next instant, Steve straddled Bucky, towering over you from behind. His hand tightened around your waist before you were haphazardly lifted off Bucky.
Both you and Bucky hissed at the sudden loss of contact.
You expected Steve to throw you onto the bed, but no. Your eyes widened as you looked at Bucky, who looked back with an expression of both amusement and irritation.
Steve smacked your butt, and you squealed, trying hard to steady yourself on Bucky.
Steve didn't give you time. He pulled you up against his warm chest, discarding your--his--t-shirt and throwing away his to the side. Bucky's gaze shifted to your tits, and he grinned, his both hands coming up to squeeze them.
"Can't help yourself, Buck. Can you?" Steve taunted. Bucky cursed, throwing empty threats at Steve. Steve angled your hips, rubbing his tip against your slick.
Oh, Fuck! Your eyes widened.
You collapsed on Bucky at the sensation, and he steadied you.
"STEVE…Holy…" You gasped as Steve entered you slowly from behind without much resistance, simultaneously bending you onto Bucky.
Bucky was still hard, and he twitched against your tummy, hot and wet.
"Gotta teach him a lesson," Steve said, and honestly, you didn't care. You just want them to stop edging you.
Bucky bared his teeth in sweet agony as he moved to touch himself, but Steve was faster, and he swatted Bucky's hand away.
"Nuh-uh, you're gonna watch while I make our pretty girl feel good," Steve chuckled darkly, his broad frame engulfing you as he nuzzled your neck, placing soft kisses on your shoulder.
"Steve," Bucky gritted in annoyance, trying to squirm away.
"Can't take one order," Steve mocked, riling Bucky up, his hand splayed on the inside of your right thigh and spread you some more, firmly adjusting you on Bucky's torso.
"Fuckkkkk," You cried.
"You're not my boss," Bucky growled challengingly. You could feel him squirm under you both.
"Is that so?" Steve hummed from over your shoulder, too pleased with himself. His hands loosened the grip around you and moved to Bucky's jaw while Steve's other hand held your waist, hoisting you up just a bit. You held onto his forearm with both hands as you felt your knees wobble.
"You're such a punk," Bucky chuckled, his eyes blown in hazy lust. And with a single tap against his lips, Bucky sucked onto his thumb. The sight was hot and was making you delirious with need. You clenched around Steve, and a breathy gasp turned into a moan when Steve pulled out and thrust into you.
Your nails dug into Steve's arm harshly as the pleasure wrecked you.
Bucky pulled you and Steve on top of him and Steve eased you gently onto Bucky and pinned his hands beside him. The angled thrust had you almost coming. Almost.
Their weight and warmth added to your pleasure. Steve adjusted your hips as he pounded you from behind.
Steve nudged against your neck, propping against your shoulder as he leaned toward Bucky.
"I said no funny business. Didn't I?" Steve reminded Bucky, their banter holding nothing back as Steve pounded into you without breaking pace while Bucky kissed your parted mouth.
Bucky winked. "You have no right demanding shit from me, punk." he traced the slightly dark marks on the expanse of your chest, ones that Steve took his time leaving earlier.
Steve's breathless laugh tickled your throat as he pulled Bucky for a kiss, effectively squishing you between them. The angle only made you scream as pleasure shot through you.
"Easy there," Bucky warned Steve.
"FUCKK…" Steve lifted you off Bucky slightly, his one arm wrapping around you carefully, firmly, resting both of your weights on his knees, straddling Bucky.
"Don't worry, Sweetheart. I aim to please. You know that," Steve said to Bucky while adjusting Bucky's cock directly where you were connected, rubbing it gently on your clit, and you gasped, squirming away from his grip. The sensation was driving you nuts.
All three of you moaned in sync. A litany of curses spewed.
You threw your head onto Steve's shoulder, both hands gripping his forearm as he rocked into you.
"Eyes on me," Bucky demanded, squeezing your tit and pinching your nipple. It felt like a Herculean task to open your eyes, but you did, meeting his darkened blues. He parted his lips, tongue peeking out as he forced you closer. Steve loosened his grip, maneuvering you closer to Bucky.
"You smell so fucking good," Bucky grunted, taking you in a searing kiss.
