#was it 7 years or 9 i can’t remember

[tabbytiger]

Also I’m not even depressed or su***dal.

I’ve just been bored and uninterested in doing anything even eating. I’ve just been skipping meals for a day or two because I’m bored and or when I take a bite of something I immediately lose interest and I just ignore the hunger pangs.

I’ve spent entire days, DAYS, lying in bed in the same position bc I had no energy or motivation to move or get up. Even trying to sit up or at least go to a different room has been difficult. And this specifically have been happening since at least last November, BEFORE I got on adderall.

Even WITH adderall its not doing anything for me other than I think triggering pyschosis bc its a side effect.

I’ve been trembling the past few days too. The dude at the dmv that takes the finger print had to hold my finger down for me bc I couldn’t hold it still 😭 he asked me to redo it like 3 times before finally just grabbing my hand.

If this keeps happening I’mma need them to take me off adderall bc its actively making my psychosis act up. Like I’ve been thinking of lying in my bathtub in the dark at night during an episode because I feel so unsafe in my own bedroom and house. And normal coping methods I usually do are not doing anything. I haven’t used the fucking ‘lock myself in my bathroom and curl up in a fetal position while rocking back and forth’ strategy since elementary school. Except its gonna be in my pc room cuz thats the only fucking door down here with a lock that requires a key to open 😭. If I ask for a lock on my bedroom door my parents are going to call me insane and ridiculous and to stop being paranoid 🥴. Like girl I’m trying thats why I need a lock.

I can’t keep passing out from panic and stress and not remembering falling asleep bro.

[catastrxblues]

good morning it is now 4 am and i have just finished watching atonement good night

[lanf1an]

SEASONS lando norris x fewtrell sister pt.1 - january 5 2025 The annual family ski trip was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. There was something about this trip that always felt like coming home—the crisp mountain air, the cozy lodge that hadn’t changed a bit since you were kids, and the chaotic mix of your two families under one roof.

hope people will find this, made a sideblog for this, havent used tumblr in a while, feel free to send any suggestions to improve the lay-out/blog etc. Also let me know if you think this chapter is too long. I've already written many parts so will update regularly if people like it.

pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10

wordcount: 2322

The annual family ski trip was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. There was something about this trip that always felt like coming home—the crisp mountain air, the cozy lodge that hadn’t changed a bit since you were kids, and the chaotic mix of your two families under one roof.

You hadn’t seen your twin brother and Pietra in weeks, since they had decided to spent the holidays in Brazil, and you were itching to catch up. You also hadn’t seen the whole Norris family since Abu Dhabi, which had been an absolute blast. You’d meet up with Flo and Cisca regularly in London, having spent Christmas and New Years together, but the whole family being together was a rarity. This year felt extra special, though—it was the first time Dylan was coming along.

Your boyfriend of nearly a year had fit seamlessly into your life back home, and now he was finally meeting the entire crew. Max already got along with him like a house on fire, and you couldn’t wait for him to meet everyone else.

“Stil the same old place. Can’t wait to hit the slopes” Max said looking around with a grin. “You better teach me some sick board tricks this trip Dyl” he continued. “Only if you’re ready to fall on your ass,” Dylan shot back with a laugh. “Careful, Max is competitive,” you teased, they all laughed, Dylan was actually a professional snowboarder, making it that much funnier. 

The Fewtrells had arrived at the lodge first, giving you a chance to show Dylan around before everyone else got there. The house was as you remembered—wood-paneled walls, mismatched furniture, and warm fires crackling in every hearth.

“This is where you grew up skiing?” Dylan asked as you led him upstairs, his snowboard bag slung casually over his shoulder.

“Pretty much. Max and I used to share this room—” you pushed open a door, looking at him slyly, excited to share the room with him this time. The room smelled faintly of cedar, its twin beds still adorned with the same plaid comforters you’d had as kids.

“It’s nice,” Dylan said, setting his bag down and pulling you into his arms. “Cozy. Definitely feels like you.”

Before you could reply, his lips brushed yours, a warm and familiar kiss that made your heart flutter as his hands brushed through your hair, leading you towards the bed. Before things could go further, a loud voice broke the moment. “Fewtrell!” Cisca called from downstairs, followed by Flo’s laughter.

You turned, rolling your eyes affectionately. “Let’s go. You’ll love this chaos.”

Downstairs, the Norris family was filing in, luggage and snow-dusted boots piling up in the entryway. Lando appeared last, hauling a duffel bag with one hand and ski equipment in the other.

“Landooo!” you and Max called out in unison, both running to greet him.“Can’t even drop my stuff first?” Lando teased, dropping the bag with an exaggerated groan as you pulled him into a hug.“Ah, our world champion has arrived,” your dad said, stepping forward with a warm smile. “Welcome back, Lando. Well-deserved break, eh?” “Something like that,” Lando said, grinning as he accepted the handshake. “Nothing beats this place, though.”

“Lando, this is Dylan,” you said, gesturing between them. Dylan extended a hand. “Good to finally meet you. She’s told me a lot about you.” “All good things, I hope,” Lando replied with a polite smile, shaking his hand.“Mostly,” Dylan teased, earning a laugh from everyone. Max threw an arm around Dylan’s shoulders. “You’re in for it now, Lando. Dylan’s a beast on the slopes. Red Bull-sponsored and everything.” “Oh, so I’m not the only sponsored athlete here?” Lando said, his tone light but with a playful edge. It was a miracle Max and Lando hadn’t killed each other yet, being as competitive as they are. Dylan grinned. “Guess not. Maybe we should race to see who’s faster.” “Careful what you wish for, even beat Red Bull this year” Lando shot back.

That night, as wine flowed and the parents went to bed early, the kids stayed up playing cards, laughing over inside jokes, and planning the next day’s ski routes.

—

The next morning, you woke to the sound of muffled voices drifting up from the kitchen and the faint smell of coffee brewing. Dylan was still sound asleep, his arm draped over your waist. Careful not to wake him, you slid out of bed, threw on a sweater, and made your way downstairs.

Max and Lando were already up, bundled in their ski gear, arguing over who would get to claim the fastest run of the day.

"Morning," Lando said, looking up from lacing his boots. His grin was warm and easy, the kind of smile that had been the same since he was a kid.

"Morning," you replied, grabbing a mug of coffee and leaning against the counter. "You two sound like you're gearing up for a war, not a ski day."

"It is a war," Max declared dramatically, waving a spatula he’d been using to flip pancakes. "Do you remember the incident of 2016?"

"How could I forget?" you said, laughing. "Lando sulking for hours after you beat his time."

"Exactly. Redemption arc starts today," Lando shot back, a playful glint in his eye.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help smiling. It was moments like these—carefree and full of banter—that reminded you why these trips meant so much.

After breakfast, you, Dylan, and the rest of the group gathered outside, ready to hit the slopes. The sky was a perfect shade of blue, the snow pristine under the morning sun. The energy was contagious, with everyone laughing and joking as they strapped into their skis or boards.

You and Lando split from the main group, both opting for skis while the others took their boards, eager to get tips from Dylan.

“Still as bad at snowboarding as you were at 12?” you teased as the two of you rode the lift up the mountain.

“Not everyone can be a prodigy like you,” Lando quipped, pretending to be offended. “Besides, I’d rather stick to what I’m good at—like beating you down this run.”

“You wish,” you shot back, nudging his arm as the lift slowed.

When you reached the top, it was as if no time had passed at all. Skiing with Lando had always been your thing, a tradition as old as the ski trips themselves. You raced down the slope, weaving between trees and laughing like kids again. At the bottom, you both collapsed into the snow, breathless and grinning.

“Still got it,” Lando said, brushing snow off his jacket.

“I let you win,” you replied, but your smile gave you away.

“I’ve missed this,” you said, lying back in the snow.

“What, losing to me?” Lando teased, throwing a handful of snow in your direction.

You took a break at a skilodge for drinks, glad it wasn’t crowded, texting the rest of the group to join them if they were close.

“It’s so weird how we haven’t actually caught up properly since Abu Dhabi,” you said, getting comfortable and sipping your drink.

— Abu Dhabi december 8 2024

The club was electric—music pulsing through the air, bodies packed tight, and the sharp tang of spilled drinks mingling with the faint scent of expensive cologne. It was the kind of night where everything felt larger than life, McLaren world championship, even as it blurred at the edges.

Lando wasn’t entirely sure how many drinks he’d had. Enough that the world tilted slightly, enough that his usual sharp instincts were dulled to a pleasant fuzziness. He wasn’t really thinking about anything in particular, just letting himself float with the energy of the room.

That’s when he saw her.

She was by the bar, her hair catching the lights in a way that felt achingly familiar. Without even realizing it, his feet carried him toward her. The closer he got, the more the resemblance struck him.

“Hey” he called softly as he approached.

The girl turned, and for a moment, he was convinced it was her. But then she smiled—wide, flirtatious, not the kind of smile she would have given him—and he blinked, the illusion shattering.

It wasn't her. Not exactly. But the resemblance was uncanny enough to send a strange shiver through him.

Still, they started talking. She was funny in a way that felt effortless, her voice cutting through the pounding bass of the music. It wasn’t long before they moved to the dance floor, their movements fluid, fueled by alcohol and the frenetic energy of the night.

Somewhere in the haze of music and lights, Lando leaned in and kissed her.

The kiss was brief but intoxicating, her lips soft and eager. For a moment, Lando let himself sink into it, into the rush of the night, the distraction she provided. But something far away tugged at the edge of his drunken consciousness.

“Lando!”

He pulled back sharply, turning to see Max weaving through the crowd toward him. His expression was one of mild exasperation but mostly confusion.

“Mate,” Max said, his voice slightly slurred, though his amusement was clear. He looked from Lando to the girl, then back again, his eyebrows shooting up. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Lando asked, putting his hands up in the air, suddenly self-defensive.

Max gestured at the girl, a bemused grin tugging at his lips. “I thought you were kissing my sister! She looks like my sister. Like, exactly like my sister. But—” He looked at her again, his grin faltering. “Also not. It’s weird, mate.”

