#they just want to kill her. they don’t even know she exists until the moment they see her but they want to kill her so badly that they’ll

[quietwingsinthesky]

the thing about me is that i will be obsessed with characters who revolve around each other and will forever and ever even if they don’t know it and who tear each other apart but also are the only reason each other exist

[uraveragelonelysapphic]

Lavender

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Nature had always been your life. How fitting that it could now cause your death.

Warnings: angst (with a happy ending!), mentions of vomiting and blood.

a/n: Hello hello! This is perhaps definitely ass, but I really wanted to write for these two because I'm hopelessly in love with them both. Please enjoy!

Hanahaki Disease 花吐き病 (Japanese) is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings, or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear.

The natural world had always brought you peace. The softness of the grass under your feet, the gentle breeze blowing against your skin, the tender feeling of a flower blooming by your hand. You were a green witch, after all.

That was what had driven your family away. You had been 12 when you first sprouted a lily from your hand. You were more curious than scared; you had always sensed there was something that separated you from the rest of your family. Something about the earth’s treasures had always called to you. 

But even at your young age, you knew who you were living with. Sharing your abilities was a recipe for disaster; a sure fire way to have you outcast from your family.

So you did your best to keep your powers a secret, honing them in private, away from the watchful eye of your parents.

When you were 20, the inevitable happened. You were meant to be collecting berries for dinner when you had spotted a Willow Tree. It was worse for wear; you could feel it pleading for help as you approached it with a soft smile.

“It’s alright,” you soothed the tree as you gently placed your palms against the soil where its roots rested, “You’ll be alright.”

You closed your eyes, focusing on strengthening the roots as green magic pulsed out from your hands, through the soil, and into the tree itself, which began to heal instantly.

The snapping of a twig broke you out from your trance, turning your head to see your mother fleeing the scene. Your heart dropped as you quickly stood, moving to follow her.

She was too fast. By the time you had returned to your cabin, everyone and everything was gone. Your entire family had left you.

You fell to your knees in the middle of what was once your home, tears rolling down your face as you stared at the ground. Numb, broken, grieving.

You don’t know how long you stayed in that spot. You didn’t eat, you didn’t sleep, you just sat, staring, longing.

It wasn’t until a cold hand lifted your chin that you realized you weren’t alone anymore.

“Hello, darling,” a voice said softly, and you locked eyes with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. Her brown eyes were intoxicating, drawing you in. You tilted your head at her in confusion and intrigue. Who was she? What was she doing here?

“You’ve been sat here for a week, darling. No food, no water, no sleep. You’ll kill yourself if you keep up like this,” she said as she looked at you curiously.

Your eyes widened in realization. Death. 

She shook her head at you gently, sensing your fear. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not taking you. It’s not your time,” she said, stroking your hair gently. 

“Thank you, Lady Death,” you stuttered out, in awe of her soft nature, directly contrasting the connotation of her very existence.

She smiled at you in response. “You can call me Rio, sweet girl.” 

There was a moment where you two merely looked at one another before she looked away, taking on a rather stern expression. “But I feel the need to tell you, sitting here and mourning your abandonment will only hurt you. It’s not your time. So don’t let it be. Get up, you’re coming with me.”

You stumble away from her in confusion. “I thought you weren’t taking me?”

She shook her head. “I’m not taking you to the afterlife. I am, however, taking you in. You’ll be staying with Agatha and I.”

You knew that name. You had read about it during your private studies.

“Agatha? Like…’The Witch Killer’ Agatha? That Agatha?” you asked cautiously.

Rio cackled, extending her hand to you.

You took it.

And so began the years you spent with Death and her lover, Agatha Harkness. The two women were vastly different to their reputations that had preceded them. Sure, they both had a fierceness to them. They had to, in order to survive their daily lives filled with corpses and taking souls.

But, with each other, they held such a softness. Rio often came back from a long day exhausted and drained. Death didn’t tend to be a fan favorite, and people made it evident, shouting at her and berating her as she escorted the souls of their loved ones to the afterlife. But Agatha greeted her at the door each evening with a hug, simply holding her for minutes on end, whispering sweet nothings in her ear as Rio visibly relaxed into her hold.

And Rio returned the favor, treating Agatha with a love full of tenderness and warmth. Comforting her after each nightmare, preventing her from overworking herself, giving her soft apology kisses after any arguments.

Before long, you knew almost everything about the pair. You learned about Agatha and her son, and his loss which nearly tore Agatha and Rio apart. How Agatha was only a ‘Witch Killer’ to keep Nicky alive as long as she could. How Rio held such anguish and guilt at having to take Nicky’s soul. How Agatha once held it against her but now loved her as fiercely as ever.

The two were made for each other, and though they welcomed you with a similar softness to that which they showed each other, you chalked it up to them taking pity on a girl who was abandoned by her family. You knew they could never love you like they loved each other.

But that didn’t stop you from falling for them. It happened subconsciously; you never meant for it to happen. But when your heart panged in longing at seeing Agatha and Rio curled up in each other’s arms in the living room, you knew it had happened. It panged even further as you looked down, noticing a red carnation that had bloomed in your palm against your will.

You were determined to ignore it. Surely you could enjoy their presence without focusing on the way your stomach flipped when Rio smiled at you, or how your heart seemed to triple in size whenever Agatha would stroke your hair in affectionate greeting. But what you had to do became evident one morning.

“We’re headed out for a bit, doll,” Agatha said as you sat at the table eating the breakfast she had made for you.

You nodded. “Okay! Don’t stay out too late, I’m making your favorite for dinner, Ags.”

She beamed at you, making butterflies flare up in your stomach so violently they made you uneasy. “You’re a gem. Isn’t she just?” She turned to Rio, squeezing her hand gently.

“Oh, yeah, she’s the sweetest,” Rio replied, winking at you as you feel your heart beat faster.

The two bid you a final farewell before leaving for the day. As soon as they left, you began to feel an uncomfortable itch in your throat. You furrowed your brows, attempting to clear your throat to ease the discomfort, but to no avail. Eventually you began coughing. It was a cough that made you feel sick, made you feel like something was really wrong.

And when you coughed into your palm and saw the petals of daffodils, your suspicions were confirmed.

You had heard of Hanahaki disease but had always believed it to be a myth. Your heart dropped at the realization that your love for these women was going to kill you.

You had to leave.

So you did. You packed up that day and left, traveling solo for centuries as you studied the disease you suffered from. 

Luckily, it impacted witches differently than humans. As your lifespan tended to be a lot longer, the disease was longer lasting; escalating at a slower pace before killing you altogether.

For the first hundred years, it had mostly been a consistent burning in your throat and coughing up various flower petals. Miserable, but bearable nonetheless.

After those hundred years, it began to escalate at a quicker pace as the flowers bloomed quicker and sharper. After 200 years of this disease, you were weaker than ever before. Coughing constantly, a never ending sensation of your insides burning, vomiting flower petals and blood.

Yes, there was the option of surgery, but you couldn’t bring yourself to allow that option to become a reality. You didn’t want to forget the love you held for Rio and Agatha. They had shown you kindness and softness like none other. You would die before you let yourself remove the memory of them from your very soul.

And you were getting close. You knew your time was running out.

And so, after another long day of slowly dying, you stared up at the sky, longing for your loves, even though you knew it could never be.

It was then that you felt yourself being sucked into the ground beneath you, and you let out a yelp at the shock.

Before you knew it, you were clawing your way out of the ground, now in a completely unfamiliar place. You were on a path in a strange, dystopian-looking forest. You could feel the magic buzzing around you as you pulled yourself up from the ground.

“Who is that?”

“I thought we already got a green witch?”

You heard a gasp and looked up to meet a pair of blue eyes you had longed for night after night for the past 200 years.

“Agatha,” you said quietly, tears welling in your eyes before you could stop them.

A familiar voice said your name and you shuddered at the sound.

“Rio.”

The two women stared at you and you stared back, unsure of what to say.

“So, are you gonna introduce us to the new girl, or…” a witch in a pink dress asked and you broke your intense stare-down to introduce yourself by name to the coven of witches. 

“I’m a green witch,” you explained.

“We’ve already got one,” a teenage boy said, pointing at Rio awkwardly.

You knew well and good that Rio wasn’t here as a green witch, she was here on work business, but you didn’t want to blow what seemed to be a cover, and you also didn’t have a damn clue where you were, so you played along.

“Well, you know summoning spells, you never know how many you’re gonna get…” you tried cautiously, still feeling the gaze of your former housemates burning into the side of your head.

“Y/N, a word?” Agatha finally asked, and you gulp before nodding and following her and Rio to a secluded part of the forest.

“Hey guys…what’s up?” you asked with an awkward smile, trying to ease the tension.

Rio narrowed her eyes at you, crossing her arms. “What’s up is that you up and left 200 years ago without so much as a word to either of us. Care to explain?”

You tried to look to Agatha for support, but she wouldn’t meet your eyes. Your stomach turned at the thought that you had upset these women you loved so deeply.

You took a deep breath, staring at the ground. “I had some business to attend to. I didn’t want either of you to get wrapped up in it.”

“Was your business ‘killing yourself?’ You look rough,” Rio said, a teasing smirk hiding her worry.

“Thanks,” you rolled your eyes, some tension releasing from your shoulders at the knowledge that Rio wasn’t angry enough to ignore you.

“You left without so much as saying goodbye,” Agatha said quietly. She sounded so hurt, and you couldn’t believe you had brought this on the pair, but you knew they deserved to love each other in peace, not be burdened at being the cause of your death.

“Ags, I’m really sorry, I should’ve said goodbye, I just-“ you were cut off as a violent coughing fit shook you, causing both women to raise their eyebrows at you.

You turned away from them as you coughed a plumeria flower out of your throat. You quickly slipped the flower into your pocket and wiped a bit of blood from the corner of your mouth before turning to face the two witches again.

The eyes on you were soft and concerned, but you shook your head at them, shutting down their questions before they even asked. “I’m fine, just a cough.”

Rio opened her mouth to protest when a witch sporting orange streaks in her hair interrupted.

“I’m sorry to get in the middle of whatever this reunion is, but I think it’s time for our next trial.”

You furrowed your brows. “Trial?” You began to realize that you had no idea where you actually were.

“Duh, we are on the Witches Road, after all!” The teenage boy exclaimed, leaving you even more confused.

The road isn’t real. You knew all about the song that Agatha had used to lure her victims in. 

“Wait, but-“ you stopped yourself from questioning any further when you saw Rio subtly shake her head at you, a silent plea to not reveal the truth of the road to the group.

You nodded in understanding, deciding to save your questions for later. “Alright, where’s the next trial?”

You looked up to see the group staring at something behind you. Agatha and Rio were particularly fascinated by it.

You turned around and your stomach dropped. You saw a cottage. It’s covered in vines and moss, making it appear worn down. But you thought it was beautiful. Perhaps that’s because it was yours. And Agatha’s. and Rio’s.

You looked at the path leading to the cottage. It was covered in flowers. You took a deep breath.

You just got here and already you were being given a trial.

As you and the rest of the coven approached the cottage, you couldn’t help but turn to the women you desire the most for comfort. 

Rio had an arm wrapped around Agatha’s waist, her thumb gently stroking the witch’s hip bone. Agatha looked up at her, smiling in gratitude, and Rio pressed a soft kiss to Agatha’s forehead.

Your stomach churned at the sight, and you felt bile rising in your throat. You painfully swallowed it back down, cringing at the effect it had on your throat, already raw from the thorns slowly tearing it to shreds.

“You good?” The witch in the pink dress asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s just get this over with.”

The inside of the cottage looked just like you thought it would.

Home.

The same furniture, same pillows and blankets, same decor on the walls.

Your eyes filled with tears as you remembered all the time you had spent here with the women you loved more than anything.

“Doll,” a gentle voice said, and you turned to see Agatha looking at you softly. She approached you slowly, holding a hand out for you, but you took a step back.

“I’m fine,” you said, brushing your face and continuing to move through the house.

“This is new,” you heard Rio’s voice from the room resembling your bedroom. 

You entered and were greeted with a tapestry on your wall. It showed 5 flowers. Below the woven flowers was a message:

The words she never spoke will slowly begin to choke. For if they never cared, a life cannot be spared.

“It’s my life,” you breathed out, staring in horror at the plants on the tapestry.

Rio nodded, running her fingers along the tapestry as she identified the plants.

“Lily. Rebirth,” she began.

“The birth of your powers, the birth of you as a witch,” Agatha identified.

“Willow Tree. Loss.”

“The loss of your kin. Being abandoned by those you called family,” Agatha continued.

“Red Carnations. Deep, affectionate love.”

Agatha went silent at this, her brows furrowing.

“Daffodil. Unrequited love.”

Rio and Agatha were visibly shaken by this point. What hadn’t you told them? You were in love? With who?

Rio snapped her head to look at you upon seeing the last flower.

“Plumeria,” she said grimly.

Agatha’s eyes were wide. “What does that mean?” 

Rio only continued to look at you.

“Rio, what does that mean???”

Her question was answered as you began to cough violently again, the sheer force of it bringing you to your knees.

Agatha rushed over to you in a panic. She looked at the rest of the coven in terror. “What’s happening to her?” she cried as you began to choke.

“The words she never spoke will slowly begin to choke,” the teenager said.

“Hanahaki disease,” the witch in pink breathed out.

“What the hell is that?” Agatha was crying now, watching as petals and thorns made their way out of your mouth covered in blood.

“A disease that affects someone facing unrequited love,” Rio said in realization.

As she put the pieces together she knelt in front of you in an instant, anger coursing through her.

“You left because of this,” she said, her voice low, “You thought we didn’t love you, so you left?” she asked incredulously.

“Didn’t want—you to—-see me die,” you gasped out, fighting for air as you began to cough up more and more blood.

“You’re not dying, Y/N. I won’t take you,” Rio choked out, her sorrow getting the best of her. 

“Better this way,” you managed, and Agatha choked out a sob.

“It’s not, doll, we love you, we love you,” she cried helplessly.

The whole coven stood in shock. The two women they feared the most were in the most pain they had seen since they began to walk the road.

Both women hold you tight, desperately trying to convince you of their love.

Rio grabbed your face to look at her. “There’s a reason I took you in that day, mi vida,” she whispered as tears fell down her face, “I felt pulled to you. I knew you would be special to me. Aggie and I love you so much, please believe me.”

She leaned in and pressed her lips to yours, ignoring the blood and petals and thorns and focusing on you. Just you.

When she pulled away you gasped, finally able to gather air into your lungs.

Relief was visible throughout the entire coven. They had only just met you, but seeing how your existence being threatened had brought absolute devastation to two of the most intimidating women on earth had shaken them.

As you began to breathe again, you sagged against Agatha.

“You’re okay, doll, you’re okay now,” she assured you as she gently ran a hand through your hair.

The door to the cottage slammed open, and the rest of the coven took it as their cue to leave, giving you three a moment to recover.

As you laid against Agatha, you looked at Rio with tired eyes. “Sorry for getting blood on you,” you rasped, causing the woman to roll her eyes at you.

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?” She scolded before taking both of your hands in hers. “I. Love. You.”

Tears filled your eyes at her earnest confession. “I’m so sorry I ran,” you began, your body shaking, “I saw the love you had for each other, and how much you had healed each other, and I couldn’t hurt that. I didn’t want you to see me die. It wouldn’t have been your fault,” you said brokenly.

Agatha shushed you, kissing the top of your head. “You shouldn’t have run. It would’ve saved us all 200 years of agony,” she said, and you hang your head in guilt.

But then you felt a cold hand lifting your chin. And suddenly you were 20 years old again, looking into the eyes of Lady Death herself. 

But this time, instead of looking at you with curiosity, she looked at you with something much stronger. She looked at you with love.

“But we’ve got you back now,” she said, smiling tearfully at you, “so we’re taking you in. Is that okay?”

Your body wracked with sobs as you nodded, and both women were holding you in an instant. Your back was against Agatha’s front as her arms wrapped around your waist. Rio straddled you, her arms wrapping around your neck as she pulled you close.

And out of the cracked wooden floor of that cottage, something bloomed.

Lavender. Healing. Love.

[lynnieverse]

like real people do // drew starkey

oneshot

drew stakery x popstar!reader

synopsis: after a little slip up in an interview where you accidentally reveal your celebrity crush, things get a little complicated when someone starts meddling.

4.2k words

highly requested part two here!

You knew doing the interview was going to bite you in the ass. Nothing good ever came from distracting you with puppies and asking personal questions. So, when the interviewer innocently asked your celebrity crush, you didn’t hesitate to say Drew Starkey. It didn’t hit you until afterward, sitting in the back of your car, debriefing with your assistant. 

“I can’t believe you said your celebrity crush though,” she said, eyebrows raised. Your heart stutters a bit and you quickly whip your head towards her. 

“No I didn’t.” 

“Um…yeah, you did.” Panic spiked through your veins, sweat beading on your brow. 

“Oh shit. Oh shit! Amara, tell me I didn’t say who I’m thinking of,” you grip her arm tightly, eyes pleading. Amara winces and looks at you with what could only be pity. “No!” 

Madelyn was going to kill you. 

You met Madelyn Cline a few months ago at the People’s Choice Awards when you were presenting. You’d instantly clicked and made plans to hang out the next week. Everything was going really great, and you were doing a good job at keeping your little crush a secret. Now, it’ll come out, be circulated everywhere online, and Madelyn’s going to think you’re some crazy stalker. How would she react to you having a crush on her co-star? Definitely not well. 

Amara places a comforting hand on your shoulder, smiling sympathetically. “It’s okay, Y/N, it’s just a silly interview. Nobody will take it seriously.” 

“Everyone will take it seriously! I don’t know why I started fraternizing with actors, I need to stick to my lane.” 

“Hey, why don’t you write a song about it? It might help.” You thought about it for a moment, feeling the familiar bubble of lyrics tickling the back of your mind. Writing always helps you calm down, maybe putting the feelings on paper would make them go away. 

As the car stopped in front of your hotel, flashes from the paparazzi’s cameras were bright even through the tinted windows. You sigh and grab a jacket, wrapping it around your head like a shield, and wait for security to open the door. You ignore the loud shouting as you dash inside, closely followed by Amara and the rest of the crew. Inside isn’t much better, but at least the other guests have the decency to leave you alone for now. 

You sometimes feel bad, often making it up later by signing a bunch of autographs outside, but right now you’re exhausted and embarrassed. The interview threw off your whole day, and you just want to lay in bed and watch trashy reality television. 

Your security escorts you to the elevator, and then does a sweep of your room before eventually leaving. Finally alone, you put on your rattiest and comfiest pajamas, take off all your makeup, and throw your hair up before jumping in bed. You reach for the remote to start your aforementioned binge, but hesitate over the little purple notebook you carry everywhere. Sighing, you know you won’t be able to relax without getting it all out. You dig through your bag and find a glittery pink pen, uncapping it with your teeth and getting to work. 

You’ve never met Drew, not once, but something about him just had you giggling like a schoolgirl. Witnessing his kindness through your constant internet stalking quickly proved to be a bad idea, because now you have a big fat crush on the man and he doesn’t even know you exist. 

Well that’s not true. Everyone knows you exist, but he would never think of you that way. Dating as a popular musician was not as easy as one might think, it’s often too much for people. The words start flowing with ease, filling up the cream pages in no time. 

Gleaming

Twinkling

Eyes like sinking ships

On waters so inviting

I almost jump in

His eyes really are beautiful. So blue, so warm. But the feelings you have aren’t logical, and they’re so exhausting. 

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

He’s the internet's boyfriend right now, edits flying around like crazy. You know dozens of people back home who are definitely salivating over this man. Something about him…you can’t put your finger on it. 

What must it be like

To grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominos

Every silly thought you’d ever had poured out onto the page. By the time you were finished you knew it was a hit. Grabbing your guitar you make a split second decision to tease your fans a bit. Unlocking your phone, you quickly open Instagram and go live before you can stop yourself. Your face pops up on the screen, thousands of people already in and commenting. 

“Hey guys! I just finished a new song and wanted to play a little for you if that’s alright?” You smirk, knowing the answer already. Of course, everyone starts freaking out and flooding the comments with different affirmations and emojis. You laugh, loving every second of it, before strumming the beginning chords on your guitar. 

As you start singing you let your eyes close, feeling each note in your soul, pressing every callus on your worn fingertips. The pacing is a little rough, still getting the hang of the new melody, but you know as soon as you finish that you killed it. So many fans are expressing their love for the song, already asking for it to be out on streaming platforms. Others are curious as to who your muse is, throwing out the wildest guesses you’d ever seen. 