"Look at you. So needy. Fuck, I could do this all day," Steve moaned, increasing his pace. Despite the pleasure coursing through, both you and Bucky rolled your eyes at him in sync, and a few breathy chuckles escaped you.
"Shut up," Steve exclaimed, chuckling. Steve unwound one of his forearms and trailed it up Bucky's chest, carding through Bucky's short locks as he tugged them.
"OH FUCKKK…" Bucky moaned lewdly, baring his teeth and biting his lower lip.
"Can't take one order now, can you?" Steve hissed as his pace faltered, he was close, fucking sporadically.
Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours with a squeeze that spoke of love amidst the filthy, noisy mess you all were making. Steve placed an open-mouthed kiss on your neck, nipping as his fingers from Bucky's hair moved to place his large palm on his chest, right above Bucky's heart.
Bucky's erection rubbed against you and Steve hard and fast, right where you were joined.
"You're close, aren't you, Buck," Steve grunted as he rolled his hips, pressing you sensually against Bucky.
The manly groans, their scent, and their warmth, added to the sweet sensations…Holy Shitz! You were coming for the second time that day around Steve.
"I love you both. FUCK!" Steve moaned, thrusting a couple more times before you felt the hot white ropes filling you up, and you came tumbling down as white-hot pleasure throbbed your senses as you milked him, clutching onto both of them so tightly that it would have left their bones broken were they not supersoldiers.
"Oh shit!" Bucky groaned as he rocked upwards, cumming all over your front and his.
Your body flailed as you collapsed into Bucky, and so did Steve. Steve's taut, sweaty, muscular chest weighed you down onto Bucky, and his partial weight felt heavenly on you.
"I love you," You breathed, eyes closed as you nuzzled into Bucky's soft t-shirt, the stars still exploding behind your lids.
You felt euphoric!
The three of you laid there for a while.
You didn't--couldn't--open your eyes when you were readjusted, now lying on Steve.
Steve's laughter rumbled against your back as you felt Bucky move over you.
"Open 'em, sweet girl," Bucky cooed against your mouth, and you did. He grinned widely.
"You got one more in you, don't you, doll?" Bucky asked. His cock was hard, tip nudging your slick heat.
You bit your lip, not directly answering, but rocking against his tip. Bucky gave a dazzling smile as he inched inside you.
Oh, you were going to be sore and would need all the rest, but you couldn't deny your man, could you now?
"Good girl," Bucky groaned as he gently adjusted you above Steve.
"I love me some supersoldier sandwich," you managed to utter, your words broken and mostly turning into a moan.
"Oh, we're aware," Steve quirked, placing kisses alongside your neck, spreading your thighs wide, and holding them firmly as Bucky fucked you in missionary on Steve.
"Feels good, Buck? Is my cum warming you up well?" Steve taunted, revving Bucky up a bit more.
Steve moved strands of hair out of your face and brushed Bucky's forehead, and you could feel his hardness poking your hips.
Bucky groaned as he fucked with much more vigor. Dear Heavens! You felt every thrust, and it also made you conscious of your weight pressing into Steve.
A thought, while quite stupid, crept into your fucked out mind unknowingly.
"Hey, hey…too much?" Bucky asked, stalling his movements. You blushed, shaking your head, and tilted behind and looked up at a concerned Steve.
"Are you okay?" You asked him. You saw the look of recognition in his eyes, and his concern etched away.
"I am, sweetheart," Steve sighed, adjusting you more firmly, and you squealed. Bucky tapped your cheek, and you met his gaze reluctantly.
"Buck, love some sense into her, harder," Steve chuckled, placing a kiss on your temple, his hands massing your thighs.
You gasped. "I didn't mean…OH FUCKKKK," You started, but Bucky's thrust cut you off.
"BUCKY," You moaned.
"Sorry, pretty girl. Captain's orders," Bucky chuckled, fucking you maddeningly fast.
"Oh, now you follow his orders." You cried and arched on Steve's naked body.
Steve's hand tugged at Bucky's hair. And Bucky moaned, biting onto your chest. Steve turned your knees, helping you wrap them around Bucky's, and you clutched onto Bucky tightly.
Steve's hand crept between you and Bucky and rubbed your overstimulated clit. It really didn't take long before you felt the orgasm consume you.