The girl frowned, her arms crossing over her chest. “Okay, rude.”

“No offense,” Max said quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “You’re gorgeous, but I mean, come on.” He turned to Lando, shaking his head. “How drunk are you right now?”

Lando blinked, his mind scrambling to catch up. He looked at the girl again, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. Now that Max had pointed it out, the similarities felt too stark, too deliberate, explaining why it had felt weird.

“I wasn’t—” he started, but Max cut him off.

“Relax, mate,” Max said with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. “I get it. Long season, wild night. Just...you know, maybe cool it before you confuse yourself more.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m getting a drink.” She disappeared into the crowd, leaving the two of them standing there.

Max watched her go, then turned back to Lando, his grin softening into something more understanding. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Lando said quickly, still in a confused haze.

Max tilted his head, studying him for a moment before shrugging. “Let’s go find my real sister,” he said, steering Lando toward the other side of the club. “She’s way better company than, uh...that.”

Lando didn’t argue, but as they walked, his thoughts remained tangled. Max was right—the resemblance had been unsettling, bothering him for a moment until Max handed him another tequila shot.

—

Lando smirked. “Well, whose fault is that? You disappeared halfway through the after-party. Left me stranded with Max and his endless tequila shots.”

You laughed, holding your drink in both hands. “I didn’t disappear! I was there—you just didn’t see me because you were busy being... you know, Lando.”

“Excuse me,” he said, mock-offended. “What does that mean?”

“It means you were too busy making rounds like the social butterfly you are. Max told me you didn’t even remember half the night.”

Lando groaned, tipping his head back. “That’s fair. I think I blanked out the moment Christian Horner started karaoke.”

You grinned. “See? That’s why I disappeared. I had better things to do, like chatting with some of the Red Bull team.”

“Ah, fraternizing with the enemy,” Lando teased. “You’re lucky Max didn’t disown you.”

“Oh, Max was fine. But you know what?” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “There was this moment… when I was talking to a certain very famous actor.”

“Who?” Lando asked, curious.

Your lips curved into a sly smile. “Not telling. But for just a second, I thought, Wow, if I weren’t with Dylan, this would be my chance.”

Lando froze mid-sip, raising a brow. “Wait, seriously?”

“Totally kidding,” you said quickly, though the grin didn’t falter. “Kind of. I mean, it’s not every day you get hit on by a Hollywood A-lister.”

Lando set his glass down, leaning forward. “Okay, now you have to tell me who it was.”

“Never,” you said, laughing. “I’ll take that secret to my grave. But don’t worry, Dylan has nothing to worry about. Besides, you were the one getting up to trouble that night.”

“Trouble?” he asked innocently.

You gave him a knowing look. “You know, with that girl who looked like me.”

Lando’s grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “Oh, come on. Max won’t let me live that down. And for the record, I wasn’t the one who said she looked like you. He did.”

“Still, Lando,” you said, shaking your head with a teasing smile. “That’s a bit weird, even for you.”

“Hey, I was drunk,” he defended, running a hand through his hair. “And she didn’t look that much like you.”

“She could’ve been my long-lost triplet!”

“Okay, maybe a little,” he admitted sheepishly. “But I wasn’t exactly seeing straight. You can blame Max and his tequila shots for the whole situation.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “Fine, fine. But if Max thinks you’re weird, you know it’s bad.”

Lando sighed dramatically. “Remind me why I put up with you again?”

“Because you love me,” you quipped, raising your glass in a mock toast.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, clinking his glass with yours. You settled back into your seats, the laughter fading into a comfortable silence, both of you enjoyed, relaxed, content and tired after skiing.

—

Let me know what you think!!

[eternally-racing]

baby steps | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo) 

genre: fluff

warnings: none 

word count: 2.5k

summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?

note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !

---

When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Lando’s races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing. 

The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad you’ve ever seen, giving into your daughter’s every whim. It’s exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain. 

“Say goodbye to daddy!” you say as you pick up your daughter’s hand to make her wave. 

You can see the way the wheels are turning in Lando’s head as he stays frozen in the entryway. He’s not forgetting anything, there’s no way he could with your packing lists that he’s used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.

“Y/N I - , I don’t know anymore about this,” Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening. 

“Lan, cmon now, I can’t have two babies in this house at once.” you joke as you pinch his cheek. “But seriously, you’re gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. I’m only a phone call away all the time if you need me. You’re going to be great and we’re cheering you on from here. I’ll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so it’ll feel like you’re still with us.”

While Piper can’t talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Lando’s eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults don’t notice. 

“What if Piper can’t fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before I’m gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?” 

“First off, I have memorized “the Rainbow Fish” perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. She’s not going to walk because she’s barely 8 months old. And lastly, she’s not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?” 

Lando doesn’t miss a beat when he says “always.” 

You hand your daughter off to Lando’s arms in exchange for the carry on that’s currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever she’s in her dad’s arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando. 

“Plus I think she’s in that phase where she’s starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bug” you tease as you squish your daughter’s cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldn’t he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport. 

Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.

 “Don’t worry Pipes, we’re going to see daddy sooner than you think,” you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.

—

The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many people’s minds. That’s what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. It’s no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says “This one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piper” over the radio, it brings tears to everyone’s eyes. 

Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. It’s absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him. 

But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. You’re a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. It’s like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Lando’s direction. Lando immediately stops everything he’s doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both. 

“Oh my god, you’re here.”  Lando lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again. 

“There’s no way we were going to miss daddy’s first race of the season. Congratulations, babe” 

Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that he’s at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if he’s ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now. 

When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Lando’s helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that she’s going to want to keep playing when you get home. You’re the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know you’re outnumbered. 

“Keep her safe, Lan, okay?” It’s a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it’s still a big crowd, the biggest you’ve ever been since you gave birth, and it’s a little scary to not hold onto her here. 

You don’t think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview. 

“I have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest you’ve brought with you?” Will asks with a grin. 

Lando can’t help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. “This is my daughter Piper, and she’s just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I can’t share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words can’t describe how much she means to me.I really wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today without her support.”  Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment. 

“What does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?” 

“Oh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.” 

The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Lando’s hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Lando’s chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - “dada”.

At first Lando thinks he’s hallucinating - there’s so many people around and there’s so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he can’t help but start to cry.

“She -, she- called me dada, oh my god I can’t believe it,” Lando’s in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that there’s a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective “awww” from the crowd.  “Sorry it’s just -, wow, she’s never done that before.” he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.

It’s now Piper’s turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Lando’s shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits. 

Luckily it’s time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights. 

“Look at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And there’s uncle Alex, and uncle George...” Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piper’s gaze falls to Lando’s new hat instead of the screen, but he’s happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment. 

You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - it’s only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined. 

It’s no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando can’t help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you. 

It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that he’s packing a suitcase. You’re honest with Lando when you tell him that you’ll see him once he gets back, there’s no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.

You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season he’s having. As the journalists would say, Lando’s “dad powers” have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far. 

“What do you think is going to happen when I don’t come home from a trip with one of those?” Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. It’s the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.

“I don’t want to find out, so you’ll just have to keep getting podiums, Lan” you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder. 

----

author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em 🤍

[tojikai]

Sundered 5: QUARRELS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, explicit smut, arguments, implied noncon

word count: 6.8k

This is close enough for a beggar like him.

“When Yui turns three…” Satoru turns to look at you with a small smile and a look in his eyes that you know too well not to understand at a glance. “When Yui turns three?” You urged him to continue, “...we make another one. Hopefully, a baby boy.” He pulled you on top of him as you laughed fondly.

“I can’t even count on my fingers how many times you said that already.” You giggled, kissing his blushing face. “I can’t have you forgetting. It’s a must. We make cute babies.” He spoke each sentence in between pecks. “ Yeah, but she’s only 5 months old, Satoru.” You put your head on his chest, feeling him caress your hair.

“I know, but I wanna tell you in advance.” Moments like this make you forget about all the problems and fights that you have with him. “But we’re gonna get married first, of course.” You looked up at him, watching his eyes glimmer. “You’re asking me to marry you?” You poked his side.

“Of course, what else am I gonna do with you?” He flips you over, kissing your neck and chest before attempting to pull the straps of your nighties down your shoulders. “This is for your daughter, don’t even try.” You pointed a finger at his nose as he pouted, “She’s asleep. Can’t I get a sip?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you making you giggle.

“What is going on with you?” He kissed your lips, joining you in your joy. Just two days ago, you and Satoru were screaming at each other’s faces because of how he got angry at you for talking back to his mother. She came into his house, trying to fight you because you got Yui’s ears pierced. You and Satoru agreed on it, but he didn’t like that you ‘talked back’ to his mom.

And now, it’s all gone. Washed away by his touches. Drowned away by his kisses and moans. “Remember when we did this while you were pregnant?” You could hear his smirk as he nibbled on your skin. You're now lying sideways with your hand holding one of your legs up. His strong arms were wrapped around your waist, caressing your lower stomach.

“Gonna put another one here in a few years.” He grunted when you reached for his hair, pressing him closer to you. “Satoru…” His breath on the shell of your ear only made you heat up more. You sobbed as his thrust got faster and harder. “Yeah, you want that.” He bit your ear lightly as you arched your back, whimpering.

You were just about to tell him that you’re close but Satoru got your body memorized. His hand was already trailing down to your womanhood, fingers rubbing on your nub as he coaxed you to your climax and followed shortly after. He finished inside you with your name flowing smoothly out of his lips. You stayed in the same position; with him still inside you as he pushed your legs together.

It was only one of those nights that made you believe that you’d be together until the end.

“...a new one?” Satoru’s voice snapped you back to reality. “Hm?” You turned to him, seeing that he was already staring at you. Yesterday, you and Toji fought. And today, you did again. Is the honeymoon phase they were saying already over? You gritted your teeth. “Are you still thinking about it?” Satoru’s voice was laced with concern as he drove.