“Chace Crawford?!” you exclaim, face contorted in surprise. “Y’all have a distorted sense of my ability to pull these men,” you laugh in disbelief. Your heart skips a beat when a couple comments actually guess correctly, but don’t react, knowing every single microexpression is analyzed. 

“Alright guys, I think I’m going to eat myself into a sugar coma while watching Love Island, but thank you for listening! I’m glad you enjoyed the song,” you wink to the camera before waving and closing the app. Covering your face with your hands, you fall backwards on the bed, letting your guitar rest beside you. You don’t even want to check social media, already knowing screen recordings of the live will be everywhere. 

Sometimes it’s crazy to think this many people care about your day to day life. The art you create touches lives across the globe. It’s both amazing and terrifying at the same time. 

Not wanting to start an existential crisis on a random Tuesday night, you quickly turn on your show and cuddle up under the duvet. 

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

By the weekend the interview was everywhere. You’ve stayed out of it, going pretty much radio silent in response. Many are asking if you’re secretly dating, if you were going to write a song for the new season of Outer Banks, if Drew felt the same way…it’s insane. 

You’d purposely put off talking to Madelyn out of sheer embarrassment. That man was like her brother and you admitted to liking him. Still, it’s time to address the issue head on, so you dial her number shakily. The phone rings three times before she answers, a sweet greeting sounding through the speakers. 

“Y/N?” You clear your throat, reluctant to speak. 

“Hey…” You wince at how rough your voice sounds, facepalming at your own awkwardness. 

“What’s up, girl?” Madelyn sounds normal, but you know she has to be weirded out by you. 

“Um, nothing much, just wanted to talk to you about something I may have said recently.” 

“Is this about the puppy interview?” 

“Yes?” Your voice comes out squeaky, nose scrunched. But Madelyn just starts laughing. You stare at your phone in confusion. What the hell?

“I can’t believe you finally admitted it, and during an interview? That was ballsy as hell!” You slowly start to regain your breath, brain processing her words. 

“You’re not mad?” 

“Why would I be mad?” she snorts.

“I didn’t want you to think I was using you to get to him.”

“Are you?” 

“No! Of course not!” 

“Okay then, there’s no problem.” A breath of relief escapes, and you put a hand on your chest. She’s not mad. 

“Thank you so much for understanding, I really love our friendship.” 

“Me too,” Mads says sincerely. “Now we just have to figure out how to get you two together!” 

Your eyes widen. “What? Absolutely not. This was not an invitation for you to play matchmaker, Mads.”

“Aw man, why not? I could literally get you both in the same room tonight.” Your heart starts beating out of your chest, feeling more anxiety talking about this than being on any stage.

“He’s probably seen the interview by now, it’s so embarrassing!” 

“It’s not embarrassing, Y/N. You’re attracted to the man, it’s not that crazy of a concept! Just give me a chance, please?” 

“Nope. I don’t want to bother him or weird him out. Let’s just do something me and you; are you in L.A.?” 

“Ugh, fine. Yes I’m here, just come over whenever.” You can feel her annoyance across the line, but ignore it. You’re not going to let her meddle. 

“See you then!” Mads ends the call, sending you back into your shame spiral. Every little thing you do is always picked apart and ridiculed in the media, and you’re usually a lot more careful with what you say. The interview slip up is going to keep you up at night for the rest of your life. 

Hours pass waiting for the appropriate time to head over to Madelyn’s house. You decide to dress comfortably, but have your makeup done on the off chance pictures are taken. The drive over is quiet, save for the initial crowd outside your house. How it’s legal for celebrities' addresses to be available on the internet, is something you’ll never understand. 

When you pull up you notice a Jeep in her driveway and shake your head. That girl is always spending money. Your phone pings with yet another Twitter update and you roll your eyes. How can this be the most popular thing in the world right now? You glance at the notification and see it’s Drew’s name that’s trending. Huh. Interesting. 

You decide to follow your instincts and ignore it, wanting to focus on girls night with Mads. As you approach the porch you find yourself nervous; even though she wasn’t mad, you still feel bad for causing such an uproar around her co-star. 

Three knocks later you're waiting outside her front door in anticipation. You find yourself shifting from foot to foot, tracing the cracks in the stonework with your eyes. When the door opens you look up with a smile, expecting Madelyn’s smiling face, only to be met with the very man that had haunted you the past week. You gasp, words catching in your throat as you stare. 

Drew was wearing a black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his hair looked freshly cut into a soft mullet, and he looked just as surprised as you do. You can’t seem to close your gaping mouth, a pained sound escaping without realizing. 

“Uh, hi,” Drew says sheepishly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Eyes wide, you turn on your heel and speed walk away, leaving him alone in the doorway. You’re fumbling with your keys, cursing under your breath, when you hear a shout from behind you. 

“Y/N!” 

You almost make it inside your car when an iron grip latches onto your upper arm, yanking you back. 

“Hey!” you protest, almost losing your balance as you’re dragged back to Mads’ house. 

“Oh no you don’t, you’re not getting away that easily.” 

“Madelyn Renee Cline, let me go!” You struggle against her grip, but only cause her nails to dig in deeper. 

“You’re not leaving, Y/N, I won’t let you.” She finally stops when you’re once again at the door, but she doesn’t let go. Drew must’ve gone back inside, thank God, but Madelyn is glaring at you. 

“Don’t look at me like that! How could you do this to me?” You give her your most withering look. She rolls her eyes at you, only pissing you off more. 

“Just talk to him. I promise he doesn’t think you’re weird, or whatever you’ve concocted.”

“Well he might now!” 

“That’s your own fault, I can’t believe you ran away,” she snickers, pulling you inside and closing the door. When she finally lets go of your arm, you rub the crescent indentions with a wince. The girl has some nails. 

“Fine. Let’s go.” Mads looks taken aback, freezing in place. 

“Really?!” You give her a pointed look. “Right, be cool. Okay come on follow me, he went back to the living room.” Reluctantly, you do just that, trailing closely behind her. You’re a ball of nerves, and can already feel your stomach twisting to knots. 

Madelyn was right, he was lounging on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling on his phone. When he hears you two approach, his head shoots up and his back immediately straightens.

“Everything okay?” he asks, voice smooth and melodic. Your cheeks warm, and you avoid eye contact as much as possible. 

“Um, yeah. I just–you know.” You jab your thumb back awkwardly, not even you know what you’re trying to say. But Drew cracks a smile, looking at you fondly and nodding along, as if you make perfect sense. 

Madelyn’s eyes flit between you with a wide smile on her face. Not knowing what else to do, you sit down on the couch, as far away from him as possible, and stare straight ahead. Silence ensues, and you have absolutely no idea what to do in this situation. Thankfully, Madelyn breaks the silence. 

“So…want to watch a movie?” 

“Yes!” You and Drew speak at the same time, causing you to stare at each other shyly. Madelyn smirks and comes around the couch, forcefully sitting between you and the arm rest. You shoot her a what the fuck look and she simply shrugs. 

“I like the armrest! Scooch.” Begrudgingly, you inch closer to Drew, who pretends not to notice the entire exchange. As soon as you're settled you sit pin straight, not wanting to breach the confines of your cushion. Drew’s left ankle is resting comfortably on his knee, arm thrown over the side of the couch in what seems to be a very relaxing position. Mads rolls her eyes and pulls out an ottoman, giving you something to stretch your feet out on so you can lean back. 

It takes forever to pick a movie, suspiciously so, but it’s Madelyn’s house and you’re not going to say anything. Once she finally picks Avatar, she dims the lights from her phone and the three of you settle in for what’s going to be a weird couple hours. 

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Everything was going fine, until suddenly Madelyn got tired at nine and decided to go to bed…leaving you and Drew alone. You mentally cursed your friend for putting you in this position, obviously not listening to the blanket “no matchmaking” statement from before. 

You glance at him from the corner of your eye and find him already looking at you. He quickly looked away and started tapping his fingers on his knee nervously. The movie had long since been forgotten and no words had been exchanged. 

“So…” you manage, turning to face him slowly. He smiles at you, running a hand through his hair and making his bicep flex. Your stomach does a little flip flop and your face reddens at where your mind went. Drew smirks like he knows exactly what just happened, but doesn’t comment. 

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” His voice, oh my God. “I’m Drew, it’s nice to meet you.” He holds out his hand to shake, and you clumsily take it, feeling the warmth envelop your palm immediately. 

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you too,” you smile, swallowing the anxiety. 

“I’m a fan of your work, actually, you’re really good.” 

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. “You listen to my songs?” Drew laughs and shakes his head, shooting you a look you don’t quite understand. 

“Are you being serious?” he leans forward a bit, surprise evident on his face. You scrunch your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re easily the most popular musician of our generation and you don’t think I listen to your music?” You find yourself blushing, and a little flustered. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say the most popular…I have quite a few fans, sure, but not everyone vibes with all types of music. I don’t really know what you listen to, and I didn't want to assume anything.” Drew looks you up and down, seeming to size you up. 

“You’re not at all what I expected, Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“And what did you expect, Drew Starkey?” 

“Well, I don’t know to be honest, but you’re surprisingly humble for someone as successful as you.” You had actually gotten that a lot, although you didn’t think it was being humble so much as being a decent person. You’re still just the girl who grew up in a perfectly normal town, with normal loving parents and a wonderful home. Just because you make popular music doesn’t mean you’ve changed at all. Plus, you know it could all go away with the snap of your fingers. 

“I don’t know what to say, I’m just like everyone else,” you shrug. 

“I beg to differ. You’re…extraordinary. You have to know that?” There goes that damn stomach flip again. 

“Thank you,” you look down at your lap. “I could say the same for you. I love your projects.” His eyes light up at the mention of his work, making you smile in turn. 

“Thank you! I love everything I’ve been a part of, especially OBX. I met my second family on that set, you know?” You didn’t know, actually. Being on the road all the time meant limited options for friendships, and no time for the ones you did manage to keep. Mads is the first girlfriend other than Amara–who you employ–you’ve had in years. 

“Yeah, I love Mads already. I can’t imagine how fun it must be getting to work with your best friends every day…” your voice trails off. Drew seems to notice your shift in mood and decides to change the subject. 

“Hey, why don’t you play me something?” 

You immediately freeze. “What?” Drew smiles and stands up, searching for something. He disappears in the hallway before emerging a minute later with a beautiful acoustic guitar in his hands. You immediately feel a pull to grab it and start playing, but are still confused. 

“Here,” he hands it to you. “I want you to play me something…something nobody has heard yet.” You immediately start racking your brain and decide to take a leap and play something that could get you in trouble. 

“Um…okay. This is something I was actually working on today. It’s not finished but I can play a little.” You nervously pick up the guitar, but immediately relax when you feel the rough strings beneath your fingers. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and try to forget the gorgeous man in front of you. 

In the middle of the night, when I'm in this dream

It's like a million little stars spelling out your name

You gotta come on, come on

Say that we'll be together

Come on, come on

Little taste of heaven

You manage to take a peek at him while you strum, catching him totally entranced by the sound of your voice. A little confidence boost flows through you as you continue the song. 

But you're untouchable, burning brighter than the sun

And now that you're close I feel like coming undone

In the middle of the night, we can form this dream

I wanna feel you by my side, standing next to me

You gotta come on, come on

Say that we'll be together

Come on, come on

Little taste of heaven

You strum a few more chords before stopping, silently waiting for his reaction. He’s staring at you, mouth parted slightly. 

“Another,” he whispers. Surprised, you do what he asks, pulling another unfinished song from the vault in your mind. This one wasn’t about him, not like the last one, but it still applies. 

I will not ask you where you came from

I will not ask you, neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips

We should just kiss like real people do

You hum for a little longer, this song actually being one of your favorites. Drew is starstruck, an unknown look on his face the whole time. He seems to snap out of it and clears his throat. 

“Wow, Y/N. You’re amazing…those were amazing. Were they about anyone in particular?” You internally panic, because duh. But you don’t want to weird him out. 

“Um, the first one was,” you whisper, avoiding eye contact. You feel the couch move, and look up to find Drew right beside you. His leg was flush with yours, and he was so close you could see each and every freckle splashed across his cheeks. You also notice his eyes crinkle at the corners slightly when he smiles. 

“Can I confess something?” he says softly. You don’t trust your voice, so you nod once. “I saw your interview.” Immediately, the embarrassment causes your face to turn into a tomato. 

“Uh–about that…I–” You don’t really have an explanation, but you scramble for one anyway. Drew chuckles and grabs your hand, effectively stopping your rambling and making you redder at the same time. 

“Y/N you don’t have to be embarrassed. Did you see my interview?” What interview?

“No? I didn’t know you did one. Should I have?” He squeezes your hand gently and his eyes bore into yours. 

“It would’ve made this a lot easier,” he jokes. “They asked for my response to being your celebrity crush.” Fuck. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause drama for you.” 

“You didn’t, I promise. But do you know what my response was?” You shake your head. He hesitates for a moment before grinning, almost shy. “I said that’s a crazy coincidence because you’re my celebrity crush.” Hold the fucking phone, did he just say what you think he said?

“What?” 

“I think you’re beautiful, talented, kind, and I’ve always wanted to spend time with you. I didn’t think it was even in my realm of possibilities. Then you befriended Mads, and I thought maybe I had a chance…” Your brain must be short circuiting, because no way in hell Drew Starkey just said the feelings are mutual.

“Oh,” is all you can manage.

“Oh? That’s it?” he smiles, intertwining your fingers. 

“I’m honestly so surprised right now, I don’t know what to say.” 

“Say you don’t think I’m a weirdo.”

“I don’t think you’re a weirdo,” you shake your head. 

“Say you’ll go out with me?” his pitch rises with uncertainty, looking nervous for your response. 

“I will definitely go out with you.” Relief floods his features and he tugs you closer, pulling your legs on top of his. 

“That was terrifying,” he says, massaging your calf. 

“I still cannot believe this is happening right now,” you tell him honestly. 

He smirks, leaning in close. “Believe it, baby.” Your heart skips a beat, mind going blank momentarily. 

“I think I owe Mads a thank you,” you giggle. 

“Fuck that, I’m sending her a damn gift basket.” 

“You’re so right, she’s getting an album dedication from me,” you joke, causing Drew to poke you in the ribs. 

“Hey, no fair. She’s going to like that so much more!” he whines. You can already see yourself falling head over heels in love with this man, and that scares you more than anything. 

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” you hold your hands up in defense while Drew rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, let’s just watch another movie.” 

“Sounds like a plan!” you hear from behind the couch. The two of you immediately jump, scared out of your minds, until you realize it’s just Madelyn creeping in the hallway. 

“What the fuck?!” Drew yells, clutching his heart dramatically. 

“You were supposed to be asleep!” You cross your arms, glaring at your blonde counterpart. She sucks her teeth and shrugs, walking over and plopping down on the couch.

“What can I say, somebody had to get you two together.” You share a look with Drew, both of you simultaneously not surprised, but exasperated by her little games. 

“You’re insane,” Drew tells her, taking his spot back on the couch and throwing a pillow at her head.

“It worked didn’t it?” 

Yeah. You thought. It really did. 

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon: interlude - a tango in barcelona | formula one imagine

interlude: a tango in barcelona

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

dancing around her teammate on and off track, y/n looks to boogie her troubles away.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

may 2020, spain.

life at mclaren hadn’t started the way y/n had hoped. the days were long and surprisingly quiet, the latter mostly due to her teammate and his aversion to acknowledging her existence. she was tired already this weekend and they hadn’t even raced yet.

the barcelona heat was making her race suit stick to her already just walking to the grid for the national anthem. “it’s hot as balls” y/n whined as she slipped between max and george while the choir set up ahead of them.

“oh my sweet summer child, we haven’t even gotten to singapore yet,” max said taking off his ice vest and fastening it to y/n.

“ugh don’t remind me,” y/n wiped more sweat off of her brow, “i think singapore might kill me.”

george laughed, moving his umbrella to the left so it covered y/n as well, “singapore is a baptism by fire, but you’ve done well so far this season so i don’t think you’ll have too hard a time.”

y/n smiled up at the taller brit, “thanks georgie, maybe if you’re such an expert in singapore you’ll be able to catch me.” she punctuated it with a wink, george nearly dropping the umbrella in response.

“do you mind? you nearly took my eye out with this thing!” max hissed at george, flicking the umbrella. george lifted the umbrella to get it out of eye range of the dutchman, who in turn saw it as an invitation to seek refuge in the shade.

“no way verstappen, this umbrella is for pretty people only,” george grabbed y/n’s hand and moved them a couple steps away.

“if that was so, only y/n would be allowed under it beanstalk.”

“if my height is the only thing you can think to insult me about, i can live.”

“oh believe me there’s a lot more stored up, i just wouldn’t want to give you any inspiration for when you take out a backmarker and blame everyone but yourself.”

y/n sighed dramatically, “already? i thought you two were going to cool it down this season. i don’t even understand how you have a rivalry, you’re nowhere near him on track george…” george let out a scandalised squeal, “oh my bad george, you know what i meant.”

“i think what y/n means is that she doesn’t rate you ‘mr saturday’”.

as george went to bite back but the loud horns of the national anthem cut their quarrel off early. y/n fought to keep her laugh in throughout the national anthem, seeing george seething in her peripheral vision. he was so easy to rattle it was practically a pastime of half the grid at this point.

before george could get a dig back in, y/n and max were back in deep conversation, discussing their approach to turn two with just minutes until the formation lap. he yearned to be the one that y/n spilled her tips, tricks and secrets to but like most of his life, the dutchman had beaten him to that honour. now he knew how lando felt.

lando, george and alex had bonded long before 2018, but their three-way title fight in formula two brought them closer rather than forcing them apart. george cherished that friendship, he found it invaluable to have two of his closest friends with him as they entered the cutthroat world of formula one - he just wished he could’ve been that person for y/n.

lando didn’t often articulate it well, but george understood his curly-haired friend’s struggles. lando had gushed all off season about having y/n as his teammate, chatting animatedly about potential roadtrips, shared flights and sleepovers before it was all snuffed out in a moment. george always suspected that lando felt more about their friend than he let on (or thought he let on). once he had thought it was a victim of circumstance, teenage boys discovering what these new hormones were doing to their body did tend to fixate on the one girl in their midst. but as they grew up, that puppy love crush didn’t seem to wain, not that anyone else around them seemed to notice.

a single comment from one max verstappen crushed that. a late night discord call between the rookie trio and max had naturally seen the topic of y/n arise. lando, as usual, started to wax lyrical about the season ahead, with his vision for their teammate relationship constructed in his head.

“mate, we’ve already started.”

“huh?” lando’s voice stuttered over the call, he cleared his throat, “what do you mean?”

“y/n and i,” max continued, “we’ve already started doing sim runs together, watching onboards and all that jazz.” the dutchman said it so casually, unaware of lando’s imminent heartbreak - george’s too, he just hid it better.

“but why? i’m going to be her teammate, not you? why would she even use your sim, she’s racing for mclaren next year not red bull.”

not noticing the path they were hurtling down, max dug his foot in, “no offence lando, but if y/n wants my tips, i’m going to give it to her. it’s noble for you to want to look out for her, but realistically what tips could you give her that are better than mine… i am the only one here who has actually won a race.”

alex loudly coughed, stopping max before he could continue. “it’s getting late, maybe we should call it a night?”

“it’s nine o’clock?” max questioned.

“no, i’m tired,” lando let out an undoubtedly fake yawn, “i think it’s time for bed.”

“okay suit yourselves,” max said, going back to his iracing, “lando, don’t take it too personally that she chose me. we’ve been friends for so long, we don’t know anything but each other.”

“i’ve known her just as long as you!”

it was starting to get a little heated and despite alex and george trying to interject, the two kept going.

“you may have known her just as long, but you don’t know her. we’ve been there for each other at our lowest and our highest. it’s not a competition. i honestly hope she comes to you next season, i don’t trust your team as far i can throw them. it will be good to have someone in her corner.”

“oh well if you’re that magnificent then why can’t you be her white knight all the way from red bull, huh?”

“you know what lando, we’ll talk about this again once you’ve shaken off this weird primal urge you have to ‘claim’ her. a piece of advice, she won’t like that.”

“oh you insufferable little shit-”

“goodbye everyone!” alex interjected, kicking max out of the call.

“what the fuck was that lando?”

“you heard him, posterising, peacocking and then having the gall to say that i’m being territorial over y/n.”

george sighed, his affection for the same girl was going to have to be buried even deeper after this. “max wasn’t peacocking about y/n, lando. if anything he was showing off his wins rather than her,” alex tried to reason.