"I'm…"
"Cum for me." Bucky breathed against your skin, his stubble rough and sensual against your chest as he sucked on your tit.
You were thankful that your home was far off civilization, completely private, because the way you shouted, you bet people would have surely freaked the fuck out.
"Holy Shit!" Bucky's hips stuttered, and soon he was filling you up, moaning loudly in that deep voice that made your pussy flutter.
~
"I love you," Steve whispered reverently, and you hummed blissfully, unable to form any words in response after those body-shattering orgasms. You fell into a dreamless void almost immediately, ears ringing as your body trembled in the aftermath of pleasure. You had no idea how long you slept.
"Come on, doll, gotta clean you up." You were barely aware of the events that followed, only remembering being carried to the guest bedroom vividly.
"Gotta change the sheets, doll. Sleep here," Steve said as he gently adjusted you on the queen mattress. Steve and Bucky's muffled voices sifted through your foggy mind.
"You're a fucking idiot, Stevie. I love you," you heard Bucky laugh, and you chuckled, mentally agreeing with him, though you weren't entirely sure what they were talking about.
Steve scoffed playfully, muttering something at Bucky that only made him laugh harder. Then, Steve tucked you in with a warm blanket, placing a tender kiss on your cheek.
"Get going, Buck. You promised to finish up with the laundry. I'll make dinner," Steve said.
"I'll help, too," you mumbled into the pillow.
Steve chuckled, peppering your neck with kisses that made you squirm from the sensation. "You're going to sleep and get all the rest. Understood?" he declared.
"Yes, Captain Rogers," you breathed, relaxing as your weight sank into the mattress. Steve's kiss lingered on your cheek long after, and you heard the floorboards creak as he shuffled away. The door groaned softly when he stepped into the living room.
God, one of you seriously needed to oil the door. The croaking was getting creepy.
Moments later, the bed dipped beside you. Bucky's warm fingers slid through your hair, massaging your scalp with slow, gentle strokes.
"Don't make me come in there, Bucky," Steve's voice carried from the living room, laced with warning.
Bucky chuckled against your neck. "He's such a prick sometimes," he groaned, his breath warm against your skin.
"I heard that," Steve's voice was much closer now. You chuckled sleepily.
"Steve tore your favorite bra," Bucky stage-whispered.
"Huh?" you mumbled, confused. You weren't wearing a bra, though. You blinked your eyes open, only to see Bucky being dragged out of the room.
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allylikethecat · 5 months ago
Note
your specialty is coming up with the craziest ideas (said with sm love) that i would never think i’d read but then i end up unhealthy obsessed with
AHHH thank you so much!! I'm so grateful that all of my crazy weirdass ideas in this fandom have been met so kindly (...the first mpreg fic in the fandom on ao3, the first omegaverse fic in the fandom on ao3, the first Fictional!matty/Fictional!taylor fic (sorry about manifesting that)im, my weird equestrian fic, my weird vampire fic, and now my weird Fictional!Matty/Fictional!Noah Kahan fic...) just thank you so much for being so warm and welcoming and kind and embracing all of my weirdness. I appreciate it more than you even know and am so grateful to be part of such a wonderful community here on tumblr and AO3! And thank you so much for indulging me and sending this ask!!! I hope you continue to enjoy my work, and that you have the absolute best week!
❤️Ally
anonymously tell me what my specialty as a fanfiction writer is
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prismkith · 5 months ago
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may I ask for a oneshot with jinx like introducing her girlfriend, fem!reader to vander/warwick? and for a while he's like just sniffing and eyeing her suspiciously or whatever until he sees her and jinx in a super like intimate and sincerely loving moment?
also! may I be 🫀 anon? :3
Hi! Yes you absolutely may! i loved this request, and I hope you love what I wrote based off of it!
'How I met your grandfather'
pairing: Jinx X Fem!Reader
genre: fluff, maybe a hint of hurt/comfort
Wc: 2835
You sigh as you enter Jinx’s hideout, shoulders sore and the bags under your eyes growing heavier and heavier. You'd been out with Sevika keeping the lanes in check after the Stillwater breakout, and it was tireless. Enforces had been down your throats the entire time, and balancing keeping the enforcers from beating angry zaunites while also wanting to beat the shit out of them yourself had taken its toll. 