Yesterday afternoon, you and Toji were talking about how much louder it gets when there are more kids around. Other than Yuuji, a little girl from their neighborhood named Nobara also joined—a name Yui cannot pronounce correctly but kept saying anyway. 

With four children running around the house, you and Toji could only communicate with eyes, teasing like a married couple planning for an addition. You two could only joke around the topic, though, knowing how serious and how big a responsibility it will be. 

Besides, your relationship is still young and you would like to get married first before taking a step like that. But marriage still feels pretty far for you and Toji.  

“Look, I’m sure he doesn’t mean it like that.” Satoru tried to comfort you. “His wife used to do that stuff and now he’s just sharing it with you.” He explained. You can’t help but feel like you were being petty. The kids had a playdate and you thought that making a bit of juice for their picnic would give them a better experience.

Toji started randomly talking about how his wife had little cousins and she refused to give them juice until they were 5 because it’s terrible for toddlers’ health. And though, you understand this, the way he said it just put you off. You felt like he was comparing you to her and you just didn’t like the way it made you feel. 

Before, there were times when he would mindlessly say that his wife introduced something to him or taught him to do something and you would think that he was probably just reminiscing. But now you just felt…sensitive. It just felt like you still had to compete even if there was no one to compete with.

“He’s probably just suggesting.” Satoru tried to explain for Toji, something you didn’t think would ever happen because they’re almost always wordless around one another. “Suggesting what? That I should do what his first wife did? And today he got upset that Yui and I would leave early to go with you.” Satoru sighed, nodding slowly.

Ever since that night, he’s been a lot more calm, more patient, and more careful with everything he does. “We should’ve canceled and moved it another day.” You looked at him, disbelief flashing on your face.

“Y/N, he’s your boyfriend now. It’s not good to leave a fight without talking first, even just for reassurance.” Whatever he’s been learning at counseling is definitely working, you thought. When he first told you about it, you didn't know how to react. Probably because you know that the cause of your problems is not just him. But also his mother.

“I told him we’ll talk later. He just doesn’t like that we have to spend time around each other like this.” Your voice was quieter. To be honest, you don’t know how to deal with that because it concerns your daughter too. “We can…we can just reduce times like this to milestones like birthdays and school events when she’s finally in school,” Satoru spoke, clearing his throat.

“I don’t think it’s that important anyway, Yui will understand that we’re separated soon. She’s growing fast.” You glanced at your daughter as she waves at the passing cars. Satoru’s right. “Yeah, I’ll just…I’ll talk to him about it.” Satoru probably doesn’t want it like that, but nowadays, he’s been…different. In a good way.

“By the way, I have a…my previous car. Do you remember? The one before this.” He asked, “Your car always breaks down. I mean…You can have it. So, you won’t have to take a cab when you take Yui to daycare, go to work, or pick her up from my place.” You can tell that he was nervous to ask you about it.

“Actually, if you want. I can ask Toji, so he won’t think of it as anything.” You looked away, thinking. You’re not the only one who has a significant other here; Naomi might think of it as something too. “You have to tell Naomi too.” You glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat. 

Silence enveloped the three of you for several minutes until Satoru spoke again. “My counselor said it’s easy to mistake comfort for love.” Taking a deep breath, you chose your words carefully. “You can learn to love people and things.” There was a long pause along as you reached his house.  You checked on Yui to find out that she fell asleep.

“That sounds like resignation, Y/N. Love doesn’t need conditions.”  He mumbled, looking at his lap. “Let’s go, she’s getting uncomfortable.” You took Yui’s things before following him inside his house. “Don’t forget her vitamins, Satoru.” Humming, he opened the door for you with your sleeping daughter in his arms. 

To his surprise, the lights were on and there, his mother and Naomi sat on his couch.

“You took so long. Did you forget about your girlfriend?” His mother was the first to speak. “Why are you here, Mom? You’re early, Naomi.” Naomi glanced at you with a look on her face that you can’t quite read. There’s nothing sinister about it, in fact, she looked nervous.

“She’s early because she won’t be working full days anymore.” You stood there awkwardly, feeling invisible before Satoru took a step closer to you, “Since she’ll be a part of the family soon, I asked your father if he can take it easy on her workload. Lovers should spend time with each other as much as they can.” His mother continues, emphasizing the word ‘family’ as she gave a mocking glance your way.

She never once considered you as one. Not that you want to be related in any way to someone like her. You scoffed inside your head, seeing Satoru glance at you. “We do spend enough time together.” He spoke, “And why are you deciding for her, Mom?” He took the bags in your hand, “Let’s go to Yui's room.” 

“It’s okay, I won’t be staying for long anyway, I just wanted to drop her off.” After taking Yui to an inflatable indoor park, Satoru bought her a Hello Kitty cake just as you were about to go home. The kid was excited to open the cake with you, but you were reluctant because you don’t really want to be around Naomi. After being assured by Satoru that Naomi wasn’t supposed to come over until Friday, you finally agreed.

You should’ve trusted your gut, because here she is with Satoru’s mom, like a cherry on top.

“I’ll take you home, let’s just put her to bed, then we’ll go.” The child stirred in her sleep, adjusting her head on his shoulder, “Mama, cake.” She murmured, probably dreaming about her food. You looked at Satoru, catching him already staring at you and something tells you it’s gonna be alright even with these two people who seemingly want you out of your own daughter’s life.

“We’ll talk later,” Satoru spoke to them, gently nudging you toward your daughter’s room. “There’s literally nothing to talk about, son. We just wanted to make the two of you more free for each other. Can’t have others hogging all of your attention from your lover. She won’t appreciate that. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” You paused, glancing at Satoru.

“With your new boyfriend, doesn’t it irritate you when he uses his time for other things?” You can tell that his mother is trying to elicit a reaction from you. “The only thing my boyfriend does other than work is take care of his son.  And I will never put myself in between them.” Before his mother could even say anything, Satoru quickly took the stage.

“I said later, Mom. Naomi and I will talk. It’s our relationship.” With that, he walked with you into Yui’s room, closing the door behind him, careful not to wake his daughter up. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think they’d be here.” You took Yui’s shoes and jacket off, before letting Satoru put her down. “I know, it’s okay.” Kissing Yui’s forehead, you could hear him whisper curse words.

“Hey.” You can tell he’s more than upset. This is probably more painful and exhausting to him than you thought. “I don’t know anymore, Y/N.” He turned away from you, running his hand over his face, “This. This is what’s making my life harder.” He gestured towards the door, referring to his mother. “This is what made our life harder.” You caught him saying as he shook his head.

“Just talk to them. Maybe there's a reason for this. She’s just naturally hostile with me.” You shrugged, knowing that he was speaking the truth. “That’s the point. She’s pointlessly hostile and she thinks she can decide for me.” Turning to you, there was redness in his eyes. 

Satoru didn’t want to seem like he was asking you for comfort. He refused to give you that before, he’d be shameless if he wanted you to hold him. “Let’s go. I’ll explain to Yui, we’ll call you later.” Blinking hard before opening the door, Satoru knows better than to allow his mother near you. You never told him but he knows that she slapped you when she came to your house.

They fought about it when he went to their mansion. Thankfully, his father backed him up with a speech about protective orders which shut her down. It pained him to be like that to his mom but he can’t just have her abusing you just because she can. 

Satoru walked beside you, covering you from his mother. “Satoru…” Naomi called out but his mother quickly spoke, “Doesn’t she have a car? Did it break down again? Ah, like before, when she wanted someone to take her home.” There was no hint of amusement in Naomi’s eyes, probably clueless as to what she was talking about. 

“I’m calling Dad to pick you up.” With that, he continued walking, leaving his mother with an angry look on her face. “That’d be good. He will be here to discuss things since he’s her boss. He might even give her a vacation. You and Naomi can go out of the country. Get close, plan things like marriage, children—” Stopping in his tracks, Satoru turned with his jaws clenched. 

“You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t leave my daughter here. After all, you threatened to take her away.” Walking back to Yui’s room, Satoru didn’t think twice as he grabbed your hand, making Naomi tense up. “Can she stay with you tonight? I’ll get her tomorrow.” He murmured, breathing hard as he picked his daughter up again.

“You think I’ll kidnap my own granddaughter, look what she’s making you think.” You can hear his mom as you rush to take Yui’s things. Whining, Yui covered her ears as Satoru walked her out of the room with you beside him. “I don’t need to kidnap Yui to get her away, her own mother isn’t even capable, what makes you think—” Satoru cut her off when he stood in front of her.

“I’m filing a restraining order.” He spoke, voice low as he tried to stay respectful despite what he was saying, “Against you.” His mother’s eyes widened in surprise, “Come on.” Ushering you out, and leaving his mother stunned. Opening the door for you, he then proceeded to fix his daughter in her car seat.

“Mama why?” You shushed her, caressing her hair, “We’ll eat cake at home.” You smiled at her, trying your best not to sound panicked before closing the door to finally get in the car. Satoru was about to get in the driver’s seat but Naomi came out of the house and ran to him. Glancing at you, she held his hand, “We’ll talk about it later.” He told her, checking if his mother followed. 

“Can’t you just…” Naomi was about to say something but held back, grabbed his collar, pulling him down to kiss his lips. You almost immediately looked away, seeing from your peripheral vision how she put Satoru’s arms around her waist. “Come home quick.” She whispered not so quietly at him. Getting in the car, you wondered if his mom told her about it.

“Naomi…” Satoru sighed, pulling away before looking at you with a concerned look in his eyes as he nodded away at her words. Leaving her, Satoru entered the car and started it. She stood there with a mixed look on her face that screams how irritated and upset she is with the events. 

“You don’t have to file a restraining order against her. She’s still your mother.” You didn’t have to say that but you felt like you’re the reason why there’s a gap between them now. “She’s not good for Yui. I can’t have her around speaking about you like that in front of her.” He was breathing hard. “Can you calm down? You’re driving.” 