“no! he can’t let us - can’t let me have anything. it’s always been this way and with y/n it’s like he knows deep down that i want her so he has to have her instead. he’s clinging on to her and shoving it in my face - it’s not my fault he has a shit dad and he attached himself to her because she was the only one not afraid of him - so why am i being punished for it?”

lando’s outburst rendered alex and george silent. the older one was horrified to say the least, the season hadn’t even started and lando’s jealousy was already out of hand.

“lando, that was too far…” alex said softly.

“no! he thinks that because he has a shitty sob story that he can just claim her? she’s her own person!”

“right. i’m going to stop you there before you say something that’ll make me hate you for real. you need to get over what ever the fuck this is so you can be a normal fucking human being next season,” alex tried to reason with lando.

“i am in love with her!”

“are you? or are you in love with the thought of what could happen? have you actually stopped and wondered whether y/n likes you or even likes men? for someone so protective over her, you haven’t considered her feelings too much.”

lando has the foresight to look a little guilty. george stayed silent, he knows alex is suspicious of him too, but that can of worms can wait until another day.

“you need to get a life and calm down. max is one of your best friends and i know deep down you didn’t mean a word you said tonight but you need to get a grip before you say any of that in front of him or y/n because i’m sorry but i won’t be stopping them if they try to hit you.”

lando doesn’t say anything, but the guilty look on his face says enough.

“goodnight.”

the call ended there and was never brought up again. george watched y/n waltz back towards the mclaren garage, a big gap between her and lando. there had been no more outbursts since that night but if what george overheard from daniel, lando had still managed to completely screw himself. was george that angry at that news? not really.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

the race was pretty uneventful, barcelona usually was. y/n started in sixth and managed to pip charles to fifth after ferrari screwed up his pitstop once again. despite her deep love for sangria, y/n didn’t really feel like leaving her hotel room after she had scrubbed all of the sweat and grime off in the shower.

she was pleased with her points haul, smiling to herself in debrief as they analysed lando’s first lap incident with pierre gasly that lando just insisted was no fault of his own…

her ring tone invaded her peaceful evening, the name ‘albono’ flashing up on her phone. pressing accept,

“how can i help you on this fine evening, mr albon?”

“well i find myself in this fine dancing establishment, looked around and thought it was crying out for a little y/n y/ln action.”

“dancing you say?”

“i’m 100% serious, sebastian of all people has dragged also to a bar where they’re attempting to teach us the tango…”

“oh i love the tango! it’s my favourite dance on strictly…”

“so what i’m hearing is that i should get a tequila sunrise in preparation for your arrival?”

y/n sighed, “yes you may.”

“score! i’ll send you the address and an uber. see you soon.”

so there goes her quiet night in, but who wouldn’t love the chance to tango with your close friends in under the stars? and she had packed her little red number… maybe the y/n who packed that suitcase all those days knew something current y/n didn’t.

y/n elected to skip most of her makeup routine, her skin sensitive from all the sweat in her balaclava, swiping on some mascara, lip gloss and a healthy dose of blush. like alex said, the uber was waiting for her outside the lobby.

the outside of the bar looked closer to a college dive bar than somewhere you’d expect to find a group of formula one drivers, but she suspects that’s why sebastian chose it.

“buenes noches senorita,” fernando alonso gave her a spin on entry.

“gracias nando,” she curtsied in front of the spaniard, drawing a laugh out of the elder driver, “i am sorry to cut this short, but i am tired and i fear i have already promised my one dance to another.”

“how will i ever recover?”

“i think you’ll find a way old man.”

“you wound me, but alex is waiting for you by the bar.”

y/n made her way through the bar, spotting several drivers caught up in their dancing lessons from the locals. she tapped alex on the shoulder, with the tall driver turning, wielding her tequila sunrise.

“nice of you to turn up at last,” alex teased, handing her the drink.

“i’ll have you know i was snuggled up ready for some netflix action before you called.”

“you came all this way for a dance with little ol’ me?”

“of course, alex. i have missed you.”

“i have missed you too, the red bull stuff is piling up and i have been neglecting my big brother duties, i’m sorry. not that it seems to be effecting your rookie season too much.”

“don’t worry about me alex, i’m proud of you and what you’re doing at red bull, even if they’re being unreasonably hard on you.”

alex led her to the middle of the dance floor and put one hand on her hip, the other on her shoulder. they started to move to the music,

“i just miss when it was more laidback. i barely have time to stop between sim sessions and media duties and performance meetings. i miss sitting in your driver room laughing at your instagram private messages and watching stupid adam sandler movies.”

alex spun her and as she came back to him she said, “we can still do that alex! you don’t have to be alone, we can still watch adam sandler movies and ignore calls from helmut.”

alex smiled at her as the music slowed down.

“i wish i was here for you more in your rookie season,” alex laments but y/n interjects, “it’s only the fourth race. you’re focused on you and i wouldn’t want anything else. there’s time for us to find our way back to each other. you're a brother to me, like blood, there’s nothing that can destroy that bond.”

“i’m sorry lando is being a prick.”

“it is what it is.”

“no it’s not. we had each other last year, he should be there for you.”

“it’s whatever, i have max, i have you, i’ll survive.”

the music came to an end. the two embraced but when they broke apart y/n started heading for the exit, picking up max on the way through, the dutchman having already booked them an uber. y/n turned and waved to alex, she meant it when she said it was just one dance. she made a ‘call me sign’ and mouthed ‘adam sandler’ before rushing out of the bar with max.

alex turned and made his way to george who was still nursing his first drink at the bar. george didn’t respond when alex prompted him. the thai man nudged george laughing about how ‘y/n knows how to make a short and sweet appearance’ but still got nothing.

“you’re not seriously angry about a tango are you george?”

“no.”

“you’re a terrible liar,” alex whispered, “not as bad as lando but terrible nonetheless.”

“at least i’m not taking it out on her like lando.”

“no, you just use max as target pratice on your dart board for shits and giggles.”

“whatever.”

“fine, deal with it how you wanna big boy, but if you turn out like lando right now, i’ll be down two best friends and up two murder charges.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

fin.

note: my first interlude! @deviltsunoda and i came up with these ideas so i could write shorter things while i have work and you guys still get fed! so enjoy this lil exploration into y/n and alex's friendship (they are so precious to me!) and why lando is being such an asshole... enjoy! the weekend should bring chapter four.

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998 @xsilkesworld @justaf1girl @daddyslittlevillain @evans-dejong @abq654 @elizamoe133 @wierdflowerpower @t1nkerbel1 @okcurran @raizelchrysanderoctavius @skepvids @multilovebot @fernandoalonso14 @jules-kup-172 @m4xgirlie @rorabelle15 @minkyungseokie @formula1-motogpfan @peterholland04 @miureiz @freyathehuntress @lighttsoutlewis @aleatorio1234 @chaosandevelyn @blueberry648579 @dog-and-cat-person230 @fastandcurious16 @obxstiles @cosmicwintr @becca388510 @savagittariuspy

[evera-era]

f**k you.

ellie williams x afab!reader

warnings: hate sex, ellie’s rude as shit in the first half, alcohol use, some name-calling, aggressive kissing, fingering, scissoring, brat taming, spanking, edging/overstim… i think thats it

a/n: kinktober’s here! ik im a few hours late guys im sorry. but hopefully this juicyness makes up for it !! wc 3.4k

Ellie couldn’t stand you.

She found you so incredibly annoying, and yet you shared the same friends. Which was the biggest problem, ever.

She never failed to make sure to let you know what she thought of you.

“Hey, idiot. We’re trying to have a conversation. Shut it for once, yeah?”

And you made sure to let her know that the feeling was mutual.

“Suck my dick, Williams.”

And like clockwork, she’d say something along the lines of “Sorry babe. Not into that.”

Truthfully, the two of you had been doing this for a while. This was nothing new. You’d go at eachother back and forth until one of you gets genuinely pissed off. Rinse. Repeat.

Dina hated it because she loves the two of you; she just can’t handle being in a room with both of you at once. Jesse would find it amusing until you and Ellie wouldn’t shut up during a movie.

It didn’t matter what you said or did. Ellie would either laugh, mock, or straight up disagree with you. Even if you stayed quiet and said nothing at all.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

She’d wait for your response, and when you didn’t have one, she’d keep going.

“No seriously. You look like dogshit.”

“Ellie please shut the fuck up.”

It was like she couldn’t ignore you. As if your presence was so incredibly overwhelming, that she just had to react to everything you did. You didn’t get it.

If you met up with the friend group to eat, Ellie somehow “forgot” to get you something. She’d make plans and purposely exclude you. And if you brought it up, she’d tell you to “chill the fuck out, it’s not that serious.”

You hated Ellie. And yet here you were, six feet across from her, sitting on the rug of her living room floor. Dina had insisted on a friendly get-together at Ellie’s, specifically requesting that “you don’t kill eachother.” You told her you’d try, but made no promises.

“Hey, Jesse.” Ellie said. “Could you grab me and Dina another beer?”

“Ellie,” Dina says. “You didn’t even ask if Y/N wanted one.”

“So?” She replies. “She’s a big girl. If she wants another she can get it herself.”

You rolled your eyes. She always did this — talked about you as if you were the dumbest person to ever exist.

“I’m right here, Ellie.” You snap. “I can hear you.”

“I know.” Ellie says. “That’s why I said it.”

“Guys, please.” Dina groans. “Just one night. One good night is all I ask.”

Jesse brings over more bottles. He cracks one open before handing it to you. Ellie stares at you, waiting for Jesse to hand out the rest before speaking.

“It would be easier if I didn’t have to look at her fuckin’ face all night.”

You scoffed. “You know, you’re really cocky for someone who lives in a fucking garage.”

“You’re lucky I even let your ass in this garage.” Ellie mutters. “Probably tracked in a shitton of dirt.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You ask abruptly.

Dina rubs her temples. “Guys—“

“You that stupid?” She questions. “It means I’m gonna have to sweep once you leave. Don’t want your germs gettin’ on my shit.”

“Fuck this. Nope. Not doing this.” Dina says, getting up from the floor. She whips around to face you and Ellie.

“I have tried to ignore the two of you in hopes of having a good time. I have begged you to get along for once. But clearly, none of it’s fucking working!” She throws her hands up. “I’m done. Seriously — come on, Jesse, we’re leaving.”

Jesse thinks for a moment, then shrugs. He begins walking towards the door with his beer in hand.

“Wait, what?” Ellie asks.

“You guys are gonna sit here and sort this shit out.” She says, throwing on her coat. “Until then, me and Jesse are going somewhere else.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dina—“

“Don’t wanna hear it.” She states as Jesse opens the door for her. “The two of you are smart, figure it out. You can come find us when you’re done.”

“See you,” Is all Jesse says, before pulling the door shut.

You and Ellie look straight ahead.

What the fuck.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. You didn’t know what to do. Dina was obviously pissed, but being left alone with Ellie was the last thing you wanted.

It’s as if she could read your mind.

“Get out.”

You raise your brows. “Excuse me?”

“They left because you don’t know when to shut your mouth,” She says. “And I don’t wanna keep hearing it, so get out.”

Your previous desire to get up and walk out of the door suddenly disappears. You set your drink down.

“No.”

“What?”

“You don’t like me? Great.” You say, kicking your feet back. “I don’t like you either. But I’m not gonna do what you say, when you say it, every single fucking time.”

“Wow.” She takes a sip of beer. “You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes.”

Your eyes flash over to the brunette in less than a second. But she doesn’t budge. Just leans into the couch, legs spread.

“Ellie—“ You begin. “What the fuck is your problem with me?”

She smirks as if you said something funny.

“I’m serious. What the fuck is it?” You repeat, staring intently.

“Are you that dense?” She meets your gaze. “Your attitude. If you couldn’t tell, you have a serious attitude problem. Should really get it checked out.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Like you don’t have an attitude problem.”

“Yeah, but that’s me.”

“Oh,” You nod sarcastically. “Okay. Sure, yeah. Because that makes sense.”

“See? Again with the attitude.”

Silence fills the room as you bite your tongue. The fact that you felt the impulse to respond immediately kind of proved Ellie’s point.

It pissed you off that she was right. You did have a bit of an attitude problem with her. In your defense, she never leaves you alone. You get along just fine with everyone else.

You had given up. You were ready to just go home and tell Dina the truth later. But as you stand up, out of absolutely nowhere, Ellie says:

“It sucks, ‘cause you’re hot. It’s a shame you’ve gotta act like such a fuckin’ brat.”

Were your ears deceiving you? Did Ellie fucking Williams just say that?

You laugh it off and shake your head. “You are truly something else.”

“I’m being serious.” She replies. “You could just sit there and look pretty. Don’t know why you choose to be so damn annoying instead.”

“It would be so nice if you just learned when to shut up, Ellie.”

“You gonna make me?” She says, watching you. You sigh dramatically.

“Didn’t think so.”

The way she was toying with you made your skin run hot. You weren’t sure if she really meant what she said, or if she was just trying to get a rise out of you. Either way, her sweatpants and sports bra combo wasn’t helping; you could feel yourself getting worked up.

“What are you getting at?” You blurt out. “What are you trying to do?”

“I’m not trying to do anything,” She murmurs, looking down then back up again. “Are you?”

You laugh harshly. “What the hell makes you think that?”

“You’re an attention whore,” She answers. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

The way ‘whore’ rolled off of her tongue was so incredibly casual. And yet, you enjoyed the fact that she was saying it to you. Pigs must be flying. There was no way this was happening.

“I’m not a whore,” You stated.

“Oh?” She says coyly. “I didn’t call you a whore, I called you an attention whore. But you were quick to argue, so now I’m curious.”

You shift your weight to one leg. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Ellie.”

“Yeah? Then why are you still here?”

You felt your neck and ears become incredibly hot. Ellie leans forward, pushing herself up from the couch and faces you.

“I’d be flattered if you said it’s ‘cause you like me as a person, but we both know that’s not true.”

Her eyes were dazed and unwavering. It could’ve been the alcohol, but it also could’ve been the fact that your mini skirt had been riding up your thighs all night.

And as for you, you surprisingly weren’t repulsed. In fact, you liked seeing Ellie like this. If you were sober you might have dipped already, but your legs were heavy and your panties started to feel very constrictive.

“I think…” She begins walking closer. “That you want the exact same thing. You just act like you’re too good for it.”

You could feel your inhibition weakening. You drunkenly stare up at her. “You think I’m not?”

“I know you’re not.” She takes another step. You go to step back, but your heel hits the wall.

“I don’t blame Dina for trying, but we both know we’re not gonna make up.” Another step.

“No?” You whisper.

“Mm-mm.” Her nose was almost brushing up against yours, now.

The eye contact was unmatched. Ellie wasn’t budging, and neither were you.

“I fucking hate what you do to me,” You whispered against her lips.

She smirks. “I fucking love it.”

Immediately, her lips are engulfing yours, with so much damn fervor and need. You curled your fingers in her hair, and tugged down hard. You didn’t care if you hurt her — after all, she deserved it.

Ellie smiles into the kiss, pulling you in closer as a small grunt leaves her lips. Her legs cage you in against the wall as she forces her tongue into your mouth.

You hated her. You hated her. You hated her.

So how was it possible for her to make you feel so goddamn good?

Her hands begin grasping at the hem of your clothes with frustration.

“Fuck, baby.” She moans. “Take this shit off.”

You were compliant at this point; you merely slid your hands under your shirt and did what she said. Ellie presses her head against your chin, whispering a few more curses as she looks at your exposed breasts.

“So fucking hot,” She groans, pressing her lips to your neck. You whined out of pleasure as you pulled her hips closer to you.

“This is so embarrassing.” You mumble, shutting your eyes.

“Mm,” Ellie hums. “Seem to be handling it quite well, though.”

The brunette begins trailing her kisses downwards. You jump at the new sensation.

“Ellie—“

“Shh.” She murmurs, teething dangerously close to your nipple. “Gotta focus.”

When she latches on, your head immediately falls back. You’re practically speechless as she sucks and swirls her tongue around the hardened bud.

You wanted her to keep going, but you were worried. If Dina and Jesse caught you like this…

As for Ellie, she is absolutely shameless in the way she’s going in on your tits. It was clear that she had wanted to do this for a very long time — she was just being a complete ass about it.

She pulls away with a hard ‘pop’ before looking up at you with her green eyes. “Come here,” She says, grabbing your waist and pulling you down with her.

You gasp as the two of you land on the couch. Her hand quickly finds the back of your neck as she kisses you again, bucking gently against you. A soft moan escapes your lips as you pull back.

“What if Dina and Je—“

“Y/N,” She whispers, pulling her shirt over her head. “I’m in front of you, and I wanna fuck you. Please just shut up for once. Alright?”

You blush, looking down at her chest. Her nipples were poking out, hard as rocks. “You’re so fucking mean.”

“You’re fucking mean,” She says, smirking. “Depriving me of this for so damn long.”

“Didn’t think you wanted me,” You slur against her lips.

“Yeah, well… you are pretty fuckin’ annoying.” She huffs, as you lean in to kiss her again. As the minutes pass, you find yourself rolling your hips against hers.

“More,” You say quietly.

“Hm?”

“Want more of you, Ellie.” You sighed, nudging your fingertips under her waistband. “Please.”

She grins before sliding her sweatpants and underwear off. “Only because you said please.”

When your fingers drag down against her clit, she’s wet, and you absentmindedly moan. She sneers, staring up at you.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing, just… that was the sluttiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

You hum against her skin, gently rubbing your thumb against her hood. “I could be sluttier.”

“Oh yeah?” She responds, grazing her teeth against your jaw.

You drag your fingers from her pussy to your lips, gently engulfing them in your mouth. You keep your eyes on her as you suck her juices off, groaning at the sweet taste.

Ellie’s face becomes that of a pornstar. Her eyes are half-lidded, nearly rolling back as she stifles a moan.

“Holy fuck,” She says, biting down on her lip. Her gaze drops to your lower body, and she begins shoving the fabric of your skirt up.

“What are you doing?” You murmur, watching the skirt bunch around your waist.

“Not gonna waste anymore time,” She explains, tugging at your panties. “I fucking need this pussy.”

You help her remove the undergarment, letting it drop onto the floor. Her hands settle on your ass as you gently lift her leg, lining yourself up against her.

“Fuck yes,” She whispers, watching carefully as you gently slot your cunt against hers.

Her cunt was soft, and incredibly slick and sticky. It takes you a moment to get the right angle before you begin to get a rhythm going.

Once you start speeding up, Ellie practically loses it. She’s breathing like she can’t get enough air.

“Fuck yes.” She repeats, bringing her hand down onto your ass with a hard slap. Her eyes are closed as she scrunches her brows in pleasure. “Holy fucking shit.”

“God,” You moan, sloshing your pussy up against hers. “You’re so wet, Ellie.”

The room becomes one filled with wet noises and moaning. Ellie’s hands are grabbing at everything — your ass, your tits, the couch. She’s in euphoria, seeing stars as she tries not to black out.

“Goddamn,” She mutters. “So fucking good, baby. Doing so fucking good.”

You whimper at the praise, still trying to wrap your head around what was happening. Ellie had been your worst enemy for months, and here you were, bumping clits with her like a fucking slut.

“Shit—“ She grunts, pushing her head back. “I‘m close, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Already?” You joke. “That’s quick, don’t you think?”

She quickly opens her eyes and looks at you. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” You say slyly, slowing down ever so slightly.

She smacks your ass, hard. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

You slow down even more, grinning proudly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ellie.”

“Y/N, you better fucking finish me off.”

“But… ” You whisper in an innocent tone. “We’re having so much fun, right?”

“I swear to—“ She exhales vexedly before sinking her nails into your hips. “Fuck it.”

She sits up, grabbing you forcefully before pushing you down so you’ve switched places. Ellie props your leg up on her shoulder.

“Wanna be a fucking brat? Hm?” She whispers, bringing herself down on your cunt harshly.

You moan in response, goosebumps beginning to form on your arms. You place your hands on her abs, pushing slightly in an attempt to get her to let up.

“Ellie, ‘s too much.” You mewl, as she ruts her pussy against yours.

“Shut up,” She mumbles. “You can take it.”

She keeps you down as she fucks you, ramming herself against your cunt. The sloshing of your clits sends you into a spiral.

“Oh my god, Ellie,” You murmur. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” She grunts. “You like this?”

You nod, but Ellie places a sharp slap on your boob.

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yeah,” You stammer, trying to grasp reality as the only thing going through your mind is how good her pussy feels on yours.

She uses her hand and grabs your chin, tilting your head up. “You better not fucking cum until I do, you hear me?”

You nod again. “Y-Yes, Ellie.”

The way Ellie scissors is ruthless. She’s concentrated, hair sticking to her forehead as she stares down at you. She watches the way your tits bounce as she fucks herself on you, watching as you beg her to slow down.