The lanes have been a never-ending job since Silco died. 
You felt horrible for leaving jinx alone after the attack, but she understood. You worked for Silco when he was here, and now sevika. She knew what your job entailed and was used to you being gone for days at a time. 
Stepping onto the still wings of the fan, you were confused by the noise or lack thereof. Her hideout was never quiet, always the sound of her tinkering, or having dance parties and bug-boxing matches mixed with Ishas giggles. 
“I’m home! Anybody here?” you call out into the air. The only response is the echo of your own voice. “Isha? Jinx?” you call out once more. Confused, you walk up to her workstation, cluttered and disorganized as always. You're met with a note on her desk, your name in her distinctive scribbly handwriting on the front page. 
‘Hey trinket, we found Vander. Took him to some mystery healer on the edge of Zaun. Meet us there if we aren't back before you.
Love ya’ 
Your eyes widen as you scan the letter once more, her lack of detail slightly worrying. Questions flooded your brain as you flipped her vague note to find directions on the back. 
Scurrying to get your things together as quickly as possible, you take off in the direction of this ‘mystery healer’, your heavy boots loud as you run to find your girlfriend and her back from the dead dad
________________________________________________________________________
You're slightly panting as you reach the gates she directed you to, having sprinted half the way there, and jogged the other half. Pausing for a moment as you catch your breath, you make eye contact with a man standing in front of the gates. 
His eyes are white, and he's covered in these bubbly pearlescent patterns, donned in the strangest clothes you've seen. You manage to mutter “The fuck…” before he’d beckoning you closer. 
You slowly stand up straighter, distrust evident in your features as you begin to approach him. 
Deciding that you in fact, do not want to open the can of worms that is the freaky-looking man with a blank expression, you attempt to walk straight past him, eyes set on the entrance in front of you, searching for any sign of wild blue hair or large semi robot beast.
You're stopped by Mr. Freaky before you can waltz past, his thin frame swerving in front of you. “I must ask that you turn in any weapons before entering,” he says, an odd cadence in his voice that you've never heard from a zaunite. You scoff at this request, “yeah, no thanks” you reply before attempting to shove past once more. 
You stopped once again, his tone firmer this time. “I must insist, as it is the policy of the Machine Herald”. You consider just socking the guy in the face and making a run for it but decide that you don't know what kind of crazy superpowers this guy might have, and to be quite honest you don't want to find out. 
“Look, not gonna happen. Not sure who this ‘machine herald’ is, but I'm looking for someone else. Just let me pass, i’ll be on my merry way and you can keep doing whatever…. This is” the annoyance shameless drips from your voice now, you have places to be and this guy is single-handedly keeping you from said places. 
He once again denies you access, and you lose your shit. You're now (loudly) in a full-blown argument with this guy, neither of you budging. His voice is only starting to rile you up more, and you're an inch away from executing your hit-and-run plan from earlier when you hear the raspy voice of your lover calling your name. 
You freeze immediately, fist pausing mid-air as your eyes dart behind the man to see Jinx, leaning against the entrance, arms crossed and a knowing smirk on her face. 
“Stand down, sergeant. No beating the greeter.” her voice is sarcastic and teasing, and you sigh in defeat. Arms dropping and face annoyed as you reluctantly hand the man your pistol and several pocket knives that you keep strapped to you in various places. 
Once unarmed, the man simply smiles and steps aside, and you make sure to knock him in the shoulder before stomping over to your girlfriend. 
Your annoyance subsides as you see her smiling face, your arms immediately wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her close. You feel her relax into your embrace, strong arms circling your waist and giving you a good squeeze before pulling back. 
“What the hell is this place, and why did that fish-man never change his facial expression once?” you question your voice laced with confusion and slight concern. 
She simply shrugs her shoulders and turns to start guiding you through the odd community full of tents and more people with white eyes and pearlescent patterns. “Vi said she knew of a healer here in the lanes. Said he was performing some miracles or some magic bullshit.” she spins on her heel to look at you while continuing to walk backward. “Personally I think he's just some weird purple fortune teller, but Vi trusts him and Vanders actually getting better, so..” her voice softens during the last part of her sentence, voice trailing off as her eyes cast slightly downward. 