“Sorry.” He muttered, before taking a deep breath. “I hope she won’t be there when I come back. I can deal with it on my own, whatever Naomi and I have to talk about.” He ranted, “I wish she didn’t intervene so much in everything I do. I feel like the decisions I made aren’t even mine.” He rarely talked like this back then. Actually, you rarely interacted like this back then.

“How’s…” Hesitating, he swallowed before continuing his question, “How’s Toji’s family to you?” He asked softly as if the information he’ll get can break him even more. It probably would. “He’s not that close to them, so they don’t really know much about us. I’ve met them twice when we picked up Megumi. They treat us kindly.” You glanced at him, seeing him purse his lips.

“That’s good for you. You won’t have to deal with something like this.” Satoru wanted to say that he’ll cut ties with his mother to protect you; to be with you. But knowing you, you’ll probably feel like it’s your fault and he doesn’t want that.

He’s aware that his mother influenced the decisions he made in the past. Talking to someone about it made him realize how wrong he approached things with you and how easily he let himself be swayed by the instant gratification that he felt when he gave up on your relationship. 

None of it was worth it. 

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

Three Days Ago

“I can’t do that,” Naomi spoke as she tried to lean away from Satoru’s mom. They met at a cafe near her neighborhood. She was supposed to ask for advice, but it quickly turned into plotting how to lock Satoru to her. “Listen, Y/N was able to keep Satoru with her because they have a child together.” She tapped a sharp nail on the table.

Naomi would be lying if she said that she didn’t think about using that to get more of his time. She admit that she thought of a way to make him have a kid with her, even trying to lie about her safe day to make him do it inside her. She didn’t think that hearing it come from someone else can sound so sick and twisted.

If Satoru doesn’t want the kid, what’s going to happen to me; to us?

“Why are you worried? I’ve been in the same situation and I’m telling you, Satoru kept his father for me.” Naomi’s eyebrows bumped together as she thought of how easy it was for her to say something like that. “You did that to his father?” She asked in disbelief, wanting nothing but to go but desperate enough to stay.

“Not intentionally. But had I not told him, his ex-wife wouldn’t have left us alone and he wouldn’t have stopped running after her.” She took a sip of her coffee, making her seem so chill with her story. Naomi knows all of it for Satoru once told her. She just thought that his mother really baby-trapped his dad to make him stay.

Can Naomi really do that?

“You won’t baby trap my son, you just let him come to you. Attract him like you did back then.” She nodded at Naomi. “I just wanted to help him, then. I didn’t try to seduce him.” She defended herself, “But you did drink with him a few times? Tell me you didn’t get seductive with him during those nights.” She dared, and Naomi looked down.

She remembers telling him how she liked his eyes and how he was too hot to bury himself in problems. She also remembers nonchalantly telling him how he caught her eye when she first saw him. She knows that she liked to think of him and Yui as her own little family even before they started dating and she remembers promising him that they can make it work.

Was Naomi really being just a friend to him then? Or was she already falling for him when she tried to become what he needs during those times?

“Y/N was confident that she’ll get Satoru back and that’s why she let her guard down. Now, if you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” She shook her head, and the words easily got Naomi thinking twice. She’s not trying to be like you. She’s better than you. 

She’s better for him than you.

“Why do you hate her so much?” Naomi suddenly asked, thinking out loud as she carefully thought about her decision. I mean, she didn’t really do anything to me.” If she’s going to think about it, other than the misunderstandings— which were probably caused by something offensive she did or said—you’re never antagonistic towards her.

“She ruined my son’s life. I shouldn’t have expected anything knowing how she got him, but she even had the nerve to try and make him do all the work. She’s probably just after the money..” No matter how hard she tried to recall, Naomi can’t remember him sighing over having Yui with you. “And you think she didn’t really do anything to you? You’re a bit naive.” Naomi’s forehead puckered at her statement.

“Didn’t you notice how she got a new man only now when it started looking like Satoru’s sure about you?” His mother might just be overthinking things but it didn’t help that the changes in her and Satoru’s relationship were almost perfectly timed with you getting a boyfriend. But what if it’s just Satoru? It could’ve been a coincidence, right?

Realizing how she was trying to convince herself in her mind, Naomi only felt worse. Maybe she really has to do something. After all, she swore to him that they can make it work. She’s not someone to just back down and give up on the one she loves when things get tough.

She’s better than you, and unlike you, she won’t run away; she’ll fight for their relationship. 

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

Arriving home, Yui was already wide awake. “...then, Dad will be back to buy a new cake with Yui! How’s that?” Satoru kissed her cheek as he put her down on the couch. The little girl got upset that her dad has to go so soon. She just stood there wordlessly, leaning on the couch as she refused to look at Satoru.

“It’s okay, I’ll talk to her. She’s just grumpy because her nap was disturbed.” Walking towards the little girl, you sat down and put her on your lap. “Say bye, now.” You pushed the stray hairs away from her face and Satoru can’t help but admire how much he missed just seeing the two of you waiting for him on his couch.

Yui was younger then; much smaller in your arms. And he felt like a real husband coming home to his wife and child when you’d be there, watching TV when he got home from work. It’s been more than a year now, he just thinks he’s lucky enough to still be close to you again. 

You’re not as close as he wants you to be but this is more than enough for a beggar like him.

Leaning down to give your daughter a kiss, she turned away from him. “Yui, that’s not nice.” Her mouth was quivering but you know her too well. “You better go, they’re waiting for you there.” You looked at him but he only stared at you, sighing deeply. You felt like it was the hundredth time today. 

He looked so worn out; like he was just ready to drop as soon as he gets these things out of his tail. You wondered if you looked like this to him back then, too. Probably not this bad because you don’t have a meddlesome mother who keeps trying to put her finger in the pie. 

Before Satoru could answer, a knock on the door was heard. The door opened and a little boy holding his sippy cup stood by the doorway. Toji held the doorknob, staring at you and Satoru. What time is it? You thought. You remembered telling him that you’d be back by 4 in the afternoon. Yui was quick to jump from your lap.

“Dada! ‘Gumi! Dada! ‘Gumi!” She squealed at them and you could feel Satoru tense up beside you. She had been told by Toji about it, but hearing it from her friend isn’t helping at all. Megumi looked up at Satoru before looking at Yui. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s my name?” Toji bent down to pick her up when she kept stomping her feet and reaching up at him.

“Dada!” She laughed, before pointing at Megumi who was now taking his little bag from his father’s hand. “You’ll play later. Listen, tell your Dada what my name is.” Toji repeated just as Satoru regained his composure. “It’s alright,” He chuckled, “She probably thought you’re her Dada because you take care of her. And her mom.” You wanted to stop him, feeling bad that he had to pretend that he's cool about this.

Yui’s first word was ‘Dada’ and you could still remember how happy he was when he got her to say it before ‘Mama’. You can’t stand the thought of that memory becoming painful for him. “I gotta go, I’ll just pick her up again tomorrow.” He whispered to you, before nodding to Toji. “Bye, love. See you, tomorrow.” He waved at Yui, faking a smile before rushing to leave.

Yui waved back at him before wiggling out of Toji’s arms. She rushed to get her toys when he put her down. “She’s…she’s a kid” Biting your lip, you breathed out through your nose before walking to Toji and putting your arms around him. “Don’t run.” He called out to the children as giggled their way to Yui’s room. “I feel bad. I’m gonna talk to him later.” You mumbled.

Toji kissed your forehead before you pulled him to your room. “What’s going on?” He asked you, sitting on the bed. “Are you worried?” You asked, straddling him. “I am.” He answered, ignoring your actions. You looked up at him with a frown, remembering the misunderstanding that you had. “Why was he here?” 

“Look, he just had to drop me and Yui off because his mother was in his house—” He cut you off, leaning away a bit from you. You know that you didn’t tell him that you were going to Satoru’s house with Yui because you were still upset about your argument the other day and earlier this morning. 

“You told me the time but you can’t tell me where you were going?” Perplexity was clear on his face, “I didn’t want to agitate you further. I wouldn’t tell you right now if there’s another reason why I’m there except for Yui.” You tried to explain, feeling him put you beside him on the bed. “Y/N, that’s not the point.” He sighed, closing his eyes.

“Then, what is? I wasn’t planning to stay for long.” You kicked off your shoes, before turning to him. “Look, I’m sorry, ok? I just thought you were mad because of earlier.” You hugged his arm, putting your forehead on his shoulder. “And I was still upset.” Kicking his own shoes off, Toji pulled you on top of him as he leaned back on the headboard

“You have to tell me why you’re upset. It can’t be just the orange juice.” He spoke, grabbing your face as he kissed you. You moaned, breathing into him as you opened your mouth, letting his tongue find yours. His grunts sent vibrations to your core as you press yourself against him. 

“Did you lock the door?” He murmured, taking off your cardigan before putting his hands on your buttocks. “Yeah, don’t worry.” You quickly took off your shirt before going back to kissing him, completely forgetting about what he was asking from you. 

“As long as we can hear the laughs, they’re fine.” He chuckled, unclasping your bra before taking a nipple in his mouth. “Oh…” You moaned rubbing on his shoulders and tugging at the fabric of his sweater. His other fingers tweaked at your bud as he stared up at you, lustful eyes taking away your worries.

You really just don’t want to tell him that the mention of his wife is starting to trigger you.

Taking off the clothing, he flipped you on your back, removing your belt and jeans. His lips trailed kisses on your thighs as he go, massaging your calves before parting your legs, making you inhale sharply. “We can’t drag this long. Come here.” You giggled, ushering him to hover over you. “You know how they are…” You moaned when he started to kiss your neck.

His tongue and teeth bring pleasure and a bit of sting on your skin. “You just want it that much.” Winking at you, he discarded his remaining clothes before hovering over your womanhood. He smirked as he slid your underwear down, kissing your pearl. “Toji…” You whined, worried that this might get cut short if he doesn’t hurry.