Her teeth clench as she nears her orgasm. She looks up at the ceiling before dropping her head back down.

“Fuck, I’m, shit— ‘m getting close.”

“Yeah?” You murmur.

“Uh-huh.” You bring your hand up to her cheek as she maintains her rhythm.

“Wanna cum with you, Ellie. Wanna cum all over your fucking pussy.”

“Fuck,” She says through gritted teeth. “Fuck yes. Keep talking, just like that.”

Ellie knew she wasn’t very far off. But she figured she’d make the most of it, in case this was the last time she got to see you like this.

“So good, Ellie,” You say softly. “Your pussy feels so fuckin’ good.”

“Yeah?” She exhales.

“Mhm,” You murmur. “Best I’ve ever had.”

Ellie’s eyes roll into the back of her head, her moans becoming choppy. She gently holds your foot as she grinds her hips down faster.

As Ellie becomes wetter, you stiffen and feel your stomach tightening. You were getting really close, and she could feel it.

“Y/N,” She says. “I’m—“

“Me too—“ Is all you can say, before drawling out into a moan. Ellie rides you deep into your high, breathing sporadically as she cums, herself.

For a second, the two of you barely move, merely catching your breaths. But eventually your leg starts cramping, and you slide it off her shoulder.

“Holy fuck.” You whisper. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“I can.” Ellie says, slowly hopping off of you.

“You’re a liar.”

“How?” She says, leaning against the opposite end of the couch. “It was only a matter of time ‘til I got into your pants.”

“Oh,” You scoff. “So it was easy?”

“It was so easy.” She says, smiling. You look at the floor.

“Shut up.” You grin, reaching over to grab your clothes. You slowly put them back on as she copies you.

“Wanna go find Dina and Jesse now?” She questions, pulling her shirt over her head.

“I thought you said we couldn’t,” You say. “Since we weren’t gonna make up.”

“Mm, ‘cause we didn’t.” She states, cocking her head. “I need about three more rounds of this before we re-visit that topic.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You giggle, tossing your jacket at her. She laughs, putting her hands up to shield herself as it hits her.

“I’m kinda serious though,” She says. “You wanna give me head next time? Or…”

You smooth your hair down. “In your dreams, Williams.”

She looks around, contemplating for a moment. “Does that mean I give you head instead?”

“Ellie please shut up now.”

[itneverendshere]

how would the cameron family react to rafe dating a pogue

Ps: ward's not a monster in this, just an asshole and shitty dad, bc my boy rafe deserves a better father figure (but i also need his daddy issues to make this work) also, didn’t know if this request was for this couple but i felt like it fitted them perfectly so here we are again 🫶🏻🤗

found a girl my parents love - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Rafe selfishly wanted to keep you a secret for as long as he could. 

Not because he was ashamed of you—not even close. You were his, the only person who actually got him. That part of him he never let anyone see, not his family, not his boys.

It was complicated, though, and his family didn't do "complicated" well. Especially not with a pogue. His dad would flip if he knew he was dating someone he hadn’t been personally introduced to before.

The bartender from the club, of all people. The one they’d see serving drinks to them all summer, like you didn’t exist outside those moments. That was the thing though, you did exist, more than anyone he’d ever known. You were real. That’s why he wanted to keep it just for himself. It was his one thing that no one else could touch, could ruin. Topper knew, sure, but he wasn’t going to run his mouth to Sarah after she broke his heart.

So yeah, he held on to it, kept you away from the world that would tear it down before it even had a chance to really breathe. Until Weezie stumbled into your date at the ice cream shop.

He remembered the way his heart stopped when he saw her walk in. Of all places. Of all the people. She looked at him with wide brown eyes, then at you, and then back to him like she’d just walked in on something she wasn’t supposed to see. 

And honestly? She did.

“What the hell are you doing here, Weeze?” he snapped, more out of panic than anger.

"Uh? Getting ice cream?" Her face lit up, a huge grin stretching across her cheeks. “What are you doing here? And with her?” She looked at you, her excitement bubbling over before Rafe could get a word in. “Oh my God, this is so cool! You’re dating her? Like, for real?”

You smiled awkwardly, sensing the tension rolling off him. He looked like he was seconds away from shitting himself. He could’ve killed Weezie right then and there. But instead, he just sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, well… don’t tell anyone, alright?”

“Are you kidding?” Weezie practically bounced. “I won’t say a word. Scout’s honor.” She shot you a smile before turning to leave. “But like, this is so cool.”

He scowled at her, “Stop being creepy.”

You slapped his chest, scolding him “Be nice.”

“Oh, I like her!”

She kept her word. For a little while, at least.

A few weeks later, they were all sitting around the dinner table—Ward, Sarah, Rafe, and Weezie. Rose was out doing whatever the fuck she did with her friends. Everything was going fine until Weezie, mid-conversation about nothing important, let it slip.

“I saw Rafe and his girlfriend the other day,” she said, just like it was no big deal.

Girlfriend.

Rafe froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. Sarah looked like she’d just been smacked in the face.

“Girlfriend?” Sarah’s voice went up an octave. “Since when do you have a girlfriend?”

He shot Weezie a look that could shove her ten feet under, but it was too late. She slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing her mistake.

Ward raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “You got something to share with the family, son?”

Rafe cleared his throat, putting his fork down, already working up a sweat. He knew he couldn’t lie his way out of this one. And honestly?

Maybe it was time to stop hiding. He glanced at Sarah, who still looked at him like he was from outer space, then at his dad. He’d always given him shit about girls, all these big speeches about how none of them were ever worth bringing home unless he was serious. 

Well, he was serious.

“Yeah,” Rafe muttered, meeting his dad’s eyes. “I’ve been seeing someone.”

Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “Who?”

“She’s a pogue!”

Rafe closed his eyes, sighing as Weezie blurted the most important piece of information out. She really just dropped the biggest bomb in the most casual way possible. His dad’s expression didn’t change much, but Sarah? She was fully in shock, her jaw practically hitting the table.

“A Pogue?” Sarah repeated, like she couldn’t believe the words even existed in the same sentence as Rafe. “Are you serious? In this lifetime?”

He shot her a glare. “Yeah, a Pogue. What, is that some kind of crime?”

“What?” She shrieked, “You gave me so much shit when I dated John B!”

He clenched his jaw, his patience hanging by a thread. Of course she was going to bring up John B. She couldn’t let anything go. “That was different,” he snapped.

Sarah scoffed, folding her arms “Different? How exactly?”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Because John B’s a dirtbag who had you sneaking around doing God knows what. This is—” he stopped himself, trying to find the right words. “This is different, okay? She’s not like him.”

“So, it’s okay when you date a Pogue? Got it.”

“To be fair,” Weezie chimed in, “John B smelled like shit.”

He couldn’t help the snort that escaped his lips, even though the last thing he wanted to do was encourage her. Sarah shot Weezie a death glare, clearly not amused.

“Language,” Ward warned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I have to tell you girls? No swearing at the table.”

The room fell silent, everyone looking at Rafe like they were waiting for him to say something. His dad didn’t even look mad—if anything, he looked weirdly intrigued.

“So,” Ward said slowly, his gaze locking onto Rafe’s. “You’re serious about her then? Serious enough for me to meet her?”

Rafe swallowed. “Yeah. I am.”

“Alright. Let’s make that happen then.”

He blinked, completely thrown off. “What?”

Ward’s response was calm, almost too calm. “If you’re serious about this girl, then it’s time I meet her.”

Rafe just stared at him, unsure if he’d heard that right. His dad wasn’t angry? Was he impressed? Or was this some kind of setup?

“You... wanna meet her?” he repeated, like he needed the words to make sense.

His dad’s expression wasn’t the usual stone wall of judgment. “I’ve always said if it’s not serious, don’t bother bringing her around. You’re saying she’s important to you, right?”

“Uh, yeah…” Rafe’s voice trailed off, still half-expecting this to somehow turn into a lecture or some Ward Cameron test. “She is.”

He nodded, like he was already planning it. “Alright then, set it up. I’ll meet her.”

He couldn’t tell if this was a win or if he’d just walked into something he wasn’t prepared for. His whole plan was to avoid this exact conversation. He looked across the table, expecting Sarah to be just as blindsided as he was, but she was still stuck on one detail.

“You’re dating a Pogue,” she muttered, shaking her head like she couldn’t get past that fact. “I just… wow.”

Rafe shot her a glare. “Get over it.”

Weezie, always the little instigator, grinned. “She was cool.”

“Okay, so… when do I get to meet her?” Sarah’s brown eyes widened with curiosity. “Is she cute? What’s she like?”

This wasn’t how he thought the night was going to go at all. 

An hour later, he was lying in bed, staring at his phone, his mind still spinning from dinner. He pulled up your contact, hesitating for a second before hitting the FaceTime button. The screen flashed for a moment, and then there you were, all cozy in your own bed, unaware of what was about to hit.

“Hi baby,” you chirped, clearly happy to see him, “What’s up? You look stressed.”

Rafe rubbed his face, letting out a long breath. “Yeah, well, uh—something happened at dinner tonight.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion, tilting the phone closer to you. “What? Did Sarah say something dumb again?”

“Nah, worse,” he muttered. “Weezie... Weezie kinda let it slip. About us.”

Your eyes widened immediately. “Wait, what? She told them?!”

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a low chuckle at the memory of the whole dinner spiraling out of control. “Just dropped it casually like it was no big deal. Sarah freaked out, and my dad—" He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “He wants to meet you.”

For a second, you didn’t say anything. You just blinked, processing his words. 

“Wait... Ward Cameron wants to meet me? As in, your dad?”

“Yeah,” He mumbled, almost sheepishly. “He’s all, ‘If you’re serious, I should meet her,’ or some shit. Like it’s no big deal.”

You sat up straight, your heart racing. “Rafe, that is a big deal! What the hell do you mean he wants to meet me?!” Your voice rose, panic starting to take over. “Oh my God, I didn’t even think about having to meet your dad. I figured we’d just— I don’t know—figure it out later!”

Rafe winced, knowing this would freak you out. He tried to keep his voice calm, even though he wasn’t exactly calm himself. “Baby, it’s not like tomorrow or anything. We can plan it out.”

But you were already spiraling. “Your dad’s gonna take one look at me— What if he hates me? What if he tells you I’m not worth it, and then—” you paused, your voice breaking slightly, “What if you start to believe him?”

His stomach clenched at your words. He sat up, the phone now held closer to his face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. What are you even talking about?”

You bit your lip, your thoughts running wild. “I mean... what if he convinces you that I’m not good enough? What if you start seeing me differently? You know how your dad is—he could talk you out of this, talk you out of us.”

Rafe shook his head, almost angry that you’d even think that way. “Are you serious right now? No way in hell is that happening. I don’t give a shit what my dad thinks. You’re the one I’m with because I want to be with you.”

You sighed, your nerves still rattled. “But what if he tries to get in your head? You always talk about how much pressure he puts on you. What if he—”

He cut you off, his voice firm, assertive. “Look, I’m serious about you. I told him that tonight. It doesn’t matter what he says, because you’re the one I love. No one’s changing my mind about that. Not even Ward fucking Cameron.” His eyes softened a little. “I already met your sister. This is just the next step, yeah? It’s us. We’re solid.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

He hated this—hated that the idea of meeting his dad was making you feel like this, but he couldn’t blame you. Ward was intimidating even on his best days, and this was not going to be one of those days.

“You’re not gonna throw up,” he said, trying to calm you down, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

You shook your head, running a hand through your bed hair. “What if I say something dumb? What if I screw up, and he hates me, and then everything goes downhill? I’m not, like... your people. You know that.”

His jaw clenched, hating the way you thought of yourself like that. “Don’t say that,” he scolded, “You’re exactly my people. You’re my person.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No ‘buts.’” He cut you off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Listen to me. My dad’s opinion doesn’t change anything. He’s not gonna make me see you any differently. You’re still gonna be the same girl I’m crazy about, no matter what he says or doesn’t say. Got it?”

You took a deep breath, trying to believe him. “It’s just—I don’t know, Rafe. I don’t fit into that world, and what if he sees that right away?”

He hated that you felt this way, hated that his dad had this kind of power hanging over the two of you. “You don’t need to fit into his world, okay? You fit into mine, and that’s all that matters.”

Your lips quivered, and for a second, he thought you might start crying. He could feel the panic rolling off of you through the phone, and it hit him hard—he hadn’t realized just how terrified you were of this.

“What if he really doesn’t think I’m good enough for you?” You whispered, almost like you were scared to say it out loud.

Rafe’s heart clenched, and without thinking, he shot up out of bed, pacing his room like he needed to burn off the frustration

“You’re more than good enough for me.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away for a second like you were trying to compose yourself.

“I just don’t want him to—I don’t know? To make you feel like you have to choose between me and your family.”

He stopped pacing, his grip tightening on the phone. “If it ever came to that? I’d choose you. Every fucking time.”

You blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. “Rafe—”

“I mean it,” he said, cutting you off again. “I’m not letting my dad, or anyone else, get in the way. I don’t care if he’s Ward Cameron or the president of the United States. He’s not gonna run my life, and he sure as hell isn’t gonna ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you. And nothing my dad says or thinks is gonna change that. Ever.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall over. Not because you were scared anymore, but because of him. Because of how much he cared. How much he loved you, even when you were spiraling.

He was staring at the screen, concern written all over his face, brows furrowing, "Wait, are you crying?" His voice softened, like he wasn’t sure how to handle you like this, but he knew he wanted to. He needed to.

You quickly rubbed at your eyes, laughing to try and cover up the tears, "No, no, I just— got something in my eye." Your laugh was shaky, and you knew you weren’t fooling anyone.

He didn’t say anything for a second, just watched you with that loving look of his that made you want to bawl your eyes out even harder. He saw right through you. He always did.

“You know,” he finally said, “You don’t have to worry about all that shit. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

And that’s when you almost lost it. Because wow. No one had ever said something like that to you before, not until him. Never like that, like he really meant it, like you were the most important thing in his world.

You sniffed, trying to laugh it off again, but it just came out all soft and broken. “I’m just—” you paused, not even sure how to explain how you were feeling, “I’m not used to this. Like, you... caring this much. Loving me like this.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and he leaned a little closer to the screen, “I’m not stopping.”

“I know. I love you too.”

It was real now.

Meeting the Camerons wasn’t something you could avoid anymore, but at least you knew you had Rafe, a hundred percent.

“You still freaking out?” he asked, though his tone was lighter, like he knew the answer.

“Yeah,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But I’ll get over it.”

“Good,” he said, his smirk returning. “Because I kinda need you around.”

“Kinda?”

He grinned, dimples framing his face, “Okay, a lot.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Rafe hadn’t said a word the entire drive, which was already freaking you out more than you wanted to admit. His knuckles were white, tight around the steering wheel. His jaw was locked, teeth grinding together and you’d caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye at least three times in the past minute.

Your heart was hammering, stomach in knots, and you were starting to wonder if you might actually throw up by the time you got to Tannyhill.

“Baby, seriously, if we crash into a tree ‘cause you’re having a silent meltdown over there, that’s not gonna help either of us.”

He blinked, finally loosening his grip on the wheel. “Sorry. I’m just—fuck, I don’t know.”

You tried to smile, but it felt weak. “Yeah, me too. I feel like I’m walking into some kind of corporate job interview I didn’t apply for.”

Rafe snorted. “Yeah, except the CEO’s a control freak and the company’s, I don’t know, cursed or something.”

That made you laugh, a short, nervous laugh, but still. You appreciated the attempt at humor, even if the nerves in your stomach weren’t going anywhere.

“So, uh... game plan?” you asked, half-joking, but mostly serious. “Am I supposed to shake his hand? Call him Mr. Cameron? Or is it more of a ‘hey, what’s up, Ward?’ situation?”

Rafe finally cracked a grin, shaking his head. “God, I don’t know. Don’t call him Ward; that might send him into some power trip. But definitely don’t call him Mr. Cameron either, ‘cause that’ll just make it weird.”

“Great, so I’ll just go with ‘Hi’ and hope I don’t trip over my own feet.”

“Perfect,” Rafe deadpanned, glancing over at you, “Just be yourself. He’s not as bad as you think. Mostly.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Mostly?”

Rafe’s lips pressed together. "He's not gonna throw you out or anything. And if he does, we’re leaving together. But Sarah...”

“Sarah,” you groaned, leaning your head back against the seat. You’d barely met Sarah, and from what you could tell, she wasn’t exactly thrilled about Rafe’s choice in girlfriends.

“Just don’t let her get to you,” Rafe muttered, his hand reaching for yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “She’s just mad because I used to make John B’s life a living hell.”

“Define hell.”

Rafe smirked, his fingers still interlaced with yours. "I mean, I threw him off a boat once," he said casually, like that wasn’t one of the most insane things you’d ever heard.

You blinked. “You what?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road, like it was no big deal. “He was running his mouth about me."

You stared at him in disbelief, “And you think I’m the one who needs to be worried?”

He laughed, finally loosening up a little, “Relax, baby. I’m not throwing you off anything.”

“So she’s not mad about me? She’s just mad about the double standard?”

“Yeah.”

That made it a little easier to breathe.

The silence settled back in for a moment as you pulled up to Tannyhill. The sight of the massive estate took your breath away. You couldn’t help but feel like you were entering a completely different world now that you were here—a world that wasn’t exactly built for you.

Rafe must’ve noticed the way your hands gripped the edge of your seat a little tighter because he let out a long breath.

“Hey, it’s just a dinner. We eat, we talk, we leave. It’s not like they’re gonna put you under a microscope.”

You gave him a side-eye. “You know, I wasn’t nervous until you said that.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Shit. Sorry.”

The car came to a stop, and you could see the flicker of lights through the windows of the house. The pressure in your chest was building, but Rafe turned toward you, his hand cupping your face.

“Listen,” his blue eyes locked on yours, “I don’t care what happens in there. You’ve got me. If anyone makes you feel like you don’t belong, we’re out. Promise.”

You swallowed hard, nodding as you leaned into his touch. “Okay.”

“I’m serious,” he continued, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “One word and I’ll get you out.”

You kissed his palm, “I know.”

“Okay.” he muttered, then pulled away, giving one final deep breath before turning off the ignition. “Let’s get this over with.”

You both stepped out of the car, Rafe knocked once, and within seconds, it swung open to reveal Sarah standing there in all her kook-with-pogue -tendencies glory.

“Well, well,” she smirked, eyes narrowing at you two.

Rafe shot her a sharp look, “Knock it off.”

She rolled her eyes, stepping aside to let you in. “I’m kidding. Kinda.” She turned her attention to you, and you could feel her sizing you up, looking completely unfazed as she led the two of you further into the house. "Dad’s in the study. He’s waiting."

Your heart skipped a beat at that. Waiting? What did that even mean?

Rafe must have felt your nerves spike because he reached for your hand again, squeezing it as you followed Sarah down the long hallway.

The house felt even bigger on the inside, with its high ceilings and fancy decor. You felt out of place. But then you peeked over at Rafe, and something about the way he held your hand made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you did belong.

At least to him.

Sarah finally stopped outside a large wooden door, turning to you with an exaggerated sigh.

"Good luck.”

Rafe hesitated for a second, his hand still gripping yours tightly. "You ready?"

No. Absolutely not. But you nodded anyway. "Yeah. Let’s do this."

He pushed open the door, and there he was.

Ward Cameron, sitting behind a massive oak desk, looking as powerful and intimidating as ever. His eyes flicked up from whatever paperwork he was working on, settling on you with a sharp intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Rafe," Ward said, his voice smooth and controlled, before turning his gaze to you. "And you must be... her."

You swallowed hard, trying to muster up the courage to say something, anything. "Yeah, that’s me. Hi, Mr. Cameron."

You immediately regretted it. Mr. Cameron? It sounded too formal, too awkward.

Ward didn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, he looked amused. He stood up, coming around the desk to get a better look at you. His eyes scanned over you briefly, but it wasn’t the cold, judgmental look you’d expected. Instead, it felt more like... curiosity.

"So, you’re the girl my son’s been so serious about."

You nodded, wanting to be anywhere but stuck in that claustrophobic room despite its size, "That’s me.”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked between you and Rafe, “I hear you’re working at the Country Club.”

It wasn’t really a question—more like he already knew everything about you. Oh. You didn’t like that, knowing that someone else was snooping around for dirt on you. At least it sounded like that was the plan.

You managed a nod, trying to keep your voice from sounding too hushed. “Yeah, I’ve been working there for a while.”

His expression didn’t really give anything away, but the way he looked at you, was unnerving. Rafe’s hand squeezed yours, reminding you that, no matter what, he had your back. One word and you were out.