You pause in your tracks, shock evident on your features. “Wait, Vi’s here?” not even attempting to hide the surprise in your voice at the mention of her estranged sister. 
She sighs, once again avoiding eye contact. “Yeah, I mean, it's her dad too. Didn't feel right not letting her know that he's alive, at least.” you slowly nod as you come to terms with her reasoning. 
“Anywho! Now we're here at this weird commune run by a metal fortune cookie that can read minds and I dead honestly think this place is a cult. Everyone here is weird. And the only good food is the fruit. The only snacks are trail mix and it's all eighty percent raisins,” her lip curls in disgust, shaking her head slightly before continuing. “I fucking hate raisins. Just give me a grape, I don't want its juiceless corpse as an alternative.” 
You snort at her wording, but can't help yourself agreeing. Raisins suck and it's a crime to ruin perfectly good snacks with them. 
You continue to follow her, passing tents all full of people dressed similarly to the first man you met. Some were in tents that looked more like workshops, cooking, and sewing, and some in tents that looked more like homes, full of pillows and blankets and small furniture pieces. 
She continues to ramble about this place, she mentions that Isha is off in a tent somewhere helping a group of women weave a blanket (boring),  how the healer (who you figured out is the machine herald from earlier) somehow knew her childhood name, and how Vi had turned into some emo looking alcoholic and lost another fight to jinx in an underground tunnel. 
Finally, her walking begins to slow as you both reach a greenhouse near the middle of the village. It's a dome made of detailed stained glass, and you can vaguely make out the shape of the massive frame of Vander inside. You spot Vi sitting on the edge of what seems to be a water well, and Jinx’s description isn't too off. You make a mental note of the poorly done hair job and vow to make fun of her for it later. 
When Vi looks up and spots you, she sends you a nasty glare before stomping away with an excuse of finding Isha. You roll your eyes, so what if you've tried to kill each other a couple of times? No big deal, honestly. 
Jinx also rolled her eyes and dismissed her sister with a wave of her hand. “She’ll get over it, don't worry. She was just as dramatic when I went to find her.”
She simply crossed her arms, leading you to a bench outside the greenhouse. Once sat, she slumps into your side, shoulder pressing against yours and head leaning against the side of your own. 
“It's weird, you know? It's him, he remembers me and Vi but… he’s also part of this beast he's trapped in. Vi keeps asking for my opinion on… All of this, but I have no clue. I think I'm still in shock from when I realized it was him.” She shakes her head, letting her voice trail off. You sit in silence for a moment, letting her words marinate in your brain. 
You weren't sure how to respond, for Christ's sake, you barely even knew your own parents. What the hell do you say to someone who killed two of her dads, and then found out the first one is actually alive but trapped in the body of a hostile science experiment? 
Deciding that there was nobody on the planet who could find the words to comfort someone in this situation, you simply grab her hand instead and allow her to rest against you. She knew what your body language meant when words failed you. She always did. 
You sat like that for a while, enjoying each other's company and the quiet. It wasn't often that there was peaceful silence in Zaun, as silence usually meant danger. You both relished the feeling of letting your guard down for the first time in years. 
Eventually, a man… or.. Robot? You weren't sure, steps out of the greenhouse. His body is a mix of purples and blues, looking like a painted night sky, and he is adorned in a cloak similar to those worn by the others on the commune. He approaches the both of you, still sitting on the bench, an aura of confidence and peace to him. His accent is thick when he finally addresses Jinx. 
“I've decided to end our session today. Your father's condition is improving slowly but I can see him growing tired, and I fear pushing him too far may bear consequences.” he nods his head at you in a greeting as he finishes his sentence, before turning and walking away. 
Jinx grumbles a response, something of a ‘thank you’ mixed with some sarcastic remarks, and you think you hear an ‘aluminum psychic’ mixed in there, but before you can think too hard she grabs your hand pulling you towards the greenhouse. 
You stumble slightly, but follow her as she impatiently hops towards the door. Pushing the large door open, she drops your hand and runs inside. You're met with the smell of fresh plants and herbs as you follow her inside, slowly looking around the room and taking everything in as she runs over and wraps her arms around her father, asking how he's feeling. 
His eyes immediately snap to you, a look of distrust and unease in his eyes as he stares you down. Jinx notices, and slowly steps back from her hug. She keeps her eyes on vander as she backs towards you, grabbing your hand before speaking. 