“Alright, alright. I can’t just stick in. Let’s see…” Spreading your lips with two fingers, he eyed your heat with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly ajar, you can’t help but rock your hips against his hand, desperate for friction. Your eyes shut close when he put a finger in, slowly at first, before speeding up when he added a second one.

Toji panted, stroking his member when he felt you squeeze his digits. You’re dripping and he’s starting to ache. “Fuck.” He muttered as he leaned over to go for your lips, kissing you hard. He growled in your mouth when you whimpered as he rubbed on your pearl while massaging the sensitive spot inside you.

Pulling away when your legs started to tremble, Toji hissed as he tapped his head on the bundle of nerves before rubbing his length on your wet folds to lube himself up. “Toji, please.” You cupped your mounds, looking up at him. Seeing you like this drove him crazy, he had to hold back from just slamming himself into you. 

Grabbing a pillow and putting it under your hips, Toji prodded your entrance with his tip. He opened your legs wider, taking in the sight of you being stretched and his shaft disappearing slowly until he was fully in. Leaning on the bed with one hand, he grabbed your jaw with the other and silenced your moans with his kisses.

“You can’t let them hear you.” He murmured as he clenches his jaw, pressing his nose on your cheeks and kissing it. He was moving steadily inside of you and whispering words of praises to your ear, “You take me so well now.” He teased you, groaning whenever your hole fluttered around him.

You gasped when Toji pushes your legs to your chest, pounding deeper into you as he sings your name like you do to his. His thrusts were unrelenting, merciless as he slams himself into you. Soon enough, your walls were starting to convulse and your nails were clawing on his arm. 

“Come on. Let it go, hon.” You closed your eyes, feeling your chest throb at the nickname he used but the surges of pleasure that took over your senses flooded it out. Your hand covered your mouth, eyes rolling back as you writhed underneath him, coming undone with a cry of delight escaping your lips.

Your thighs trembled under his touch as he continued to rut into you, desperate for his high. “Oh fuck…Oh, Y/N.” Feeling your walls spasm and contract around him, he hurriedly pulled out and spilled his load on your womanhood. A sight to see, he thought as he watched your thighs still shaking from the pleasure.

“Wait a minute," Reaching over to your cabinet, Toji took the box of tissues before wiping you and himself clean. Hearing the jolly screams from the other room made you both laugh to yourself. "That's too quick. We gotta continue this later." He winked, throwing the tissues away before getting on the bed with you.

"Definitely." You let out a tired laugh as you put your head on his shoulder, sighing as the heavy feeling settled on top of your chest. Why did you have to remember him just from that word alone? Toji tilted your head up for a passionate kiss, blurring away the image of your ex inside your head.

“I have a request, though.” You looked down, avoiding his curious gaze. “Can you….can we not use ‘hon’?” You don’t know how weirdly you phrased the question until you looked at Toji to see him looking puzzled. “I mean…this is the first time you called me that and I’m, uh, not really comfortable with that. “

“Yeah, alright. But why?” Maybe you should’ve thought this through. You know Toji’s been getting moody whenever you two talk about anything concerning Satoru. You can’t really blame him after what happened that night. “I just… don’t feel it.” You lied, shrugging. “It’s not that bad, though. I could get used to it.” You smiled up at him, pecking his lips.

“Alright, I think I know.” He exhaled harshly, standing up from the bed to grab your clothes. Great. You just ruined the moment. “Are you mad?” You sat up, watching him get dressed. “No, I just wanna check on the kids.” He is mad. You clicked your tongue, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Babe, I just don’t want to–“ 

“Y/N. I said alright. I can’t do anything about it, anyway.” That doesn’t fix anything. “A lot of people use that, I just don’t get why you keep getting affected.” You stared at him, baffled. “It’s not like I want to do that. I can’t help my mind, there was a memory attached to that word.” 

You stood up to get a robe, “You know that it’s not easy for me, too. I told you.” You uttered, watching his back through your vanity mirror as he stood still. “Maybe if you stop relating everything to him, then it won’t be so hard.” With that, he left the room and you don’t know if you’re hurt or just shocked that he would say something like that to you.

Because he does that to you too. And you thought that he, of all people, should understand where you’re coming from. 

—————————————-

Satoru slid the door open with force, seeing Naomi flinch as she was startled by the sound. “Where’s mom?” He asked, breathing hard and eager to just put an end to the craziness she was doing. “I convinced her that we’ll be fine.” She walked to him, smiling as she put her arms around his neck. 

“We just need to catch up on each other, I feel like we’ve been too occupied these days.” She buried her face in the crook of his neck, kissing the skin as she rubbed his nape with a soft, delicate hand. “Yeah, we got a lot to talk about.” Satoru put a hand on the small of her back. “But first, you gotta tell me what that was about.”

“I just invited her over. I didn’t know Y/N would be here, sorry.” She sighed, before dragging him to the couch. Satoru kept thinking about the scene before he left your house. That was just a lot to take in, especially when he just fought with his mother. “I got no work tomorrow, we can stay up all night.” She giggled, taking off her cardigan.

“Let’s have a couple of drinks during dinner. I’ll cook for you.” She proposed, walking to the kitchen. Checking his phone, he found himself expecting a text from you. None. You don’t give a fuck about him. He sighed, It’s okay. As long as I can see themi, he thought. He just hoped that you’d ask how things went in his house. Or if he’s hurt about ‘Dada’ Toji. All the things he shouldn’t expect.

Guess, I’ll fucking die of jealousy, then. He clenched his teeth proceeding to his bedroom. “I’ll wash up.” He spoke to Naomi, “Go on, baby. I’ll be making dinner.” She answered, glancing his way. If she’s going to be honest, she wanted to skip the talks. The truth is Naomi’s afraid of what he’ll say if she confronts him with her real thoughts.

She could easily skip those steps, and get to her goal.

Goal? Naomi’s movements halt as she realized how she sounded. She’s not a bad person, she thought. Is she really gonna do this? “If you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” Naomi’s breath hitched when his mother’s words reverberated in her head.

She can’t lose him. Not now when they’re almost settling down. She’s not being a monster, she’s not baiting him. He’ll come to her on his own like he did before. She’s just going to make him see that she’s good for him. 

Dinner time came and she prepared it more than ordinary, hoping to ignite a light in him. It’s not usual for a woman to start something like this but Naomi’s different. As she said, she’ll fight for him. “Wow, is this a date?” Satoru chuckled sitting down in front of her seat. “I just wanted to rekindle. Your mom’s right, we’re just drifting away. I can’t stand that happening.”

Walking to her chair, Naomi stopped by him and kissed his cheek. Satoru on the other hand, can’t help but feel bad. He’s sure that nothing will change even if they do this. “Try. She’s a good person.” He quickly downed a drink, letting it take your voice away. Not because he doesn’t want to listen to you, but because he’s not sure if he can do it. 

The dinner went by quickly, and they were just discussing over drinks. He can’t even count how many he downed when she started talking about how you look more plump. “They might beat us in giving Yui a sibling.” She joked, laughing because she didn’t know what was in his head. “I doubt it, she wanna get married first.” He replied monotonously before opening up about his counseling sessions.

“Counselling?” She asked. The topic is incredibly close to what Satoru’s about to confess. She stared at her wide eyes as he nodded. “Were you having problems? Baby, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you.” Her concern was sincere and it made him feel like a villain. “I wanted to be better for Yui.” And for Y/N. 

Clueless, she gave him a fond stare. “You’re a great father. Y/N knows that.”  There were times during the dinner when Satoru was so close to spitting out the truth to her but the effort she put in just to make that food on the table makes him feel remorseful. 

Satoru knows that it’s not right. But just for tonight, after all the months that he made him feel tranquil, he can spare her heart for a night or two. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to break her heart. But staying would only mean that she’s never going to get what she wants and deserves.

“I’ll be brushing my teeth then, get to bed. The drink got to me.” He laughed, holding the chair as he stood up. “Thank you so much. For everything.” She came to hug him, kissing his lips as she murmured words of adoration to him. “Go ahead, you’re all red, can you walk?” She joked, before pushing him to go, “I’ll be with you in a few. I feel really sleepy now, too.” 

It’s been almost half an hour. Naomi checked on Satoru to find him sleeping soundly already. Not even her slam of the door woke him up. She stared at herself in the mirror, “I’m really gonna do this.” She exhaled, closing her eyes before going walking out of the bathroom. He’s still in the same position as before. 

Stepping closer, Naomi removed her silk robe, revealing her night dress. She clenched her fist tightly, before quickly releasing it just to try and get rid of the tension in her body. She sat on the bed, touching his chest and abs. Hearing him moan when she got to his lower part calmed her slightly. Just like we always do, she repeated in her head, kissing his skin.

“I’m sorry, Satoru…” She whispered one last time.

PREV | NEXT

taglist: @forever-war @astral-hydromancy @witchbybirth @starshinedowo @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @lost-lonnie @haitanifxn @dearsunaa @clairdelunaax @anxious-chick @tigerchaeee @gingerspicelattemix @tsukkisrightpinky @crowiechan @makimais @infinitemoonlight @iloveblogging2 @cloudsinthecosmos @uchiwife @bellaadonnas @lawlietily @lilxnvm @poopoobuttsy @yihona-san06 @luhvbot @sagekko @asbony @uhremmi

@kurookinnie @why-am-i-here-again-shitheads @galaxyfever @guenievresworld @y2kcy3brz @chocokaylarobin @hopeannalea @shizuuuuuuuu @tojirin @teapartyspilled @ackermendick @shadowarchon @vinkiesz @awkwardaardvarkforever @btsw1fe @nvvacanesworld @wolffmaiden @underburningstars @rntrsuna @vampgguk @doulcha @creolequeen11210

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Eventual), Little bit of Grumpy vs. Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy

Spotify Playlist 🪴

[SERIES COMPLETE]

Chapter 1: Are You Always Like This?

Chapter 2: What A Great Freakin' Way To Start The Day

Chapter 3: Please Remember To Take Your Happy Pills

Chapter 4: You Want to Live Where?