“Good,” Ward finally said, “I like that you work.” He sneaked a stern look at your boyfriend before turning his attention back to you. “He could use some of that drive.”

Wait. What?

You hadn’t expected that. You thought maybe he’d grill you or give you the whole ‘what are your intentions with my son’routine. But no, he was... complimenting you? It had to be some kind of set up.

“Dad—” Rafe started, clearly not expecting that either, but Ward cut him off with a raised hand.

“No, seriously.” His eyes were back on you, and there was almost a smile there, like he was actually impressed. “It’s a good quality. I respect people who work hard, people who don’t just expect things to be handed to them. And from what I’ve heard, you’re one of those people.”

You didn’t even know what to say.

Ward Cameron? Complimenting you? Was this real life? You’d walked in here prepared for a full-on interrogation, and instead, he was... encouraging.

“I just hope some of that rubs off on my son,” Ward added, shooting Rafe a look, and you swore there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “He could stand to work a little harder. He’s always been a bit lazy.”

You bit back a laugh, glancing over at Rafe. He was glaring at his dad, but you could tell he wasn’t really pissed, just...embarrassed. You found it endearing.

“Thanks, Dad,” Rafe mumbled.

“I like it. Maybe you’ll inspire him to work a little harder.”

You blinked. Wait, was this actually happening? Did Ward Cameron, of all people, just say he liked you? This whole night felt like it was gonna be a disaster, and now... maybe it wasn’t gonna be so bad. You hoped so.

You really wanted his family to like you, you felt like you owned him at least trying.

“You know," Ward began, "I wasn't always the man you see standing here today." His voice took on a reflective tone, and you could sense the change in the atmosphere as he prepared to tell his story. "I grew up on the Cut, just like a lot of those kids you see around he, like you,” Ward said, almost casually, but you could tell it wasn’t a casual thing for him. "Back then, I didn’t have much. But I worked my ass off to get out of that place. I didn’t have a name, no wealth behind me. What I have now? I built that from the ground up. No one handed me anything."

Rafe, who had been quiet up until now, let out a small, barely audible sigh, shifting uncomfortably beside you. You took a quick glance at him and caught the unmistakable eye-roll he tried to hide.

Clearly, this wasn’t the first time Ward had given this speech. But at the same time, you could tell he was relieved that his dad wasn’t tearing into you. That had to count for something, right?

Ward, oblivious or perhaps just unfazed by his son’s reaction, continued, his voice gaining momentum like he was giving you some kind of motivational speech. "It wasn’t easy. There were plenty of times when I could’ve given up, but I didn’t. I pushed through, made connections, took risks. That’s how you get ahead. You have to be willing to do whatever it takes. Now look where I am—" He gestured around at the lavish room, the estate itself practically a testament to his success. "I built an empire. Something real. Something that can last."

You nodded politely, unsure if you were supposed to say something. Rafe’s obvious eye-rolling and silent huffs of frustration beside you made it clear that he’d heard all this a hundred times before. He shifted in his seat, crossing his arms, clearly waiting for his dad to wrap it up.

But Ward wasn’t done yet. He turned his attention back to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The point is," he said, his tone softening a little, "I respect people who are willing to work for what they want. I see that in you. It’s not about where you start—it’s about where you’re going."

Rafe let out a short, quiet breath that you might’ve missed if you weren’t sitting right next to him. He shot you a small, knowing smile, almost like he was apologizing for the speech but also relieved that Ward wasn’t being an asshole.

You squeezed his hand under the table. At least his dad wasn’t tearing you down.

"Thanks, Mr. Cameron," you said, finally finding your voice. "I really appreciate that."

He nodded, seeming satisfied with himself. "Just remember," he added, his voice lowering as if he was giving you some kind of life lesson, "Hard work pays off. You keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll get somewhere. Don’t ever settle, not even for him.”

“Thanks again.”

Rafe looked like he was about to explode from how much he was holding back, but he just gave you a quick wink as if to say, Yeah, this is typical dad, but hey—he likes you, so we’re good.

Ward clapped his hands together, the moment of sincerity quickly passing. "Alright, well, I think dinner’s ready. Shall we?"

He strode ahead, leading the way out of the study and toward the dining room, leaving you and Rafe a few steps behind. The moment he was out of earshot, you looked up at Rave, “You think we’re good?”

He smirked, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes, his tone all teasing. “Baby, I think he might build you a pedestal.” 

You couldn’t help but snort, trying to keep your voice down as you followed Ward. “Really? After that ‘self-made empire’ speech?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, giving you a knowing look. “Trust me, if you got through that and he didn’t start questioning your entire existence, you’re golden. The man sees himself in anyone who works hard enough to breathe without permission.”

You bit back a laugh, gripping his hand as you walked down the long hallway. “Yeah, I was getting that vibe.”

His grin grew wider, his thumb skimming over your knuckles. “And look, usually, it’s a full-blown interrogation by now. You’re good.”

You raised your eyebrows, slightly surprised. “Really?”

Rafe nodded. “Oh yeah. Sarah’s brought home guys before and it was... rough.” He shook his head, “He actually likes you. That’s rare.”

Maybe things with the Camerons were actually going to be okay.

[bucks-babe]

How Can I Forget You?

Follow my sideblog @bucks-babesideblog for updates on when I post

Pairing: Bucky x reader x Steve, Stucky x reader, Stucky

Summary: I literally don’t know how to summarize this. 40’s Bucky and Steve go to war, then you know what happens to them, Ladybird is left in the 40’s. Steve and Bucky are in the future. Will they get their Ladybird back?

Warnings: Angst (a lot of it), fluff, poly relationship, pre serum Steve, 40’s Bucky and Steve, 21st century!Bucky and Steve, some gay sex because it was getting too sad (anal fingering, anal, grinding naked), Peggy was never with Steve, implied suicide by alcohol, death of the reader in the 40’s, pet names (darling, ladybird, dumpling), crying, Jewish!Bucky, nostalgia, time jumps, happy ending because who do you think I am, I am not paying for anyone's therapy just so you know

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: There is no mention of the reader's body type nor race. Part of this fic does take place in the 40's, but I wanted to have a blank reader so that readers from any race can imagine themselves as Ladybird. There is no mention of period related homophobia because this shit was already too damn sad. If I missed any warnings, please let me know becuase I know that this fic is angsty and I want to make sure that everyone knows what they are getting into. Thanks to @buckys-wintersoldier for sacrificing her mental health for this fic 🤘

“Stevie, have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?” Steve blushes and hides his face in Bucky’s chest, breathing in his woodsy scent. “Don’t hide from me, punk, can’t see those pretty eyes anymore.” Running his fingers through Steve’s soft hair and trailing his hand down to the back of the smaller man’s neck, he gently brings his head back up, appreciating the soft, pink glow on his lover’s cheeks.

“Buck,” Steve trails off, not able to form a complete sentence when Bucky is looking at him like this - like he is gorgeous and not scrawny or undesirable. He doesn’t fight when Bucky brings their lips together, moaning at the taste of Bucky’s last cigarette. His eyes flutter as they pull away, both of their pupils blown, lips swollen and cheeks red. “You know, smoking is bad for you.”

Bucky grabs Steve and lays down on the couch, Steve resting between his legs. “I’m going to live until I’m 100, Stevie, smoking or not. You, my dear, are the one we need to worry about.”

“Like hell, you’re going to live that long with those habits. I’m healthy, it’s the doctors that keep telling me I’m not fit to join the army.” Bucky sighs. No matter how much he tries to stop Steve from enlisting, it never works. Not even their Ladybird can convince him.

“Stevie, please. I don’t want to hear anymore talk about this. Not today.” It’s their Ladybird that speaks, voice thick with emotion, yet stern. Neither of her boys would disobey her. She sets the tray with their sandwiches down and quickly leaves the room, palms frantically trying to smooth her dress down, pressing wrinkles that don’t exist.

Today was the day that Bucky had to leave. He didn’t enlist, not when his Ladybird wanted him at home, safe with her and Steve. She was terrified that he wouldn’t come home, leaving her and Steve behind.

But Steve was more stubborn than his man, not accepting staying at home when the men of his country are risking their lives. He needed to protect his country. “Stay here, dumpling.” Leaving a kiss on his forehead, Bucky follows Ladybird into the kitchen.

Two strong arms wrap around her waist and the tears she was desperate to hold in, cascade down her cheeks, ruining the makeup she spent so much time on. She was trying to be strong for him, support him before sending him off, but it was too much. Knowing that he could be killed at any moment, and these could be her final memories of him, was too overwhelming.

“I know, Ladybird, I know. I promise you that I’ll come home, okay? I can’t leave my best girl and guy alone.” She turns in his arms and his calloused palms rest on her cheeks, thumbs wiping away the stream of mascara running down her face.

“Steve, he, he can’t enlist, Buck. He just can’t. How am I supposed to stay here knowing that the loves of my life are out there, getting shot at, bombs going off, huh?” Steve sneaks in, snaking his arms around her waist.

“For you, Ladybird, I won’t. I’ll wait here with you, send Bucky letters, keep you safe, okay?” She knew it was a lie; Steve could never lie, but she chose to believe him in that moment. Maybe for her own sanity, or maybe just to savor the last moments she would ever get to spend with her men.

She was Bucky off, waving to him when he boarded the train, but when Steve left the house for errands she knew where he was going - she never saw him again, but she knew it was for his love for her and Bucky. She didn’t blame him.

***

When Steve woke up from the ice, the first thing he did was see if his Ladybird was still alive. From the moment he got the serum, he regretted lying to her. He knew when he looked in her eyes, she knew what he was going to do; she accepted his choice. It was who he was and she wouldn’t dream of him being anything else.

He cried that night, when Fury gave him the documents he so graciously printed from Google. Ladybird died only a few years after he went on ice. She never moved on. They said it was a broken heart, but the 40’s would never report a woman drinking herself to death, wallowing in the sorrow of lost love.

It was his fault. Maybe she could have healed from the loss of Bucky if he was there. It would never take away the pain, but she would have one of them, but he left her behind. He would visit her grave daily; her body six feet below him, wearing the dog tags of her lovers.

The pain was eased when he found Bucky. They had each other. Even when he couldn’t remember much, Bucky remembered his Ladybird. Steve wishes he could forget the day he had to tell the man he loved that their girl was dead.

“I still want to be with you, Steve.” It took a while before Bucky was stable enough to choose to love again, but it was never a hard decision. The love for Steve too much to ignore.

Their first time was much different from the 40’s. They both changed so much - Steve more so than Bucky. They couldn’t get each other naked fast enough, kisses and loving touches scattered throughout.

Bucky didn’t feel embarrassed by his arm, not when Steve’s eyes were filled with so much love and lust. Bucky had to look away, his eyes landing on his boyfriend’s cock. “Oh my god, Steve!” He didn’t mean to gawk but he couldn’t help it. Steve went from slightly below average to very much above it. Long and thick, veins pulsing through his cock, supplying enough blood to keep his large erection up.

“What? Oh.” Steve’s signature blush crept up his cheeks just like it used to. Even though his body changed so dramatically, he was still the same boy from Brooklyn Bucky fell in love with. “You’re bigger too, Buck.” Steve shied away from Bucky’s gaze, worried about how Bucky’s cock was going to fit inside of him.

“It hasn’t changed that much, dumpling.” It was almost true. Bucky was always above average - maybe seven inches. He was always thick, but now? His cock looked like it doubled in thickness, and around an inch added to his length.

“Yeah, right.” Bucky beamed at Steve as he became more comfortable under Bucky’s gaze.

“Well, how about we compare sizes then?” They both groan at the first contact in years, dicks pressed against each other. “Won’t you look at that, you’re bigger than me, dumpling.” Steve’s face scrunched in confusion, trying to focus through the haze of pleasure. There was no way that he was bigger than Bucky.

Nonetheless, Steve looks down, almost cumming at the sight of his lover’s cock leaking onto his. His eyes widened; he was bigger than Bucky. It was only by an inch, even with the serum thickening his cock, Bucky was still much thicker. “Good boy, see how pretty your cock is? Fuck, missed you so much.”

Bucky groans in between words as he grinds against Steve, cock pushed harder against his. Steve’s hands find the sides of Bucky’s face, pulling him down in a heated kiss while ropes of his cum shoot out onto both of their stomachs and chests. Bucky follows right after, not able to handle the pleasure the simple grind of their hips brings him as they both share their first orgasm since the 40’s.

He collapses on Steve’s chest while they both catch their breath. “Darling, I need your cock in me. Need to feel how you stretch me out.” Bucky’s cock instantly hardens.

“Fuck, dumpling, we don’t have lube.” Even in his lust filled state, Bucky knows that going any further would hurt.

“Don’t need it. Look at all our cum.” Bucky looks down and whimpers. The serum really did a number on them. His first orgasm in 80 years was a lot. The mixture of their cum was dripping down Steve’s sides and leaking down Bucky’s chest. He quickly dips down to get a mouthful of their cum, moaning as he shares it with Steve. “You taste just as good as I remember, Buck.”

Bucky scoops a generous amount onto two of his fingers while Steve eagerly spreads his legs, presenting his tight hole to his partner. At this moment, it’s just the two of them. The pain of their Ladybird is gone, if only momentarily.

The moan that leaves Steve’s lips as Bucky’s first finger breeches his hole is almost enough to have him cumming untouched. He doesn’t know how long he stretches Steve out for, but it was enough time to have Steve cumming on his chest again, giving Bucky more lube to use.

“Ready, dumpling? Ready for your sergeant’s cock?” Steve only moans, frantically nodding his head. No one would have thought that the tough captain was so submissive in bed. Bucky strokes his cock with Steve’s spend a few times before lining up with his stretched out hole.

He meets little resistance as his tip slips in. “Fuck, Steve. Think you’re even fucking tighter.” He has to close his eyes, balls pulsing and pulling up already. Steve’s tight ass ready to suck all of his cum out.

“Uh, uh, just bigger. So much bigger.” Steve’s mind was empty, only wanting his ass full. He cries when Bucky hikes his legs up, wanting to be as close as possible. “Wait, please.” Bucky immediately eases his cock out, knowing that he’s a lot bigger to take now. After a few minutes, Steve’s breath evens out and his eyes lock with Bucky’s, nodding at his lover.

As gently as he can, Bucky slides back inside his ass, slowly feeding Steve inch after inch. “How full are you, Stevie?” It wasn’t smug; Bucky needed to know that Steve was okay. Leaning down, Bucky presses his forehead against Steve’s, staring into his eyes. Tears fall from both of their eyes, connected so intimately again.

“So full, Buck.” He leans up to capture Bucky’s lips in a kiss, neither able to think straight, let alone kiss properly.

“I love you so fucking much, dumpling.” Steve cries out, hips jerking in an attempt to take more of his sergeant’s dick. As Bucky’s hips rest against Steve’s center, they both cum, chanting each other’s name like a mantra, whispers of their love passed back and forth. Neither of them can stop, trying to make up for all the years spent apart. All the years each spent mourning the loss of the other.

By the end of the night, they’re both spent. Cuddled in each other’s arms, Bucky is the first to break the silence. “Is it just me, or does this almost feel wrong without Ladybird?”

“It does, but she wouldn’t want us to stop loving each other.” Bucky doesn’t respond, caught up in his own mind. The pain from losing their Ladybird would never go away and they both knew that.

***

“Dumpling, you should stay there.” It’s said so quietly that if Steve wasn’t a super soldier he wouldn’t have heard him.

“Excuse me?” Steve pulls away, quickly sitting up in the bed.

“You should stay with her. You deserve it - she deserves it.” Bucky hangs his head, not able to look Steve in the eyes.

“And you don’t?”

“No. After all I’ve done, I’d only taint her. She doesn’t deserve that.” It was a decision that Bucky thought long and hard about.

“You think she would believe that? That I would? I just lost you, Buck and you’re asking me to do it again.” Steve stands and paces around the room, not able to comprehend what his boyfriend was saying.

“Think about it, Stevie. At least she would have one of us. You know what happened when she found out we both were ‘dead.’”

“Drop it, okay?” And Bucky did, but he planted the seed inside Steve’s mind.

***

“I’ll never stop loving you, Darling.” Bucky nodded, failing to hold in his tears, knowing that this was the last time he was going to see his best guy.

“Take care of her for me, yeah?”

“You know I will.” He grabs Bucky’s face, sharing their last kiss, tears mixing together. “And don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” His voice cracks, saying his final goodbye.

Bucky swallows hard. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” He caresses Steve’s cheek once more and pats it, letting his hand fall down. They look at each other in silence, burning this memory into their brains.

He can’t bear to look at Bucky when he gets on the pad.

***

Steve’s throat is tight as he looks at his old brownstone. His Ladybird is right behind the door, having no idea who is outside. He picks up the spare key - exactly where it always was.

He has to close his eyes, taking in the familiar scent of the home he shared with his two loves. Stepping over the threshold, he sees her and his breath gets caught in his throat. “Ladybird?” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice, so unsure and in disbelief of what he was seeing.

Her head whips around; the dish she was washing shatters as it hits the ground. “Stevie?” His feet are glued to the ground, back hitting the closed door as he tries not to fall to his knees. “Is it really you?” Unlike him, Ladybird sprints to him, her dress fluttering at the speed she moves, the dog tags of her lovers jiggle with every step.

She almost tackles him to the ground, arms intertwined around his neck, legs clutching his waist. He catches her easily, his own arms squeezing her to his chest. Both of their sobs mix together as Steve drops down on the couch, legs no longer able to hold him up. “I thought you were dead. They send soldiers here and everything.” Steve couldn’t form an explanation, too caught up in her entire being.

He can only pull her into a kiss. It was messy, full of tears and snot, but neither of them cared. She didn’t know how long he waited for this moment. They held each other for hours, crying and kissing. Eventually, she fell asleep in his arms.

Steve didn’t have it in him to put her down as he went around the house. Everything was just as he remembered. The kitchen table, engraved with all their initials, still had three chairs around it, each one in different states of ruin - Bucky always flopped in his chair leaving the legs wobbly. Steve’s favorite mug sat on the lowest shelf, right where pre-serum Steve could reach, even though Bucky loved to put it up higher so that Steve had to ask for his help.

The living room still held the old rickie bookshelf that Ladybird insisted that she could put together by herself, no matter how many times her men offered help. Upon it was Bucky’s first edition copy of The Hobbit. He and Ladybird would always make fun of him for how much time, money, and effort he spent just to get that book - Steve placed it in a box along with the recipes from Mrs. Barnes.

The bedroom made his breath hitch, his arms instinctively holding Ladybird closer. His favorite chair, ripped in multiple spots, sat in the corner of the room, right by the window. Right next to it was his stand where his old sketchbook sat untouched - he put that in the box too. Bucky’s side of the closet hung his clothes, neatly arranged in order of his favorites, while Steve’s clothes lay on the ground in a pile, always too lazy to fold them.

The top left dresser draw held the photo album Ladybird made them for Christmas/Hanukkah - that went in the box. Ladybird’s jewelry box had a necklace with the Star of David that she saved for to get Bucky on his birthday. Bucky gave it back to her before he left for safekeeping - in the box it went. On top of the dresser were all the letters she sent to Bucky and Steve, along with the letters they sent her. The army gave them back to her with their dog tags - Steve made sure to not damage them as they were placed in the box.

***

The team shared gasps and whispers between themselves as Steve reappeared with a woman in one arm and a small box in the other. He whispers something in her ear before pointing in the distance.

A gorgeous smile graces her lips as her eyes meet Steve’s target. She doesn’t hesitate to sprint across the grass, bare feet and ignoring all of the Avengers. Bucky doesn’t hear the beat of her steps, overwhelmed at the loss of both of his partners.

He doesn’t know what hit him as he falls to the ground. Kisses are placed all over his face. For a second, he thinks that he’s dreaming because he would know her smell anywhere, the feeling of her lips ingrained in his mind. But even in his dreams, he couldn’t hear her voice, always muffled and distant, but it was clear as day as he lay on the soft ground.

“Bucky!” He has to grab her face to stop her assault, pulling her back far enough to confirm that it was real, that his Ladybird was in his arms.

“Bird? Oh my god.” He pulls her back down, showering her with affection, practically rolling them around in the grass, not caring about the audience that slowly surrounded them. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Her tears come back once again. His hair was longer, worry lines sprinkled around his face, cool metal pressed against her right cheek, his right hand more callused than before. Steve told her a bit about what happened, about how Bucky lost his arm, how insecure he felt because of it.

Without pause, she tilts her head, soft lips placed delicately on his metal palm. “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” Stuck in their own little bubble, they don’t notice Steve laying beside them until his arms wrap around them both.