“Vander, this is my girlfriend.” her voice is soft as she begins to slowly walk towards him, hand still locked in yours. 
Fuck, you were not prepared for the whole “meeting the dad” part of all of this. Sure, you've met one of her dads before, but that's because you worked for him, so the stereotypical introduction wasn't necessary at the time. 
Attempting to calm your nerves and make a good impression, you clear your throat and lift your hand as an offering for a handshake. “Hi- um, hello. Nice to meet you, sir. Big fan of your work. Both the daughter and the, uh, other stuff.” your voice shakes as you attempt a joke to try and relieve some of the tension growing in the small greenhouse. 
Your introduction is met with silence, and then more silence, as Vander just stares at you, occasionally glancing between you and Jinx. 
Finally, your girlfriend decides she's seen enough to rescue the situation, stepping between the two of you before breaking the screaming silence. “Well, this has been wonderful. We’ll let you get some rest for now, though.” she grabs your hand again, speedily leading you out of the greenhouse back into the peaceful village of tents. 
Once outside you feel her drop your hand and pause, looking over to see her with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised, amusement causing the corners of her lips to curl up. “Nice one! Real smooth, babe.” she teases. You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek and resting your hands on your hips. “I don't wanna talk about it.”
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Vander glances around at the smiling faces surrounding him. Sat at a small picnic table outside the greenhouse sat his family. His eldest daughter to his right, and the miniature Powder to his left. A feast of fruits, salads, and roasted vegetables covered the table. A dinner cooked by a group of people on the commune. 
Across from him sat grownup Powder and her… girlfriend.
Vander was already struggling to come to terms with the fact that his daughters were now grown. It felt like no time had passed in his mind, but the years had left their mark on the girls nonetheless, and now he has to come to terms with his youngest daughter being out in the world of romance. His little girl, all grown up and dating women he'd never even met before. 
He continues to stare at the two of you, giggling and talking with the others at the table, shoulders occasionally brushing together. His eyes were weary as he watched you two, despite the fact that Powder seems to trust you with everything, nothing changes his distrust and distaste towards seeing his little girl all grown up. 
He continues this internal battle in his mind, struggling with the growing protectiveness only amplified by the traces of the beast still in his mind. Even the tiny powder trying to get him to eat and offering him water couldn't help distract him from the affection being shown from across the table. 
He could tell you knew he didn't trust you, as every time you made eye contact your eyes would dart away, face casting downwards. 
Eventually, the sun sets, and the conversation at the table begins to slow as the food in front of him is quickly destroyed by the hungry teens accompanying him, miniature powder having fallen asleep against his leg not too long after. 
He watches as Powder begins to grow tired next to you, her eyes drooping and shoulders slowly slouching as she tries to keep herself awake. You notice, and gently nudge her before deciding it's time to call it a night. You stand, and pull Powder up from the bench she's sat on. 
“C'mon, sleepyhead,” you grumble as you turn around and lean over. She turns around and throws herself onto your back, her legs going around your waist as you catch her and lift her until she's snuggly pressed into your back, her head leaning into your neck as her eyes close once more. 
His eyes soften as he watches you make your way to his side of the table to pick up the miniature powder from his lap and lift her to your front, one arm wrapped around her keeping her small frame firmly against your chest, the other arm still hooked under one of Powders knees to keep her balanced against your back. 
The act reminds him of when Powder and Vi were young and would fall asleep on the couch or at the barstools while he cleaned up the bar after a long night. The memories caused a pang in his heart, chest contracting at the memories of when they were young, reminding him of all the years he must have missed. 
As you slowly begin to walk away towards the tent Vi directed them to, he speaks up before you're too far away. 
His gravelly and deep voice calls out behind you, “It was nice meeting you too..” you pause in your steps, turning your head to look at the man behind you to confirm you weren't hearing things. Upon seeing your face, he glances down before continuing, “You seem like a good kid, you're, uh, good for Powder.” 
Your face slowly splits into a grin, simply nodding your head at him once, before turning and continuing your trek into the night. 
Meet the future father-in-law: check. 
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A/N: ahhh first one shot let's go! hope you guys enjoy this one :3 luv my girl jinx that's my wife fr
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