Chapter 5: We Got Us An IKEA Virgin

Chapter 6: Best Friends Forever

Chapter 7: It’s Not A Date

Chapter 8: It's Still Not A Date

Chapter 9: Don't Let The Bed Bugs Bite

Chapter 10: Brother Dearest

Chapter 11: It’s Giving Kidnapping?

Chapter 12: Skip The Bagel Next Time

Chapter 13: Taking Out The Trash

Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake

Chapter 15: I Don't Know What You Did To Me!

Chapter 16: I Thought I Was In Love Before

Epilogue: I Don't Want To Lose Your Lovelight

{One Shots}

Open Mic Night: When Ben and you go out on a double date with Annie and Hughie, you realize that maybe it was a bad idea.

Little Things: All Soldier Boy wants for Christmas is to find the perfect gift for you and all you want is for your boyfriend to have the best Christmas he has in forty years.

Last Updated: 01/19/2025

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

@reidtomewinchester @samanthadegaro @glossy01 @nikimisery

@tunnelvisionlove @incandxscents @winchester-stark @samahanta

@melonmochi

@kamisobsessed @whichwitchwanda @karolina-12110905 @jcollins03-blog

@pixviee @filmologetica @yvonneeeee @c1nnamong1rl29 @kmc1989

@livya99 @cherrygirl444 @tulipsvanilla @angrydragon90 @chi-raz

(Photos on Mood Board From Pinterest)

[hsunrry]

study session // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~1,5k

warnings: smut18+, age gap (harry is 30, reader is 20), fingering, oral (m receiving), praise

a/n: i wasn’t sure what was s/n in this request, so i decided to just did it like i usually do!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“okay, so this one is easy.” Gemma smiled, grabbing one of her books from the shelf. “i have perfect book for that.”

“yeah, easy for you to say. i don’t even know why i have this subject, italian has nothing to do with what i’m studying.” you mumbled, looking at her. she chuckled.

“i know, but it’s complementary subject.” she opened the book. you groaned, laying down on her bed. “come on, we got this. it’s easy, i swear.”

“mhm.” you putted random book on your face. she shook her head amused. second later bedroom door opened and Gemma’s brother; Harry, appeared in the doorway.

“Harry? what are you doing here?” her eyebrows raised.

“just thought about visiting when i’m in town.” he smiled, checking you out. “didn’t thought you’d have a guest. i’m Harry.” he extended his hand to you.

“don’t be silly, this is y/n.” Gemma said and Harry’s eyes widened.

“wait, y/n? really? oh my god i’m so sorry, i didn’t recognized you, you… changed.” he smiled, clearly eyeing you shamelessly. “how old are you now? it’s been what? 9 years since i saw you?”

“something like that, i’m 20 now. i just grew up.” you said, looking up at him from the bed you were sitting now. he licked his lips slightly, turning his eyes to his sister when she spoke.

“you want something to drink?” he only nodded and she went downstairs. he sat next to you on the bed.

“so you’re in college?” you nodded at his question. he grabbed one of your books. “italian?”

“Gemma is helping me, it’s complementary subject, i don’t really need it, but i have to pass it anyway.” you shrugged. he scanned your body quickly. his eyes lingering for few seconds on your exposed by summer dress chest, before looking back at your face.

“so what’s your main then?” he putted back book on the bed next to you.

“criminology stuff.” you smiled slightly. he raised his eyebrows.

“oh really? you’d look good in uniform, you know.” he grinned. you could feel your cheeks blushing slightly. “i’d love to see you in it.”

“you think so? thank you.” you smiled shyly, playing with the hem of your dress.

“i know so, love. you’d also look good under-“ he didn’t finished, because his sister walked into the room with a coffee for him. she putted it on the nightstand.

“i’m so sorry, but i have to leave for half an hour. Harry you know italian well, maybe you could tech her a little?” she asked, looking at us both. you wanted to protest, but he quickly spoke.

“it’ll be pleasure, take your time big sister.” he smiled and Gemma only rolled her eyes amused. she left the house soon after and you two were alone. “so with what do you have a problem?”

“everything, honestly.” you sigh, looking at the book.

“how about i’ll tell you a sentence and you’ll try translate it? for the starters of course.” you nodded, looking at his face. “amo i tuoi occhi.”

“i think it’s ‘i love your eyes’?” you looked at him. he smiled.

“yes, good.” he grabbed your chin between his fingers, looking into your eyes. “it is in fact. i love your eyes.” you swallowed quietly. “you changed a lot since i saw you. you’re a grown woman now, not just a kid.”

“and you’re 30, if i remember correctly?” you managed to say something finally. he smirked.

“i am 30 now, that’s correct.” he traced your jawline with his index finger. “you’re really beautiful.” you could feel your cheeks burning at his words. he seems to like the effect he had on you. but how could he not? you had a crush on him since you saw him for the first time when you were 7, but obviously it wasn’t right. he was 17 at this time. but now? he looks like a god on earth and you really can’t complain that he’s complementing you. you could already feel how wet you were from his little touches and words. “so how about instead of italian we’ll learn another language?”

“what do you mean?” you asked confused. he smiled and leaned close to your ear. his lips brushing against your earlobe when he talk.

“body language.” he whispered, sending shiver down your spine. his nose traced line on your skin from your ear to the crook of your neck. “you smell so good, y/n. what is that? grapes?” you nodded. “grapes. i love grapes. they’re sweet, just like you baby.” he pulled out from your neck, but he was still close to your face. you looked into his eyes, before his gaze darted down on your lips. you instinctively licked them. his jaw clenched and his eyes went back at yours. “don’t do that or i won’t be able to control myself anymore.”

“then don’t.” you said, without thinking twice. your eyes widened after they escaped your lips. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to say-“ you didn’t even had to finish after his lips connected with yours. you froze for a second, but quickly recovered, kissing him back. you could feel your heartbeat quickening when his hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer. your hand went into the back of his hair, causing his quiet groan into the kiss. he pushed you down on the bed, without breaking the kiss. his hand went from your waist to your hip.

“can i touch you?” he whispered between kisses. you nodded quietly. his hand went from your hip under your dress. his big hand touched your core over your panties. you opened your legs slightly wider to give him access. he smiled into the kiss. “already opening for me, such a good girl.” he whispered, going with his kisses on your neck. you tilted your head to your side to give him better access. he was kissing and nibbling, but not hard enough to leave any mark. his hand went inside your panties, teasing your entrance with his finger. you moaned quietly. “so wet, just for me, i love that darling.” he whispered into your neck. his finger slipped inside you, causing your gasp. he started moving slowly, adding second finger after few seconds. you squirmed under him. his fingers were working magic inside you, it was all too good to be true.

“oh my god.” you gasped and your hips went up when you were getting closer. he smiled against your skin. his fingers were moving fast in perfect curve.

“i know you’re close, come on sweetheart.” he pulled out from your neck, looking into your eyes. you bite your lower lip and tilted your head back from pleasure. “you look so good y/n, you have no idea.” with final few thrusts you came around his fingers, clenching on them. your legs were slightly shaking and your loud moan filled his ears. he fingered you slowly through your orgasm, pulling them out after. he licked them clean. “you taste divine, darling.” he grinned, looking at your spent expression. you looked at him and your hand that was on his chest went down, near the button of his jeans. his breath hitched slightly.

“can i?” you asked quietly, looking into his eyes. he tucked strand of your hair behind your ear.

“of course, love. if you want to i’m not gonna say no to you.” he smiled sweetly, watching you going down on your knees in front of him. ha sat on the edge of the bed, taking his jeans and boxers before it. you wrapped your hand around his shaft. you spat on his tip and your hand started stroking him. he groaned quietly, watching you closely. when you started sucking him with your mouth he moaned, putting his hand into your hair immediately. you were still stroking the part of his cock you didn’t reach with your mouth. he tilted his head back from pleasure, breathing heavy already. your free hand went to massage his balls, when your mouth started moving faster on him. “god, you’re so fucking good, keep going darling.” he panted, gripping your hair slightly tighter. you quickly obeyed of course, moving even faster now. your tongue was working on him inside your mouth and you could hear it was so good for him. he could already feel climax approaching. “just few more seconds, can i come inside your mouth, baby?” you nodded around him, looking up at him. he moaned from how amazing it all felt and at the sight of you looking up at him. “god, your eyes are even more beautiful when you’re wrapped around my cock like that.” he gasped. he was panting at this point. “gonna come.” he warned you and after few moves of your mouth you could felt his warm release inside your mouth. you swallowed everything, whipping your mouth with your hand after. he looked down at you, caressing your hair with his hand.

“sei fantastica, tesoro.”

(you’re amazing, darling)

(a/n: i’m sorry if something’s wrong with this italian sentences, i translated them by google translate.)

[daisyblog]

Suspect Challenge

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN and Louis do the TikTok ‘Suspect Challenge’.

YN begins the video by recording Louis jogging lightly down the enclosed garden on their grandparents house.

“Suspect claims to be 5ft 9 but is really 5ft 7!”.

YN bursts into laughter behind the camera as Louis gives her an unimpressed look, as he pretends to be hurt by the teasing.

“You’re fookin’ rude!”. Louis’ run comes to a halt as he points towards his sister, waiting for her to stop laughing.

Louis now ran alongside YN as she ran down the path, looking ahead waiting for her brother to speak.

“Suspect only dates her brothers friends!”.

YN gave Louis a frown as she turned to face him, ready to correct him. “Fook off Lou…it was one friend and it’s been like thirteen years!”.

“Still me best mate though!”. Louis shrugged his shoulders as he bumped into his sister playfully.

“Suspect likes to act tough, but really he’s a big softie!”.

“Hey…that’s suppose to be a secret!”. Louis childishly stamped his foot as he and YN shared a laugh over his sarcasm.

“Oops!”.

“Suspect claims to like other singers but really only listens to One Direction!”.

YN holds her hands up in surrender. “Oh waw! What a fookin’ crime”.