With one look he gets the rest of the Avengers to leave them in peace. Unlike his past self, Steve could lie when he needed to. He knew that Bucky wouldn’t have let him go to return the stones if he knew Steve wasn’t going to stay. Laying a kiss to Bucky’s forehead, Steve takes in the sight before him, all of them together at last.

“Bucky, you were right. I did take all the stupid with me.” Bucky’s tear streaked face looks over at his partner.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, dumpling.” For the first time since before the war, all three of them felt at peace, finally in each other’s arms again. It may have taken 80 some years, but none of them would change a thing if there was even the smallest chance that they wouldn’t end up together.

[knowyourplace-fool]

Umm, I loved bully gojo and 2 , what happened after he kidnapped her and yknow , non conned her , like is he just obsessed with her , ORRRR , is he obsessed with her aaanndd IN LOVE with her ? Will he force her to be his girlfriend and future wife. Will she try to pick herself up and make a good life for self even though gojo literally exists. Hmmmmmmmm???? Idk but anwyas that story atteee . Stay sexy , ..sexy 🥰💓

⚠️: NON CON, Kidnapping, Mean!Gojo, physically, mental and emotional abuse, manhandling, bullying, biting, groping, size difference, pregnancy sex

-> THIS IS REALLY DARK AND FUCKED UP PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK !

-> Idk why but everyone ate that Gojo fic up for some reason😭

-> part 1

Oh boy, he is more than obsessed with you

You made it too easy for him

With your family being out of the picture and you having quite literally 0 friends

Isolating you… well you already did that to yourself

Your reputation at school burned to the ground the moment he decided to leak your sex tape

So there’s no going back to uni

He handed in a resignation letter on your behalf and though your boss was concerned, Satoru assured her that you’re alright, but your morning sickness has been brutal lately

She raised her eyebrows and smiled, telling Satoru to pass on her congratulations to you

Your roommate at your dorm didn’t give a crap (she has a big, fat crush on Satoru and when she found out he slept with you, she wanted to kill you.)

That urge only grew stronger when Satoru stopped by your dorm to move your stuff out and when she asked him why he was the one moving it, he simply stated,

“Well, she’s pregnant with my child so she’ll be living with me so I can take care of her.”

Safe to say your roommate spent the night ripping her hair out of her scalp

And you. You’re sitting in the sunroom with a cup of warm tea and a side of prenatal vitamins in front of you

You’re in deep thought when the door swings open and a tall figure enters in

He sits next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you onto his lap so that your back is relaxed on his chest

“Did you take a look at the blueprints?”

“I did but… what’s wrong with this house?”

“Nothing. I’d just like a bigger home to raise our family in.”

He’s met with silence

“You haven’t taken your vitamins.”

“I will, I just, I haven’t been feeling too good this morning.”

To that he hums and leave a kiss on your neck

“How’s the dress shopping going?”

You pause and put your hands over his

“Don’t you think we’re rushing this? Why can’t we wait till after I’ve given birth?”

“I don’t wanna wait that long.”

You wanted to ask him why, but you knew it would result in the back of his hand meeting your soft cheek

You had already experienced Satoru’s aggressive side and you’d rather not deal with it until this baby is out of you

“I’m sorry, but I need to pee.” You squeak, escaping his grip and leaving him alone in the sunroom

5 days passed, and it was a big day. Your wedding day. Even though it was put together on such short notice, it turned out marvellous.

For a girl, her wedding day is supposed to be one of the best days of her life, right? It’s supposed to be magical, exciting and memorable… right?

So why are you sitting on a chair labeled “bride”, with your hair and makeup complete, staring at a one way bus ticket to the neighbouring city?

That leaves right when the ceremony starts

You had known about the bus ticket. Actually, an unexpected someone had given you the bus tickets.

Suguru, Satoru’s ex-bestfriend.

They had a huge falling out over a business deal and even mentioning his name sets Satoru into a rage. Especially if it’s his fiancee.

So as a lick back, Suguru offered to help you escape him. And maybe by the end of it, you’ll warm his bed once or twice, or better yet, marry him.

From Suguru’s perspective, it was the perfect revenge. Nobody knows Satoru better than himself. He knows exactly how he thinks and what steps he would take to find you.

He also knew that today would be the only day that Satoru wouldn’t be breathing down your neck because you were getting ready to be his bride.

At first, you didn’t believe it. But Geto is convincing. He thought about everything — down to the last little detail. He made you picture a life where you’re far away from Satoru and given a chance to start fresh again.

Going to the neighbouring city means you could have an abortion so you won’t be tied to the blue eyed monster for eternity.

Geto left his number on a sticky note that was attached to the bus ticket. You walk over to the landline and dial his number. After a ring, he picks up and once he hears your sweet voice, he smiles.

“Meet me at the corner of Xander’s street, there’s plenty of trees there to keep you hidden.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest and the tips of your ears were hot. You knew. You knew that if Satoru had the slightest hint about what you were about to do, he’d drag you to hell and back. But the idea of marrying him, having his child and building a home for your family, was far more petrifying.

You slip into some shorts and a tank top before sliding out of the bridal room and using the nearest exit to leave the venue. You scurry along the trees, hoping and praying no one sees. The corner of the street was quiet and secluded. You had plenty of cover and you waited until a blacked out Range Rover pulls over.

The window rolls down and it’s Suguru. He tells you to hop into the back seat quickly before anyone sees.

You do what he says, except when you open the back seat door, you’re met with icy blue eyes.

Your breath hitches and before you know it, you’re being pulled into the car with Satoru screaming at you.

“You fucking lying whore! How fucking stupid can you be, hm?”

He placed you on your back and wrapped his fingers around your neck, slightly chocking you

“When Suguru told me that you accepted the bus tickets, I let it slide. I let it slide because I thought you were smart enough to know not to cross me. But you, you fucking bitch, you really tried to leave me at the alter! You really thought you could get away from me?”

He tears your shorts apart, revealing your white undergarments that you were supposed to wear under your wedding dress.

You couldn’t help but cry, spewing apology after apology. But he wasn’t having any of it. He unbuckled his own pants, pulling his thick cock out of his trousers. He spat down on it for lube and without a care in the world, entered into you.

“You stupid bitch- you thought you could run away and abort my baby?!”

He leans down, his hot breath tickling your ear as he tugs on your hair to expose your neck.

“If you thought, even for a second that you could hide from me and live a normal life after killing my child. You’re just as sick as me… And clearly, you don’t know who the fuck I am. So let me teach you.”

He lifted your legs to mating press, ruthlessly thrusting into you while you sob beneath him. You try resisting by attempting to pry his fingers off the bottom of your thigh, but he has a death grip on them

“P-please stop… It hurts — I can’t move or b-breathe properly.”

You hiccup, but he ignores. Instead, he picks up the pace, making you cry even harder.

“I’m s-sorry please! Please it hurts! I can’t-”

“Shut the fuck up and take it. Or I’ll ask him to shut you up with his dick. I bet you’d like that, you fucking whore. So eager to leave me, is it because you have the hots for my best friend?”

Your eyes glance at the rear view mirror, and sure enough, his eyes are glued on you

Which only makes you sob harder. Hearing no response from you angered Satoru. Did you really like Suguru? He pressed on your neck, and by the look of his eyes, you knew he was waiting for an answer.

“N-no! I don’t- I swear I- I’m just not ready to be a mother, please!”

“I don’t fucking believe you.”

According to Satoru, the entire thing was a test for you. The falling out, Suguru giving you the bus ticket to help you escape, and meeting you at the corner of the street— it was all apart of the test. And you failed it. Miserably.

“And here I was, thinking that I had trained you to know better. To know better than to leave me. But you prove me wrong again and again.”

He finishes inside you. Suguru pulls into the back of the venue. Satoru pulls you up right and lays his forehead against your own.

“Go get your hair and makeup re-done. The next time I see you, you better be in your gown walking down the aisle to wed to me. Do you understand?”

“Mmh”

“Words”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good.”

Apologies for any mistakes. It’s pretty late. Also have mercy on me, I haven’t wrote anything in 9 months so it’s a bit rusty😭

[yuesya]

“Cursed? What do you mean, cursed?”

Sanemi narrows his eyes at the blue-eyed, white-haired girl. The one who’d just wandered in and said that Oyakata-sama wasn’t sick, but cursed instead, with the sort of tone that indicated what she’d said was supposed to be obvious.

Your oyakata-sama isn’t sick. He’s cursed.

… The hereditary illness plaguing Oyakata-sama’s bloodline was one that constantly, incessantly ate away at their body, causing their health to deteriorate at a rapid rate. All children of the bloodline died young –and yet, it did not prevent each and every one of them from devoting themselves to the never-ending war against man-eating demons.

Sanemi was aware that Oyakata-sama’s health was… deteriorating. Rapidly, even, which was not something that he liked thinking about. And yet, it was a fact that all demon slayers were forced to face, because it was the cold reality in front of them.

“Your oyakata-sama is cursed,” the strange girl repeats herself, far too calm and uncaring for Sanemi to be at ease with her presence. “I presume that’s why you’re looking for a sorcerer.”

… A what?

The nonsensical word throws Sanemi off-kilter for a moment. Judging by the faint confusion that he can see on his fellow Pillars around him, Sanemi is not the only one with this reaction.

“A sorcerer… is that what you are?” If Oyakata-sama is surprised, his level voice does not betray a single hint of it. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that term. What you say is true; a curse has befallen my bloodline. The priests said that a demon had been born of our blood. And until the demon is dead, no child shall survive into adulthood.”

“I see,” the girl says, summarily polite, her expression unmoving.

“The reason why we’ve been searching for you is because you killed a demon,” Oyakata-sama continues. “Without use of a nichirin blade, and in the dead of the night –you killed a demon. Upper Moon Three, to be precise.”

The girl tilts her head, “Upper Moon?”

… She didn’t even know what an Upper Moon was? Was she being serious?

Sanemi watches, faintly incredulous, as Oyakata-sama pauses briefly… and proceeds to explain what the Moons are to her.

The Demon Moons are the most powerful demons under Kibutsuji Muzan’s command, their hierarchy measured and separated into different ranks based on strength. Upper Moons, and Lower Moons.

“… and demons, with their high regenerative abilities, are impossible to kill unless they are either decapitated, or exposed to sunlight.”

All of this should be common knowledge for a demon slayer. But her lack of knowledge about it… reminds Sanemi of himself, in a way. Back when he’d first started hunting demons, that is. He hadn’t had a clue what he was getting himself into, but he’d known that demons existed and devoured humans –and so he’d attempted to kill what demons he could, fighting them with mundane tools and relying on sunlight to burn them to ashes.

If he hadn’t been found by a demon slayer who inducted him into the corps and got him proper training, Sanemi would’ve gotten himself killed by his own recklessness, eventually.

But… evidently the same did not hold true for this girl. Who was somehow able to kill demons without either sunlight nor nichirin steel.

How?

How was something like that even possible?

“You want me to kill demons for you,” the girl’s voice is distinctly unimpressed. And the phrasing of those words is enough for Sanemi to gnash his teeth and scowl, because what did she mean by that–

“Demons are a danger to all humans!” he snaps at her. “Don’t talk as if Oyakata-sama is–”

“Yes.”

Sanemi whirls around, aghast. “Oyakata-sama!”

“It’s alright, Sanemi.” Though faint, there is still an ever-present smile curled over Oyakata-sama’s lips. “Whether it’s for me, or for anyone else… that is what I’m asking of her. With the skills she has shown, she would be a valuable ally in finally eradicating the King of Demons once and for all.”

“Why should I help you?”

The words themselves are arrogant, condescending, and yet none of it shows in her voice. If anything, the girl’s voice is as calm and neutral as ever in sharp contrast to what she’s saying, and–

“Is there anything that you desire?” Oyakata-sama asks.

“…” Blue eyes stare out at Oyakata-sama, unreadable. “… A binding vow. I’ll kill your demons for you, and you help me find a way home.”

[nevertheless-moving]

unable to stop dwelling on the discworld trouser leg of time where, in the penultimate fight scene in Nightwatch, Carcer manages to kill teenage Sam Vimes.

Which means that the future that Duke Vimes came from can no longer exist, which means he can’t go home. Meanwhile you’ve got a bunch of history monks with stored up temporal energy, a prepared space outside of time, and the need to do some desperate damage control before the Auditors get involved. Death shows up, reality is unweaving, Sam is reading Carcer his discworld miranda rights because what else is he supposed to do.

and finally, with little other option, the monks de-age Sam so he fits the time period and send him back out into the fray.

(they didn't call it deageing of course. His memory is hazy, splintered during that terrible in between moment, They....took the time out of him? Sanded away the edges of his self for a terrible, workable fit? It...wasn't a good feeling.)

Just—damn. Sam Vimes having to live his whole crapsack life over again, but this time as his disillusioned-reillusioned, unwillingly-character-developed, noir-epic, Duke of Ankh, Commander Sir Samuel Vimes self. 

Younger (Older? He's never felt so Old, His steps so Childlike, reality twisting in his gut like one of Dibbler's pies) Sam Vimes walking around in a haze after the revolution. Desperate to go home, knowing he can’t. Wanting to drink. Knowing he can’t.

The whole precinct feels pity, he really took Keel’s death hard, hardly speaks except to do his job. Eventually he has to grit his teeth and start being present, because what else is there to do?

Resists the urge to drink until Colon takes the whole watch out to celebrate because -he’s going to be a father!

Come on Sammy, one drink won’t kill you— and after the first drink he’s cracking jokes and after the second hes smiling and after the third hes honestly the life of the party and sometime after that he’s crying about how he was going to be a father and my wife would be ashamed if she saw me drinking like this and— 

Oh shit, Did anyone else know he had a wife?? A PREGNANT wife??? What—aren’t you like 12—no you're 17 now aren't you but when did—

You guys n’ver met ’er—oh gods none if you ev’n know ‘er, is jus’ me...

What—when did you lose—

I lost her the same damn day I los’ ev’rythin else, whadya think...bleeding Carcer...the fuckin revolution...

So! That! Sam only vaguely remembers the night, but rumors travel faster than light on the disc, so by the next day the whole damn city knows about poor Sam brung low by the loss of his poor, tragic, pregnant wife, so young to be a widower, and the Seamstresses nod because they already knew, don’t ask them how, somethings you just have to know in that trade.

And his mother—I don’t know, sue me, I’m a time travel fiend but there’s something deeply intriguing about a man meeting his dead parent, who is somewhat younger than him, and stepping into the old relationship like a badly fitting thing that's supposed to fit well. She would know, right? How would she deal with her son’s impossible grief? Maybe she wouldn’t know—he spent most of the time out of the house, running with different street gangs, maybe he avoids her until she dies and lives with the guilt twice over. God, we don’t even know her name. There’s just so much narrative and emotional potential that I don’t even know where to start.

When he’s on duty, which is most time - it’s agonizing because at first he remembers cases, saves lives that would have been lost. But the more time passes, the hazier his memory because in the original timeline he was becoming an alcoholic. Fuck! A kid dies and he could have saved her if he hadn’t been such a drunk, if he had just remembered where the asshole lived, but it’s all a haze, and he wants to drown out his guilt, but that’s what caused this in the first place.

Good young Sammy, who spends his rare off-time in dusty libraries (and yes, the irony that he’s apparently Carrot now is not lost on him) reading gods-only-know.

It’s not like he can ask the wizards for help, cutthroat and vicious as they are now in the not-so-distant-past.

Good young Sam, who...talks to the Broken Drum’s pet Bouncer like he’s a real person and not a dumb rock? That’s a bit weird, but he’s a bit of a funny guy.

Good old Sam, who believed the testimony of the dwarf who said the humans were trying to rob him and let the dwarf go??

the PROBLEMS this man would cause, good grief. Can you imagine a moderately progressive middle aged man with some degree of begrudging diversity and equity training that he did, for all his sins, pay attention to, suddenly going back to like, 1990, going back just 30 years, and going...oh damn this is kind of fucked up, no man you can’t say that, holy shit.

Except Sam’s lived through even more rapidly shifting social moroes! There’s no seamstress guild, there’s no women allowed inside the university, there’s no black ribboner’s society. People hunted trolls for their teeth! But Sam can’t just unlearn everything, and he can’t shut up, and he has no real luck and anyway he would absolutely get himself (temporarily) fired.

FUCK. Sam has no idea what to do with that. None. Zero clue. Wanders around in a haze until that dwarf he saved from police brutality finds him and insists on repaying the debt. No, he insists, do you have any idea what debt means to a dwarf?

“Sort-of?” he replies hesitantly, and that honest admission of incomplete knowledge shows a hell of a lot more respect and understanding than any self proclaimed dwarf-expert ever did.

Gets a job as a surface man, hauling rocks into the city. It’s backbreaking work, but, in true Discworld fashion, it’s also one hell of a workout (again the irony of being Carrot is not lost him. he freezes for a minute while hauling a rock cart, when he remembers he's technically Lost Nobility too, in a strict sense, but someone curses at him in the street and he's comfortingly grounded)

And here is where this au slides into a SPECTACULAR romantic comedy, BEAR WITH ME. Because in his time on the Watch he’s already done noir, action adventure, war story, detective who dunnit, psychological horror, but guards guards only allowed him to be a romance protagonist in an extremely limited context.

Give me righteous, twenty-something-looking, can’t-say-he-doesn’t-have-style, young Sam Vimes, not an alcoholic,  being fed three square meals a day by his dwarven forced found family, hauling rocks. He is startled to find him bumping his head on a low hanging bar that he doesn’t think used to be there, eventually realizing that he’s an inch or two taller than he remembers. Huh. Guess all that bearhuggers really did stunt his growth.

Still doesn’t get what some of the looks from women he’s getting are about, sure, he’s dirty but so is everyone else. Fine, he took his shirt off, but it’s hot out, there’s far wrinklier than him hauling heavy loads, get a life. 

Happens to glance in the Ankh one day when it’s particularly slow and shiny and is startled to realize that he might be turning heads for a different reason. Oh. Right, not that he was ever a heartbreaker, but he did alright for himself... when he was a younger and his face hadn’t been broken so many times. Which...it isn't now.

Is mildly disturbed by the revelation.

Especially once things blow over at the precinct and what with high mortality rates, he ends up with getting hired again. The boys are delighted to have him back, nevermind that he’s an odd one, noone is ever quite in your corner like Vimsey, absence makes the heart fonder, no one else works that hard, and he’s not even competition for promotion. All around great guy, we should set him up with somebody and just, no.

It just keeps getting worse! He’s literate! He’s a feminist! He believes abuse victims! He’s got a tragic backstory! He’s unreasonably good in a fistfight! He’s kind to animals! Word gets around that there’s a good man on the watch and he’s just waiting for a good woman to come snap him up. The widower excuse doesn’t hold people off completely, and for some it’s its own sort-of appeal. 

Things REALLY become stressful after he rescues that carriage full of noblewoman.

What’s he supposed to do? Let them get robbed? Or worse? Chasing down and beating up 10 goons is as easy as beating up one, when they’re that stupid, getting separated like that, drunk and distracted, and he knows these streets better than anyone, really it’s nothing. And oh lord he’s Modest too.

I mean, they were genuinely greatful, as genuine as people like that are capable of being, the skill having grown rusty. And then there is something...magnetic about the man. An air of command.

So, soon enough you get Lady Marigold of Marigrave calling on Treckle Road for that gallant young officer who rescued them, she really needs to thank him. And Viscountess Elanor Thitzferal specifically requesting that he guard her at her next soiree. And Baroness Julieta van Shoeholten insisting that he come to her home while her husband’s away, for... manly protection.

Aaaah just zero sympathy from the guys. None. 'It’s become a competition, they’re just trying to see who can get me into bed first, it’s like I’m a piece of meat, you can’t send me sir, the Marquess greeted me in a nightee last time you made me go to—' and 'small gods Vimes are you even listening to yourself, shut the hell up'.

Simultaneous to this, (again this is several years into the timeline) swamp dragon accessories come into style. Which means abandoned swamp dragons scrounging on the street. Vimes takes one back to his apartment, blows his paycheck on dragon medicine, and eventually, heart in his chest, brings it to the Ramkin estate. The sunshine orphanage doesn’t even exist yet and he’s just standing outside the gates like an idiot, what is he thinking. Turns around, but her carriage is pulling up and—

well. they meet. it's cute. he's never felt so young. he's never felt so old, too old for her, too poor—

and certainly her thoughts linger too long on the awkward, kindly, handsome young commoner, but is it any wonder she doesn't quite connect it to the stern, dangerous, sexy young guard the ladies seem to be in some quiet, cuthroat competition over?

i have this gorgeous, absurd scene in my head in which Vimes is strong armed into standing guard at some high society soiree and one of the pushiest ladies insists he dance with here, or, if he prefers, if he's not confident about his skills, he can dance with her in-private at her home and he’s like [grinding teeth, looking for a way out, seeinf one] “I would be honored to dance with you.”

Steps right into some ultra-complex dance with multiple partner swaps (she never thought he'd pick this one, devilishly intimidating to one not strictly trained, and you barely spend anytime with your first partner).

But he does alright. Better than alright, for a common man, sometimes misstepping but his hands and feet always end up where they need to be. Raises several eyebrows part way into the song because he's throuwing in some slightly scandalous, no innovative, extra lifts and twirls that wouldn't become fashionable for another decade or two. Who even is that guy? Some out of towner? No, no he's in a guards uniform...how very strange.

Gets to Sybll and she's used to embarrassment during these dances, she tries to get out of them when she can... but can't always. Men awkwardly skipping the lifts, or worse, trying and failing. But him — oh it's him, the one who helped little Erold, and looked at her like—like—well like she was someone beautiful. And he's doing it again, and he's strong and there's a quiet moment where she's in the air, they lock eyes, and the rest of the room melts away.

And then the partners change again, the moment ended.

Just...living throught it all again. To the left, a dance he almost knows the steps to, throwing others off balance with erratic moves , honest mistakes, and delibrate stepping on toes. Improvising. Ruining. Improving. Getting far, far too much attention.

Hes almost excited when the first assassains start coming after him. It's like a hobby.

Everyone tells him he should get a hobby.

Interactions with young vetinari...I don't have the energy to write it all down, the slow circling in on each other, both burning with the need to fix the city, save it, their city.

needless to say he ends up fired again, life under real threat after offending some high lord.

Conveniently enough he has an employment opportunity- bodyguard to fucking Vetinari on his 'grand sneer.' The bastard knows vimes isn't what he seems, though sam is pretty sure that he doesnt know the exacts.

Vetinari hypothesis:(the ghost of keel? Keels son, with some hereditary curse? Or a larger spirit of justice possessing a string of unrelated souls? He knows things he shouldn't- mind reader? Fortune teller? Havelock once arranged for a wizard to bump into him on the street, the magical fool gave an odd double look and then muttered something about destiny looping in on itself giving him a headache. Destiny? Lost noble? And hes far too familiar with sybyl, one of the few bearable noblewomen in this city. And his thoughts on guilds, when havelock can trip him into speaking... Most of all, if hes reading him at all correctly (for all the mystery hes not that hard to read, unless thats a very clever cover) then it seems that behind those dark haunted eyes is Respect. Loyalty. For vetinari. What an interesting man. A puzzling asset. An intriguing threat. )

Did I mention the timeline is changing, healing slowly around the place where it was torn? Healing enough around scars to perhaps get some flexibility back, with some painful stretches and...massaging of said scar tissue?

And hes heading to unresting uberwald, a place where a werewolf pack still hunts humans and, truely unrelated but perhaps equally exhausting, an eldritch spirit of vengeance just might be looking to stretch its legs in a hapless vessel?

Opening drabble Vimes Vetinari Meta (Unwell) Scene from the Uberwald Grand Sneer

[dreamingofthewild]

Once again, I feel the need to point out that Gale did not know the orb was the Karsite Weave, capable of destroying Mystra, until she told him in Act 3. And that was after she had already ordered him to kill himself—only revealing the truth once he had set his sights on the Crown, which she wanted for herself.

Gale genuinely believed he was returning a lost piece of the Weave to her. He wasn’t trying to surpass her. He did it because he wanted to please her. He never felt worthy. Yes, he hoped that one day she would see him as her equal, allowing him access to the knowledge the gods kept hidden. His ambition, while misguided and reckless, was never malicious—he was not seeking to overthrow her or destroy her.

As a Chosen, Gale was already an incredibly powerful wizard, and it wasn’t his fault that he reached for something he didn’t even know existed. Mystra never warned him—she simply told him to be content. And when Gale takes the Crown (provided you’ve read the Book of Karsus), we learn that he is powerful enough to ascend to godhood. Yet, unless you pursue the Origin Evil ending, he doesn’t attempt to claim her domain—he creates his own. That is ambition, not hubris.

Gale’s ambition is not the equivalent of a man thinking he’s better than a woman, nor is it the act of someone trying to surpass a figure they have no skill in. His heartbreak is clear. He is devastated, and he is ready to obey Mystra’s order to sacrifice himself. You don’t think that if she had told him the truth from the start, he wouldn’t have begged her, pleaded with her in horror, to remove the orb and forgive him? But she only told him when he sought something she wanted. And even then, I have no doubt that had she simply asked him to give her the Crown in exchange for forgiveness, he would have done so. Instead she ordered him to die for it, and if you know what happens if he uses the orb in Act 2, you know that his death achieves nothing at that moment apart from her getting the crown.

The only reason he goes after the Crown at all is because it’s his only alternative to dying at Moonrise, and it's his chance to prove himself worthy. He is desperate at this point, but his indignation remains at the God's themselves and the way they treat mortals, not just Mystra. Gale is essentially going through a crisis of faith. I think many either forget or downplay this element of Gale's relationship with Mystra. She's an Omniscient, Omnipotent being, and Gale is a mere mortal. She had/ has all the power.

There have been so many others who have portrayed this more eloquently than I, and with screenshots.

[girlokwhatever]

hiiiii PLSS KATE MARTIN ANGST!!!! 🥰🥰

₊˚ෆ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊- ,, illicit affairs,,

kate martin x fem!reader

(not spell checked.. are you surprised?)

it was doomed from the start, when you told kate it had to be a secret.

she had somehow weaseled her way into your life, immediately finding a keen liking for you. for some reason you let her; you let her break your walls down until there was nothing left between you but unspoken feelings of love and admiration. it was inevitable when she kissed you, making it impossible for you to reject her advances because, secretly, you wanted her just as bad.

but no one could know. no one knew.

make sure nobody sees you leave,

hood over your head,

keep your eyes down.

you were running through the dorm parking lot belonging to the building kate lived in. your hoodie was pulled up over your head, draw-strings tugged taught until you could hardly see. kate watched you through her window, the weight of your shared secret making her feel heavy.

she hated seeing you go like this— rushed and panicked with the news that her team was coming back to the dorms earlier than originally planned. her hoodie engulfed you, creating a safe and secret place for you as you crossed the parking lot, eyes downcast as you make your way to your car.

you’d finally been able to come over to her dorm after weeks of hardly seeing her at all. not even moments ago your limbs were tangled with hers, soft kisses and a sloppy make out transpired between the two of you.

her whole team was out, celebrating a win that kate would rather miss if it meant she got some alone time with you. the time with you ended up being short-lived though. not even a full hour had passed before kate received a text from caitlin informing her everyone was going to check in early tonight.

disappointment was etched in her face as you pulled out of her embrace, quickly collecting your things to leave. all she had left was a chaste kiss on the lips and a sweetly whispered goodbye that rang in her ears as she watched your car disappear into the darkness.

what started in beautiful rooms

ends with meetings in parking lots

“i’m sorry we had to meet like this.. i thought the team would’ve been gone tonight.” kate sighs, letting her hands slip off of her steering wheel as you step inside her car.

you could tell she was tired. her hair was messily tied back, dark circles sagging under her eyes as she rubbed them. assuming it was pressure from the very demanding basketball season, you reached out, intertwining your delicate fingers with her calloused ones.

“hey, it’s okay. as long as i get to see you, it doesn’t matter where i am.”

that makes kate smile, her gaze breaking away from the rain-soaked parking lot. her relief only lasts a few seconds and is gone before you could even catch it. of course she was happy to just see you, but realizing her relationship with you has trickled down to these sort of meetings, it kills her.

you used to come to her games. you used to hangout with her and the team. you used to be seen in public together, when you were friends. and now, when you were supposed to be closer than ever, none of that seemed like a possibility anymore. it was killing kate. because now this was almost as good as it gets; secret meetings in an empty parking lot past ten o’clock at night.

kate remembers meeting you for the first time, how different things were then. she remembers meeting you in the warm and dim lights of the library late at night, catching up on late work and trying to escape the distractions of the dorm. but then she saw you. she really couldn’t help it when she started to stare, watching as the light and it’s shadow cast different shades of color over your face as you moved.

the library had been beautiful that time of night, kate always thought so. but not as beautiful as you.

leave the perfume on the shelf

that you picked out just for her

so you leave no trace behind

like you don’t even exist

it’d been awhile since kate even uttered your name in front of her friends. the fear of giving something away loomed over her head like a dark cloud, rain threatening to spill at any moment. it wasn’t until kate came home late after a night with you that your nervous activity started.

caitlin was sitting in the common area when kate got back, motioning her to come sit with a gentle pat of the cushion next to her. your girlfriend was in good spirits so she gave in without hesitation, coming to sit next to caitlin on the couch as she watched a late night basketball game.

“where’ve you been?” caitlin asked suspiciously, turning her nose in her friend’s direction.

“just out.”

“with y/n?”

kate goes stoic, eyes trained on the wall while her previously bouncing leg stands still. she hasn’t been expecting that, what gave it away?

“what? no, we don’t really.. hang out anymore.”

“you smell like her.” caitlin presses in dangerous territory and she knows it. you seemed to be a sensitive subject in kate’s life now, and she had no idea why.

kate shrugs before quickly standing up. she was desperate to escape from this conversation because somehow, caitlin always knows. and she can’t know about this. that’s why when kate shuts her door with a soft click she texts you immediately with a link to a new perfume, offering to buy it for you. she couldn’t tell you about what happened. you’d freak out, go into hiding away from kate for a little while.

so she doesn’t.

she buys you the new perfume and you replace it with the old one, the one that happened to be her favorite. the one she knew you used to wear just for her.

it was safer this way. caitlin couldn’t trace any scent back to you now. she couldn’t trace anything back to you anymore. a big part of kate hated that, but a smaller part of her knew it was better for you, so she settled.

take the words for what they are

a dwindling mercurial high

a drug that only worked

the first few hundred times

“kate, i just need time.”

it was a hushed whisper, one that kate has heard before. she believed it before, and part of her still does. but each time she loses hope, her fingers slip until she’s hanging on by her fingernails.

you promised kate it wouldn’t be like this forever. one day— soon you claimed, the two of you wouldn’t have to love in secret.

“kate i’ve never loved anyone the way i love you,” you’d whisper genuinely and she’d be hooked, fully trusting and forcefully patient. there was nothing she loved more than you, not even basketball, and she’d wait forever to be able to tell everyone that, even when it was having an undeniable impact on her mental state.

“i know.” she whispers back, lips moving against your skin as she tries to become one with you.

it was so hard to remember all the lost promises and time when you were holding her like this. hands in her hair, coddling against her and cradling her head into your chest. it was as if you were massaging all the past memories of empty words out of her brain, trying to make her forget about how you said all of this months ago.

and a couple months after that you’d whisper the same sweet nothings.

“you keep saying that..”

“and i mean it, kate.”

she stares at you, eyes turning to oceans full of complex and conflicting feelings. she was upset, disappointed, angry, and betrayed.

“look i understand what it’s like to come out. i’ve been there and i understand if you’re not ready, but don’t tell me you are.”

her first tear slips along with her conviction.

“kate.. i’m sorry,” you whisper, reaching out to wipe her tears away and she physically softens into your touch. “please don’t give up on me.”

and it was working again. your words, whether they were honest or not, had an affect on kate that made her stay. she’d always stay as long as you asked. somewhere deep down kate knew she was crumbling from the inside out. she was growing restless, a sinking feeling of hopelessness consuming her each time you failed to follow through on your promises. the promises you made while entangling your pinky with hers, kissing delicately along her knuckles.

and that’s the thing about illicit affairs

and clandestine meetings and stolen stares

they show their truth one single time

but they lie, and they lie, and they lie,

a million little times

kate glanced your way longingly, watching silently as you interacted with the people around you. she wished so deeply it could be her so close to you, demanding attention and hearing your sweet laugh.

but it wasn’t. and despite what you said, she knew it probably wouldn’t be her for a long time.

kate felt so real when she was with you. so pure, who she was meant to be at her core. being with you was so real for kate, all her feelings and commitments, all the promises and conflicts were real.

but it was a lie.

every time she’d avoid your gaze or pretend like she didn’t know you, it was a lie. lying to her friends about you, her family, or anyone who asked. she’d lie and say yes if anyone asked about her being single. she’d lie about you.

it drained kate. she couldn’t fathom the idea that this was all per your request. deliberate decisions made by you to deceive everyone around you. kate was like your little affair, a secret you kept hidden away from the world so you could still have your fun elsewhere.

kate was your lie, and you were hers.

when you finally made eye contact with her she broke. all her buried resentment and defeat, all the fake promises and compromises, all the secrecy, all the hurt and confusion, all the insecurity, all the buried thoughts that haunted kate glared back at you.

but she saw it in you too. the weight of your lies and the pain of the truth. not only were you lying to everyone about kate, you were lying about yourself, to yourself.

and you wanna scream

don’t call me “kid”

don’t call me “baby”

kate’s head was deep in her hands, sobbing as shaky fingers pulled at the roots of her hair. for some reason she never saw this coming. the hopeful and innocent part of kate always thought it’d work out, that you’d work it out together. like you always said.

but you’d broken up with her. the stress of your secret relationship finally catching up. this couldn’t last forever, and you realized you’d never come out like kate wanted you to. it wasn’t fair to her. it wasn’t fair to expect her to be okay with being hidden. that’s what you told yourself to feel like less of a coward.

you could see she was freaking out. it took a lot to speak again, too afraid and shameful. too scared you’d make it worse.

“baby i’m so sorry, im so sorry.”

kate squeezes her eyes shut painfully. the word rings like a mantra through her ears, seeping into her soul where it freezes her feelings and numbs her mind. she shakes her head before looking back up at you with a face contorted by hurt.

“don’t call me that.”

“kate..”

“don’t call me that. seriously.”

you stare silently, guilt-ridden eyes shamefully gazing on her soft features, made even softer by the shine of her tear-stained cheeks and red puffy eyes. this was the hardest thing you’ve ever done. looking at her made you want to change your mind, to take it all back cruelly but you knew you couldn’t.

if you couldn’t accept who you were, how could anyone else?

“how could you do this to me? c’mon, i mean, i was there, through everything. i love you with everything i have. i mean.. i can’t even.. you promised me this wouldn’t happen. you promised.”

look at this idiotic fool that you made me

you taught me a secret language i can’t speak with anyone else

kate felt like a fool. she should’ve known better.

every time she’d make a harmless joke about you being a lesbian and you denied it, she should’ve known. every time you’d claim you were ready to come out to your parents but never did, she should’ve known. she should’ve seen it coming a mile away.

she could’ve, if she hadn’t chosen willful ignorance. but she decided she would rather have your love in private than not at all.

but now she had nothing and could tell no one.

she couldn’t tell anyone about you even if it was over. but caitlin didn’t need to be told twice, or even once. she knew where kate had been going late at night, she knew about the longing looks from across the room. she also saw your text to kate asking to talk.

that’s why she slipped into her best friend’s room that night when she got back home. to hold her as she cried, tell her it was okay and she was there for her.

“i love her so much caitlin.” kate choked out, crying all over again when the image of you in her bed only a few weeks ago flashed through her brain. a cruel memory.

“i know kate. you always love too much.”

and that pattern repeated for weeks, a concerning amount of time that even caitlin was restless. it happened almost every night like clockwork; kate would get back from her self-inflicted extra practice looking exhausted and battered, fleeing to her room without a single word and about ten minutes later she’d attempt to muffle her sobs into her pillow. the pillow that somehow still smelt like the perfume kate bought you.

walking through day-to-day life became harder for kate. no one understood the stupid inside jokes you built together, or the gesture of kissing fingertips you started together.

caitlin forced her friend out into the social world and it only took one conversation to break kate down into a reminiscing mess. objectively there was nothing wrong with the girl other than the fact that she wasn’t you. no one would ever understand kate the way you had, and she’s certain no man would ever understand you the way she had.

kate had to mourn the loss of your love and the connection that came with it. the unique diction you had built together. that one of a kind love could only be found with you, the girl that denied ever loving a woman.

you were a self-proclaimed straight woman. but kate knew, behind closed doors, behind her doors, you were far from it.

and you know damn well

for you, i would ruin myself

a million little times

after awhile kate could finally claim she’d gotten better.

she was enjoying her social life again. going out to bars and clubs, going to team parties, going shopping and playing basketball. she’d even visited home, getting the secret of you off of her chest to her mother.

she slowly eased herself back into normality, following a similar routine to the one she had before you.

the issue was, kate is no longer who she was before she met you. she’d never be that rational woman again. she’d never be able to say no to you again. but that didn’t occur to her, and if it did she wouldn’t mind much because she never thought she’d have to.

it’d been months since she saw you.

but suddenly you appeared across the room, lifting your head before meeting kate’s wide eyes. she knew she was doomed when you waved, a soft smile on your face when she waved back. that lasted for a few moments; stealing glances at each other from across the room before you made your way over.

“hey kate.” it was sweet, like a voice dipped in honey.

“hey..”

“kate, i’ve really been wanting to talk to you. i’m really sorry for how everything happened.”

she looked down at you, draped in your pretty outfit with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes. you sounded so genuine, and she wondered desperately what you wanted to talk about.

“do you wanna come to my place tonight?” she asked, curious and hopeful.

“how about mine?”

“oh, yeah.. sure.”

and kate knew. she knew nothing had changed. you were still the same old you, and she was still the same old her.

she’d go through it all again for you. a million times over.

₊˚ෆ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊- ,,

okay fics inspired by songs are so good

this is my first time using the lyrics in the song and i think im shitty at it.

feedback is definitely welcomed though!

pls enjoy 😛

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Make It Up to You

1. The Studio Always Wins

The first time Marshall missed Valentine’s Day, you weren’t that mad.

You knew what you signed up for. He was an artist, and sometimes, the music pulled him in so deep that time didn’t exist. You had plans—dinner, nothing crazy—but when you texted to check in, all you got back was:

"Shit, babe. I lost track of time. Rain check?"

You sighed, rolling your eyes, but you let it slide. He made it up to you the next day with takeout and an apology that was equal parts sheepish and charming.

2. Tour Chaos

The second time, he was on tour.

You didn’t even expect much, just a damn phone call. But the hours passed, and nothing. Not a text, not a voicemail, just radio silence.

It wasn’t until the next morning that he called, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.

"Fuck, baby, I’m sorry. The show ran late, then interviews, then—"

"You forgot," you finished for him, trying not to sound as disappointed as you felt.

He groaned. "I didn’t forget. I just—"

"Got caught up," you muttered.

He swore under his breath. "I’ll make it up to you when I get home."

And he did. But still.

3. Dad Duty

The third time, you actually couldn’t be mad.

Hailie had gotten sick, and Marshall stayed up with her all night, rubbing her back, keeping a cool cloth on her forehead, murmuring soft reassurances until she finally fell asleep.

You had watched from the doorway, your heart aching in the best way.

When he finally crawled into bed, exhausted, he pulled you close and mumbled, "Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. Sorry I suck."

You just kissed his temple. "You don’t suck."

And this time, you meant it.

4. The Fight

The fourth time, you weren’t even together.

You and Marshall had been fighting—a bad one. Words neither of you meant had been thrown around, and you decided to spend some time apart.

He called that night, voice quieter than usual. "I know I ain’t got the right to ask, but… are you with someone?"

Your heart clenched. "No, Marshall."

A beat of silence. Then:

"Good. ‘Cause I still plan on fixin’ this."

And he did. Eventually.

5. The Overcorrection

The fifth time, he tried.

He booked a fancy restaurant, got you a gift, even wrote a card. But on the way there, a fan spotted him, and within minutes, the entire street knew where he was.

Dinner turned into a spectacle, people taking pictures, approaching the table, asking for autographs. He saw the moment you deflated, your excitement fading into quiet resignation.

And that? That killed him.

On the way home, he squeezed your hand. "Baby, I’m sorry."

You forced a smile. "It’s okay, Marshall."

But it wasn’t. Not to him.

+1: The One Time He Got It Right

The sixth time, he made damn sure nothing got in the way.

No studio. No tour. No distractions.

When you woke up, the house was quiet, but the smell of coffee and something sweet filled the air. You wandered into the kitchen to find Marshall standing at the stove, flipping pancakes, his hoodie hanging loose on his frame.

"Happy Valentine’s Day," he murmured, setting a plate down in front of you.

You blinked. "You cooked?"