“Such a fan girl!”.

“Suspect forgets the words to his own songs!”.

“Ohh give me a fookin’ break will you? How many songs do I have? Can’t remember every single one of them”. Louis chuckled loudly at his sister’s attempt of calling him out on the many times he’s forgotten the words when singing.

YN couldn’t stop herself from adding to the comment. “But your fans can remember every word to every song and album!”.

“Fook off smart ass!”.

“Suspect is obsessed with her husband!”.

“Hell fookin’ yeah I am…have you seen him…absolutely-”. YN’s face lit up with happiness as she thought about Harry.

Louis interrupted knowing YN wouldn’t stop once she started. “Yeah yeah we get it!”.

“Suspect only knows how to cook one meal!”.

“You’re jealous of me amazing cooking skills”. Louis lovingly pointed at YN. “Have you seen me chopping up a cucumber…absolute chef!”.

YN rolled her eyes at his words. “Master chef eat your heart out!”.

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994 @macy-tpwk @mrs-anna-styles211994

[prettyrenjunn]

you belong with me

huang renjun x f!reader

themes- smau! friends to lovers, fluff, crack, angst (hardly any) ‼️ maybe some mature themes & inappropriate jokes (COMPLETE)

summary- renjun has had a crush on you since as long as he can remember, the problem? he can’t seem to get rid of these feels and there’s no way he’s going to confess and possibly ruin the years of friendship you share.

playlist - you belong with me, late night talking, i like me better, pretty boy, those eyes, look after you

character profiles

chapters

1. blind date

2. dilf

3. strictly friends

4. side quest

5. huangrenjunology

6. mrs huang

7. she’s in on it

8. scheming

9. that should be me

10. jo & laurie

11. who wanna kiss?

12. tori vega

13. frederick yn huang

14. love triangle

15. orgasm donor

16. insane

17. 8-way

18. messed up

19. ghosting

20. make up or make out

[castiwls]

mothers day .ᐟ

Paring; coach!patrick x single mom!reader

Synopsis; your son wants to make mothers day special and who else better to drag into his plans then his tennis coach! the same tennis coach who really really want's to make a move properly this time.

Notes; I may start a tag list for this if I get enough interest? hm

Masterlist | coach!au masterlist

“Careful! That took us way too long for you to drop it at the finish line” 

Noah grinned his grip tightening on the tray he was currently holding. He slowed his pace down, climbing the steps one at a time to not drop the food. Being woken up at 6 am on a Sunday was far from his ideal weekend but Noah had insisted that they make you breakfast before you could beat them to it.

“Grandma helped me last year but she's on holiday and I can’t use the stove…mom’ll get mad.” He’d pleaded doing his puppy dog eyes alongside it and Patrick had folded almost immediately. An hour and a half later they’d managed to make a decent meal of pancakes and bacon.

“Wait.” Noah paused by his bedroom door, eyebrows furrowing for a moment before looking at Patrick. “Can you get the present for me?” He smiled as Patrick rolled his eyes letting out a small huff. “Jesus kid it’s not even 9 am yet and you’ve had me working my ass off here.”

Noah grinned slightly sheepishly. 

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

You’d honestly forgotten about Mother's day. Sure your mom normally made sure Noah got you something but with your parents being away you’d just assumed that this year wouldn’t be a fuss. 

The last thing you’d expected was to be woken up by your son at 7:30 with a full breakfast and a gift. Your son had practically been vibrating in excitement when he’d showed you his work. 

“Happy Mother's Day!” He placed the tray down with surprising carefulness for a nine-year-old before jumping up next to you. “How did you do all this?” You wrapped an arm around him as he shuffled closer and your eyes narrowed slightly. The small smile which pulled at your lips softened the accusing look you’d sent him as he smiled innocently.

“Technically he didn't do it” Patrick hummed leaning casually against the door, the gift bag hanging loosely in his grasp. “I helped!’ Noah frowned.

“You threw flour everywhere.” Patrick raised an eyebrow as Noah flushed slightly. “I cleaned it up!” He argued. Patrick shook his head pushing off the door to sit at the edge of the bed. “You did. You did.”

You smiled watching the two quietly. Patrick staying around had become more and more common in the months since your sons birthday. It was more common than not at this point for him to show up and stay the weekend, something which Noah loved. Your son seemed happier than ever and loved having both you and Patrick around, even you’d found yourself enjoying his company.

You’d never admit that you liked waking up to him and Noah in the kitchen. It was nice to have another person other than your son around.

“You know you didn’t have to do anything.” You smiled. Noah shook his head with a stubborn pout. “It’s Mother's Day! You do stuff for my birthday!” He reasoned pushing the tray closer. Patrick smiled watching as your son chatted eagerly in your ear as you ate.

Quietly placing the bag down he stood slowly deciding to give you both some space but before he could reach the door his name was called. “Patrick, where are you going?” Both you and Noah had stooped to watch him.

You waited quietly for a response as he hovered in the doorway, his eyes glancing from the hall to you. “I was just gonna go clean up.”

A small frown pulled at your lips as your teeth gnawed on your lip for a moment. You didn’t want him to leave but you also understood that he might not want to be pulled into this any more than he had. 

He was still only technically a friend and even friend was only used lightly. Sure he wasn’t as annoying as he’d been at first, he’d almost calmed down in a way. His once relatively childish pursuit of you seemed to have halted.

You couldn’t remember the last time he’d made some sort of sexual joke or made you want to smack the arrogant smirk right off his stupidly handsome face.

He was actually becoming a decent person and part of you hated to admit how much you liked this new version of him.

“No rush…unless you have anything else to do?” You were slightly hesitant as you spoke, your voice faltering almost as you left the offer open. You were leaving the ball in his court to see what he would do.

He could make an excuse now and spend his day alone…or he could take the opening.

And he really wanted to take your opening.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Didn’t you watch this las-”

“Shh. You’re missing it.”

Patrick scoffed shaking his head with an amused smile watching as you focused back on the screen again. Noah was happily tucked between you both, picking absentmindedly at the chocolates you’d opened only a few hours before.

You’d been given full control of the TV for the day and quickly chose a movie that Patrick was beginning to realise was a common staple in your home. He sighed quietly saying your name as his head rolled back against the headboard. “You watched this on Friday.”

“And I’ll continue to watch it.” 

He opened his mouth, ready to make another comment before you cut him off. “Another word, and I'm cancelling the sports package.” Patrick's eyes widened, and his shoulders tensed for a moment. “You wouldn’t…”

Noah’s own eyes widened at your threat and for a moment you thought they were about to bug out of his head as you reached for your phone. “One click and it’s gone.” He shook his head looking back to Patrick with wide eyes. 

A small smile pulled at his lips as he reached over to ruffle his hair. “Your mom’s just joking.” Patrick’s eyes met yours and you raised an eyebrow. “I think.” He murmured. You shrugged placing your phone back down. “Complain about my movie choices one more time and I won’t be.”

A look of relief crossed Noah’s face as he settled back into the pillows. The room fell quiet again, the sound of the TV filling the silence as the three of you went back to watching. You felt Noah shift ever closer, his head resting against your chest as he fiddled with the cover.

Patrick’s head tilted down slightly at the feeling of Noah shifting, the hand that wasn’t intertwined with the covers tugging on the side of his sweatpants in a silent request. He frowned for a moment before catching on to what the boy wanted when he tugged particularly hard.

Taking a breath he shifted slightly closer a small happy sound leaving Noah as he was now cushioned between you both. You paid no mind, simply watching the screen and missing the wide-eyed look Patrick sent you for a moment as your son all but demanded to be cuddled by you both.

This had to be crossing some sort of line…right?

He was already crossing a line the minute he’d taken your offer to join you both in your bed but now, now he knew he was pushing it. He half expected you to notice and push him from the bed for overstepping his boundaries but you didn't.

You didn’t say anything.

After a moment he managed to will himself to relax, shifting slightly for a moment as his arm rested awkwardly in his lap. 

“Patrick, what's wrong?” You murmured looking over for a moment with a draw in your eyebrows. “Nothing. Nothing.” He shook his head settling down. You watched him shift his arm again so it didn’t press against the boy who now seemed fully enraptured by the movie. 

You watched him struggle for a moment before finally taking sympathy for him and reaching over to move his arm to rest on the pillows behind you both. Patrick’s arm tenses for a moment before his fingers graze against your shoulders.

You both settle back, matching smiles pulling at your lips.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Okay. He’s down.” 

Patrick glanced up from the plate he’d been washing as you entered the kitchen. “Nine years old and still demands his mom puts him to bed huh?”

“He’s still young!” You smiled moving to place a stray cup away before shutting the cupboard. “In a few years, he isn’t gonna even wanna be living in the same house as me.”

Patrick chuckled placing a plate on the drying rack. “I find that hard to believe. I don’t remember making my mom pancakes on Mother’s Day at the age of nine.” A quiet hum left you as he turned grabbing a tea towel to dry his hands. 

“I'm also pretty sure he was very clear that you shouldn’t be anywhere near the stove today?” He raised an eyebrow as you shrugged him off leaning against the counter. “Hey, I'm technically not near it.” You gestured across the kitchen. “You’re the one stood by it.”

Looking back he pursed his lips seeing you were correct. “Touche.” You watched as he placed the towel down before slowly approaching you. Your hip rested against the counter as he came to stand before you, his eyes trailing over your face for a moment.

His lips curled slightly as his eyes softened. “Your ex is possibly the stupidest guy alive, " he murmured after a moment. Your eyes narrowed briefly before a quiet laugh left your lips at his comment. “What?”

“He’s the stupidest guy alive for ever letting you go.”

Your breath caught for a moment as his words registered. He hummed quietly his hand reaching over to rub over your waist for a moment gently. “Well…his loss is someone else's gain.” You said, your voice was soft almost as if you were scared to talk too loud and break the moment.