He smirked. "Don’t look so surprised."

You sat down, shaking your head with a small laugh. "I wasn’t expecting… this."

Marshall leaned on the counter, watching you. "I know I fucked up a lot of ‘em. But this year, I wanted to get it right." He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted to show you that you’re my priority, baby. Always."

Your chest tightened.

This wasn’t about grand gestures. It wasn’t about fancy dinners or gifts. It was this—him showing up, being present, making sure you felt loved.

You pushed your plate aside, stood up, and wrapped your arms around his neck. "You got it right, Marshall."

And when he kissed you, slow and deep, you knew—late or not—he had always been worth the wait.

[paiges-1vur]

pt. 1. | from across the crowd.. as always, enjoy loves <3 *prologue posted* 🏀⚡️🪩

“what.. you guys, why are you all looking at me like that!” my words led to only more strange looks. my friends all sat around me, mouths open. “tiff. oh my gosh. are you joking!” my friends all start bombarding me with insults and “i can’t believe you’s”

i seriously had no clue this girl even existed until my friends had shown me her.. ten minutes before the game started. while i didn’t even know of her existence, my friends seemed to know her whole life story.

“okay guys but should i put it on?” i ask the group around me. i mean, i was genuinely cold. i had goosebumps forming on my arms and legs from how cold it was in the stadium. i should have noticed something was off when i left my apartment and nobody else was in going out clothes.

my closest friend madisen, who also seemed to know the most about paige encouraged me to put it on. “she wouldn’t have given it to you if she didn’t want you to wear it.. right?” she says shrugging. i slowly pull the hoodie over my head, immediately feeling warmed up.

the hoodie says uconn basketball on it, and has paiges number and last name on it. im immediately flooded by her scent. she smells… really good. like a mix of musk, wood, and smoke. as the rest of the game plays out all i can think about is the fact that i’m wearing her hoodie. i didn’t want the moment to ever end. but it unfortunately did when the buzzer sounded and Uconn was announced the winner.

me and my friends decided to stick around after the game for a little while. they got up to throw out our trash, and empty drink cans while i tried to find paige. i wanted to thank her for lending me her hoodie. its the least i could have done.

as i get up to search for paige, i see her walk out of the locker room.. and walking up to me. she was smiling, standing in front of me, practically towering over me. to be fair, i am 4’11 but that is only due to terrible genetics, and a very short mother. “hey” is all she says, but its enough to make my heart beat faster.

“hey, your name is… paige right?” i say to her smiling innocently, pausing before saying her name, not sure if i had remembered it totally correctly. honestly i could forget my own name right now if she asked me for it. she laughs slightly before responding, “yea thats my name, you remember me?”

I try to play it cool. “well my friends wouldnt shut up about you the whole game” i say laughing. “i didnt even know who you were before i got here.. well they dragged me here, and then almost killed me when i didnt know who you were. long story” i say, trying to explain the crazy night i’ve had. she laughed harder than me, surprised at my confession. “oh.. so you’re telling me you just showed up here, not even knowing who i was?”

im slightly embarrassed, and i hope its not showing on my cheeks. “well.. I’ve never been a fan of basketball, so my friends knew i wouldnt come to the game. they told me we were going out to the bars tonight, and dragged me here. that’s why i was wearing such a… revealing outfit before you gave me your hoodie. bad outfit planning on my part. and yea to be honest i had never heard of you in my life” I try to explain clearly, but I’m not even sure if i believe this all happened in one night.

“oh, wow so you really had no idea who i was?” she sounds almost surprised at this fact. “no.. not really, why?” I say, a slight bit confused. i wonder if i should have known her.

“oh, here’s your hoodie, by the way” i say, pulling it off and folding it into my hands. im now left in ny old outfit. my jean mini skirt and Uconn tank top leave quite frankly, little to the imagination. im not very proud of how i look in this moment, but the least i can do is give paige her hoodie back. “nah, don’t worry about it you can keep it. you look..” her eyes roam my body quickly, “cold anyway. and it looks better on you than me.” i smile at her and slip it back on. the hoodie reaches my mid thigh, its so oversized. “thank you so much- again im so sorry i didn’t know the stadiums were so.. cold oh my gosh.” i say laughing.

she laughs too, looking down at me and smiling. she bites her lip, like shes thinking hard about something before she speaks again. “can i, ask you a question?” im suddenly intrigued why paige bueckers would want to ask me a question but i bite. “yea sure, go ahead.” i say smiling at her, awaiting her next words.

“you probably have a boyfriend.. right?”

[tooturtly]

Thinking about how the origin of Harrow and Gideon’s fucked up relationship (you know, being children in the Ninth House) actually adds a lot of context to exactly why they are like that, but because it’s technically not on the page it’s harder to understand.

In anthropology and associated fields there’s a term called “habitus” that I think is useful for this discussion (I also like spreading anthropology bc this is the brainrot impacting the course of my career). This is an academic way of saying behavior that is so ingrained, so habitual, it doesn’t even require thought or pass any level of notice. How you walk is an example of habitus, how you chop vegetables, how you enter a room, what clothes you pick for certain occasions, literally anything you can do could be an example of habitus.

Humans are hardwired to learn, we are constantly picking up cues from the people and society around us from the moment we are born until the moment we die. We do it so much and so easily that we don’t notice unless it’s very overt, like someone holding your hand and explaining how to do something. Even then you will subconsciously pick up the ways that person does things, making it your own habitus.

For Gideon and Harrow, their habitus is different from our own as the readers, because habitus is deeply cultural, it comes from mirroring the behaviors around you. They have been taught how to act, how to speak, how to think in the ways of the Ninth, no matter how willingly or unwillingly they learned.

They weren’t born with a deeply antagonistic relationship, it was taught to them. Harrow was taught to uphold the Ninth, to give her entire life to it, to die for it so that the cost of her birth can be worth it. Her parents also modeled a strong aversion to Gideon. To avoid, to belittle, to ignore her so that they can ignore the generation they sold to keep the line of the Tombkeepers. Harrow obviously picked up this behavior, modeling it as she picked up the mantle of running the Ninth House at all of ten years old (which is insane by the way. Let’s take a moment for ten year old Harrow, a literal child who just watched her parents kill themselves and their cavalier and who expected her to kill herself, who had to pick up the pieces and try to do what they had modeled for her).

And then we have Gideon: a child (she’s still a teen in Nona, she hasn’t aged past 19) who at first wanted to fit in, who still desperately craves acceptance and intimacy, but who has been ignored, belittled, and abused her whole life. Who then gets that behavior repeated by the only peer she could possibly have.

She became a self fulfilling prophecy. She was treated as a nuisance who can do no right, so that’s what she became. She was punished either way for existing, so she did what was expected. Just as Harrow did what was expected of her in her roles, Gideon acted like what Crux saw in her.

They were both children failed in so many ways by the adults around them. Even Aiglamene couldn’t support Gideon wholly without going against the rulers of her house. So because they were children, they did what was modeled and taught to them. They fulfilled the prophecies laid out by the adults in their lives.

They, so far, have continued the cycles of abuse they were taught. Even in Nona, Kiriona is modeling the pain and anguish she has experienced all her life, now with the addition of Ianthe’s perspective on her life influencing her. (Ianthe comes from a vastly different cultural background, and hasn’t been inside either of their minds, so her interpretation of their relationship and the culturally appropriate response is wildly different from either of their readings of it)

It almost reminds me of Wuthering Heights, how to truly break the cycle you have to let the past go and find someplace new. But that’s just another series with vaguely religious undertones and some weird abuse and incestuous dynamics, likely completely unrelated. (Note, I haven’t read wuthering heights in a hot minute, but when I did I saw it as more a story of inter generational violence rather than as romantic love, so take my thoughts with some salt)

The toxic, antagonistic, and later interdependent (though the antagonism is also interdependent) relationship between Gideon and Harrow doesn’t have to continue. They can break the cycle. The cycle that strongly parallels John and Alecto in many ways. I hope they do. But their relationship as it is makes sense if you consider both characters, how they were raised, and how they were taught to act, without necessarily saying that one character or the other is evil/corrupt/the relationship is unsalvageable.

The cultural layers included in tlt are vital to unpacking the characters, and their relationships. We don’t always get it overtly because we’re inside the characters minds, but there’s important stuff included in there. To unpack all of it would take probably a dissertation of length and then you’d still miss some, but I have tried my best.

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐥

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: SEUNGMIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: VAMPIRE!SEUNGMIN, HIGH FAE!READER, FEM!READER, ARRANGED MARRIAGE, RUNNING AWAY, CHEATING?, BLOOD/BLOOD KINK, FIRST TIME/VIRGINITY TAKING, BITING, PRAISE, ORAL (F. RECIEVING), FINGERING, PET NAMES (PRINCESS,), UNPROTECTED SEX, ROUGH, CREAMPIE, POSSESSIVE SEUNGMIN IF YOU SQUINT  ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.5K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Both of them would have been killed if anyone found out. He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near their land, let alone their realm. Nor was she supposed to be near his. 

     Y/n was always curious about everything in the land. And far beyond it too. Maybe that’s why she found herself in the mortal realm one night. Wandering the streets, admiring what it was like to be human without the responsibilities of a high fae set to wed in a year and a half. 

     A marriage she didn’t wish for. If she went through, she would be this king's fifth wife, much younger than his others from the rumors. She despised the thought of being with an elf that cared little for his lovers and more about his power. She wanted to escape. 

     Maybe that's why she believed Seungmin found her that night. The reality was he was going home and smelled her blood, non-human blood. His curiosity drew him to her. Maybe it shouldn’t have, but those elf ears and beautiful eyes lured him in. 

     He never believed elves were real, even though he was a supernatural being and shouldn’t exist. But when he met Y/n, the vampire was far more smitten than he had ever been in his long life. 

     She’d sneak over to the mortal realm every couple of days to see him. Enjoying the night and company before she returned home. Those mortal realm escapades turned into crossing borders deep in the woods where no one patrolled. Smiling and laughing. Maybe wanting more. 

     It was one kiss that sparked it. Seungmin never made a move until she did. She leaned in one night before he returned home and pecked his lips. Both were gone from that moment. 

     All those every-other-day escapades turned into every day. Sneaking out of the castle and into the arms of a vampire. One she felt safe and loved with. Enjoying the time they had when in a little over six months, they would stop this and she would be married off to a man who sought power more than anything. 

     “Run away with me,” Seungmin suggested as they lay on the forest floor, wrapped in each other’s arms. 

     “Easier said than done,” Y/n sighed as she played with his fingers. 

     “You sneak out every night. Just don’t go back,” Seungmin told her

     “Where would we go?” Y/n sat up and looked down at him

     “Away from the woods that way no elf can drag you back. We’ll figure it out,” Seungmin smiled 

     “Min—“

     “Please Y/n. You’re the first good thing I’ve had in centuries. I don’t want to give you up,” Seungmin sat up with her and pulled her onto his lap, her legs laying on either side of his. His hands holding her hips. “Please. Run away with me?”

     “Let me think about it?” Y/n asked holding his face

     “Of course,” Seungmin turned his head and kissed her wrist, lingering a bit, fighting his thoughts. 

     “Min?” Y/n drew him out 

     “I'm fine,” Seungmin cleared his throat, “You should go back. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

     “You're hungry, aren't you?” Y/n knew his tricks when he was hungry for blood—lingering on kisses, zoning out, pushing her home. 

     “I’ll be fine till I get back. Don't worry,” Seungmin reassured her

     “You know you can drink from me, right? Don't suffer on my behalf.”

     “No. I can’t.”

     “Why not?”

     “I wouldn’t let you go back if I did.”

     The look in his eyes was serious. He wasn’t going to let her go if he drank from her.  

     “Would you ever? Drink from me?”

     “I fantasize about it, honestly. Every night I wonder what if you taste as sweet as you smell. But I’m not risking someone seeing the mark. Not until I have you fully to myself,” Seungmin hugged her close to him, head resting against her chest. 

     Seungmin, though he didn’t say it often, loved her. If his heart could beat, it would for her. He struggled every night not to take her away from her world. Hiding her away from it. 

     “Tomorrow. Let’s go,” Y/n said after a few beats of silence

     Seungmin lifted his head to look at her. “I thought you were going to think about it?”

     “I did. Min, the option has always been you. No one and nothing else.”

     Y/n leaned down and kissed the vampire under her. Seungmin immediately kissed her back with a smile. Lips molding together before pulling away. 

     “Go back before you get caught. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Seungmin gave her one last kiss before sending her home and crossing the border back to his realm. He knew in less than twenty-four hours he’d finally be able to bring her home. 

     Seungmin spent his waiting time— after eating of course— making sure he had a place set up for them. At least for a week or two till they found something permanent. Thankful Chan had offered him a place in the city away from any woods so no fae came after them. Better than the small town he was in near the woods. 

     He made sure the place was set up before making the drive to their spot. quite early so he waited until the time to cross. He was just in time to see her walking to their spot too. She smiled wide when she saw him—dropping what she was carrying and running to him. 

     Seungmin caught her as she wrapped her arms around him. “I missed you,” Y/n mumbled into his shoulder

     “It’s been a day,” Seungmin chuckled

     “I know,” Y/n looked up at him, holding his face in her hands, “But the idea of no longer sneaking out to be with you made it seem longer.”

     “Don't start crying,” Seungmim smiled as he noticed tears threatening to fall from her lash line, “we have an eternity together.”

     “Let’s go then.”

     Seungmin grabbed the back she had dropped and took her hand, leading her beyond the barrier between realms for the final time. Seungmin was quick to pull her to the car and get them out of the woods. Driving into the city took a couple of hours but neither of them cared. 

     Seungmin held her hand the whole drive until they got to the apartment building. He pulled the car into the parking garage and parked it. 

     “You’re sure about spending eternity with me?” Seungmin kissed her knuckles

     “It was either you or someone I’d meet on the day of my wedding. I’d choose you in any life,” Y/n assured him. 

     Seungmin pulled her in for a kiss before getting out of the car. He met her on the passenger side as she closed the door. Seungmin smiled as he pinned her up against the car and placed his lips on hers. 

     Y/n melted against him as he held her hips, her own hands on his biceps. He bit her lower lip before letting go and pulling away. 

     “Let’s go home,” Seungmin pulled away and grabbed her bag out of the back seat. 

     “I hate when you do that,” Y/n groaned as they headed into the elevator. 

     “Well, we have all night and day to make up for every time I've left you sexually frustrated at me,” Seungmin chuckled as the doors closed behind them and he pulled her into his chest. 

     “That's about half a year's worth,” Y/n told him

     “Would’ve been less if we didn't stop that one night,” Seungmin leaned down, lips grazing hers

     “Hm. I was under the impression at the time I was still going to be married off and had to stay pure,” Y/n told him as the elevator dinged on their floor

     “Not anymore,” Seungmin pecked her lips before picking her up and walking out of the elevator. 

     Y/n wrapped her legs and arms around him and giggled. She never thought she’d be as happy as she was. Let alone with a vampire of all creatures. 

     Seungmin set her down momentarily to unlock the door and dragged her inside. Tossing the bag down somewhere before pushing her up against the closed door and letting his lips attach to hers again. 

     Y/n held the nape of his neck as she returned the kiss. His tongue ran across her lip and she let him inside. Their tongues danced around each other for a moment before he pulled back and picked her back up. Legs wrapping around his waist. 

     “All mine now,” his kisses ran down from her jaw to her collarbones and back up. 

     One kiss lingered for a second at her pulse point. Y/n looked down at him as she tangled her fingers in his hair.

     “Can I?” it was a vague question but they both knew exactly what was being asked

     “Yes.” There wasn't a need to think about it either. She’d permitted him the prior night but he still asked

     Seungmin kissed the skin one more time as his fangs made their appearance. “Tell me if it's too much,” He told her, hands holding her hips.

     “Alright,” Y/n replied as the tips of his fangs tickled her skin. 

     A moment later they sank into her neck. The warm blood flowed into his mouth as she gripped his hair. Letting out a moan and squeezing her legs tighter. Never did she believe him when he said a vampire bite could be so pleasure-inducing. 

     “Min,” Y/n groaned as he pulled his teeth out of her and licked the wound, picking up stray drops of blood. 

     “Taste just as sweet as you smell,” His voice was low in her ears. 

     Y/n crashed her lips onto his in haste. “Need you,” she mumbled against his lips. The slightest taste of blood was still there. 

      He didn't waste time moving them to the bedroom, as messy as the walk was. He finally got them there, a big of clothing having been shed along the way— his sweater and t-shirt, her corset (which he ripped off since he was far too impatient to untie), and her shirt as well.

     Seungmin laid her down on the bed as his lips moved to her neck and down to her bare chest. “So gorgeous.” he moaned as his tongue flicked her nipples and his hands worked on getting rid of her bottoms. 

     Y/n watched as he tossed the rest of her clothing off as he got lower to where she needed him. Lips grazing over her clit and making her squirm under him. His eyes met hers for a moment as he smirked. 

     A moment later he had thrown her legs over his shoulders and was making out with her cunt while two fingers were scissoring her open. One hand tangled in his dark locks while the other covered her mouth. Any noise that wanted to come out was blocked. 

     Seungmin caught sight of it as he glanced up at her. He took his free hand off her thigh and took her hand from her mouth, intertwining their fingers as their hands and laying them on the bed sheets. 

     He pulled away from her clit for a moment. “I wanna hear you, princess,” He started before diving back in. 

     “Oh fuck,” she moaned as his fingers curled up into her walls at just the right spot. Her legs closed around his head as her back arched up off the bed. 

     Seungmin pressed against the spot again as he sucked on her clit. A moment later the knot snapped and she came on his fingers. Seungmin pulled his fingers out of her and licked her clean. Letting his lips guide down onto her inner thighs, teeth growing once again before sinking them into the skin. Y/n tugged on his hair, rolling her hips a bit before he came up. Smiling as he ran his tongue along his teeth and lips, swallowing more of the crimson liquid

     He pushed her legs down onto the mattress and made haste to remove his pants and boxers. It didn’t take him more than a minute before the remaining fabric was gone, joining the rest on the floor. Y/n scanned over his body, the tips of her pointy ears turning red as she caught sight of his hard cock. 

     “We can stop if you’re not comfortable,” Seungmin assured her as he leaned down and kissed her neck

     Y/n shook her head, “I want this. I want you,” she told him

     He lifted his head and kissed her lips again. Gentle. Passionate. His hands cradled her head before he pulled away. Y/n chased his lips for a moment before falling back onto the mattress. 

     “I’ll go slow,” Seungmin pecked her lips as he moved to line himself up at her entrance. Running the tip of his cock through her slick and using his hand to spread it along his length before he pushed the tip in. 

     Y/n gripped his arms as she felt the stretch. “Fuck,” she whined 

     “I’ve got you, princess,” Seungmin held her hips and rubbed circles into the skin as he gave her a moment to adjust. He kissed her neck to distract her as he slowly pushed in again. 

     Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck to anchor herself. It was an addicting feeling of pain and pleasure. Especially when she felt his teeth sink into her for a third time. 

     She moaned loudly from the pleasure of his bite. Seungmin used the opportunity to push all the way in. Sheathing himself inside her. Y/n pulled at his hair as he took his teeth out of her. Licking the spot and returning to kissing her neck as he slowly pulled out and played back in. 

     “Feel and tastes so fucking good,” Seungmim groaned as he accidentally delivered a very harsh thrust.

     “Min,” Y/n moaned, not in pain. 

     Seungmin repeated the action once more, watching her throw her head back into the pillow. He smiled, pulling her legs up around his waist and grabbed her hands, interlacing their fingers as he pinned them down next to her head, roughly thrusting into her. 

     “Who knew my little princess was gonna like it rough,” Seungmin chuckled as he pounded into her. 

      Her walls clenched around him as he continued on. Leaning down to kiss her neck and bite into her shoulder. That bite seemed to break the knot that was forming in her lower stomach. Her legs tightened around him as her walls spasmed around his twitching cock. 

     Seungmin kept his pace as best he could. Hips stuttered a bit as he pulled his teeth out of her. A few more thrusts of fucking her through her high and he was stilling deep inside her. Come painting her walls white as both caught their breaths. 

     Seungmim pulled out of her once he calmed down. He pressed a quick kiss onto her lips before getting off the bed and grabbing a warm rag to clean her up and grabbing some water. 

     “Sorry for biting you so much,” Seungmin apologized as he pulled her into his arms after cleaning the both of them up. 

     “I don't mind. It felt good,” Y/n smiled and kissed his neck, “thank you.”

     “For what?”

     “Taking me away. They moved up the wedding to next month,”

     “Hm. You don't need to worry about that anymore. You’re safe with me.”

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