The last time he’d touched you like this was minutes before you’d both ended up tangled in your sheets but this seemed different. Last time the only emotion you’d felt besides a slight disdain was lust. Now though? Now lust was the last thing on your mind.

“Patrick,” You sighed. “I can’t do another one-night stand. Noah needs stability an-”

“Hey. I’m not looking for another one-night stand.” He reassured. “If that's what I’d wanted I wouldn’t be standing in your kitchen five months after we already had one.” His thumb rubbed slow circles as his other hand hesitantly brushed a strand of your hair back before cupping your cheek. 

“Just…let me prove it to you alright? Prove that I’m serious about this.  About you and Noah.” You felt yourself leaning into his touch almost like two magnets finally being close enough to attract after months of teatheing on the edge. 

“Patrick you don’t need to prove that.” His eyebrows furrowed as you spoke confusion flashing across his features for a moment. “You proved that to me the minute you woke up at 6 am this morning to help him make pancakes.” His eyes lit up almost as you laughed quietly.

“So…If I asked you out properly you won't hit me.” He grinned feeling on cloud nine as you rolled your eyes pretending to think for a moment.

“You get one chance.”

[blissfullyecho]

A Very Niche Level-Up + Looksmaxxing Idea List for 2025

This list is for the girls that get it. It’s niche and not for everyone, but I’m throwing up at the fact that every “how to level up in 2025” post talks about journaling sad pages 24/7, drinking 8 cups of water a day, and walking 10k steps. How original.

Again, this is a very niche set of ideas. If you can’t relate then you can’t relate. But if you enjoy a good plastic surgery post and luxe lifestyle, maybe you will :)

1. Upgrade your car. We’re getting the Lexus’, the BMW’s, the Mercedes, the Jag’s, etc.

2. Upgrade your home. We’re living in high rises, we’re living in coastal areas, we’re living up in the mountains, we’re living where Amazon can drop our package off and we don’t have to worry about a porch pirate; we’re living in nice areas and in nice units/homes.

3. Breast augmentation.

4. Rhinoplasty.

5. Medical grade skincare.

6. Fresh, organic whole foods; focusing on lean protein, nuts and seeds, mushrooms, onions, leafy greens, pro/prebiotics, sea moss gel, etc.

7. Russian manicures and pedicures or a good acrylic set. Dip powder had its thing for a while but I’m not going to dip my nail in a powder everyone else dipped their nails. I bet they don’t even wash their hands and if they did, they prob didn’t even use soap.

8. Laser hair removal. Everywhere. If you want a design down there that’s cool, but you literally use the bathroom and it drips in the hair. “Oh but I use a wipe”. Okay, next time you need to wash your hair.. don’t use shampoo. Use a wipe. Invest in a bidet but still, hair shouldn’t be in your 🍑 or near the sensitive areas of your 🦋 the top is fine but if you have a period, pee, or “the other thing”, hair should be no where near those areas.

9. Lip filler. Everyone can benefit. Ask for a pout that sticks out a little bit. I don’t suggest a lip flip, I couldn’t do anything with a lip flip and it was driving me nuts.

10. Fake tan. Sunlight is fine but a spray tan just makes you look a million times better. Every skin tone and every race benefits from a spray tan. Trust.

11. Muscle definition. Muscle looks so much better than fat AND bones. You want muscle. Did you see how Bella Hadid had her foot on our necks at the VS fashion show this year? I was sickkkkkk.

12. Long hair. But if you have a face shape like Hailey Beiber, short hair looks better.

13. Makeup. Remember water-based products and oil-based products don’t mix, so make sure you choose your products wisely so your makeup doesn’t separate and you look a mess.

14. A better paying job. I left my hospital job and now I work in luxury real estate and international yacht sales.

15. Red light therapy for face and body. I have a body red light therapy dome that I got online for around $3,000 (USD) and it’s life. The one I have for the face is from Sephora and I spent like $400-$500 on that one. Whatever it says on the website.

16. Lashes. If you’re a pro at strip lashes, then yes. But I get my lashes done. Do not go crazy. Natural lashes are in so I ask for a classic whispy set focused for thickening my lash line and NOT for length.

17. Morpheus8 for skin tightening. I used it on my inner thighs and it literally saved my life

18. Lipo. If you’re a good candidate, get it. Sometimes belly pooch is hard to lose. I don’t have a pooch but I’m sure when I have kids I will.

19. Vampire facials. I can confidently say my best facials were vampire facials. My med spa charges around $950 for each facial

20. People can tell you’re wearing Shein. Their clothes are cute online but I’m going to hold your hand when I say this, they never look flattering in person when they’re being worn. People can see the loose thread and the see-through material. They also don’t fit anyone well and makes a lot of you look square. You get what you pay for in clothing. Learn about the basics of clothing and you’ll quickly only buy quality.

Yeah this list isn’t meant for everyone, but walking 10,000 steps isn’t going to take you to the next level. Neither is drinking water. They’re good habits, but they’re not going to level you up. And yeah I understand my list requires having money, but this is literally what my blog is about.

My 2025 Mindset Level Up book is here!

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Sleep Tight (Sam’s Version)

Part 2 of Uncaged

(it’s not absolutely necessary to read part 1 first, but it would help with context)

Sam Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by @outof-spite

Synopsis: you can’t fall asleep, so you go to your big brother

Sam took the couch in Bobby’s spare room and let you have the bed. You nearly jumped in surprise at how far the bed dipped when you sat on it—it had been so long since you’d been in a real bed. You pulled the blankets over yourself, laying back and trying to get used to how soft the bed was.

You laid still, but it still wasn’t comfortable; the way the bed sank and moved with any micro change you made was unnerving. You tried to close your eyes, but as soon as you did, you snapped them back open.

You hadn’t closed your eyes for lack of uncontrollable exhaustion in…in…you couldn’t even remember how long.

It made you vulnerable. You tried again, forcing your eyes shut and counting.

1…2…3…4…5…6…

Your heart rate was picking up with every second that ticked by. You heard rather than felt your breathing pick up.

7…8…9…

You snapped your eyes open and sat up suddenly, taking deep gulps of air as you willed your heart to slow down.

You squinted in the dim light and saw Sam lying on the couch. His eyes were open, but he was completely spaced out and staring at the ceiling. You slid off your bed and made your way to him.

You made a tiny sound in the back of your throat when you were next to him, not wanting to scare him. His eyes flicked to you, but he didn’t say anything.

You leaned down, joining Sam on the couch. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively.

“We really should sleep,” Sam mumbled. It was the only protest he made, and it was a weak one—you both knew it was futile. “Hey, how about we share the bed?” He suggested. “It’s bigger.”

You let Sam do the work—he lifted you in his arms as he stood and the two of you got comfy on the bed.

You laid diagonally across the bed, your feet far away from Sam’s while you used him as a pillow.

Sam almost said “you know there’s pillows on this bed, right?”—he would have, a few years ago. But not this time.

He understood your need to feel his heartbeat; he understood needing to know that your sibling was alive, and near, and ok. So he said nothing.

Sam wrapped his arm around you.

“You can close your eyes,” he said. “You know I’ll wake you up if I see anything.”

“You should sleep,” you whispered.

“How about this?” The rumble of Sam’s chest under you was already starting to lull you. “How about we take shifts, like…” Sam swallowed. You knew what he was going to say.

“Like we did in the cage.”

But you didn’t want him to say it, so you interrupted.

“Ok,” you agreed. “I…I’ll try.”

Sam pressed his lips to your forehead.

“Thank you.”

And slowly but surely, Sam heard your breathing even out as your eyes fluttered shut.

“We’re gonna be ok,” he whispered.

He never told you about the vision of Lucifer sitting in the corner.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

[lanf1an]

seasons lando norris x fewtrell sister pt. 10 - 24 december 2025

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9

wordcount: 1875

The morning after felt surreal, but there was no time to process it. Lando had to leave early for a McLaren training camp. You remembered him mentioning it in passing, not thinking too much about it, but now the timing felt cruel. You had barely opened your eyes when you heard him moving around the room.

His hoodie was already on, his bag slung over his shoulder. He glanced at you as he pulled the zipper closed, his expression unreadable. He moved towards the bed, kissing your forehead as if that was the most normal thing to do. 

“Morning,” he said, voice rough.

“Morning,” you replied, suddenly hyperaware of the intimacy between you.

“You’re leaving already?” you asked, your voice still raspy from sleep.

“Yeah,” He looked at the door briefly, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“See you at the lodge yeah?” He said standing up ‘’We’ll talk’’

Before you could respond, he stepped back, offering you a small smile. “Don’t overthink it, okay?”

You nodded, but your mind was already racing.

-

The ski trip was early this year, with everyone’s conflicting schedules, it fell during Christmas and New Years again, like old times. It was Christmas eve when you all arrived, your families spiralling into chaos directly with the preparations. 

You sat by the window, staring out at the snowy expanse, but your focus was elsewhere—on the familiar figure lounging across the room. Lando was leaning back in an armchair, his dark hoodie tugged over his hair, talking to your dad and Max, but his sharp gaze was fixed on you. The memory of that night haunted you—the way his lips had claimed yours, the way he’d pressed you into your bed, making promises with his touch you’d never heard him say aloud. But then the morning came, and there was no time. He had left in a rush, and the silence that followed was deafening, you had texted a bit, but it wasn’t enough. Now, surrounded by your families, the space between you felt unbearable. Every glance, every subtle brush of his hand against yours—it was like he wanted to pick up where you left off but couldn’t. Christmas eve was hectic, as it always was. Between skiing in the morning, a late lunch that stretched into early evening, and the chaos of unwrapping presents, there was no moment to breathe—and no opportunity for you and Lando to talk. 

When the night had finally come to an end, you were in your bedroom getting ready for bed, you heard the faint creak of the door behind you, and your heart stopped. Turning, you found Lando standing there, his hand on the doorknob, his hoodie now off, hair tousled.

“Are you insane?” you hissed, rushing over to push him back into the hallway. But he caught your wrist, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.

“Relax. Everyone’s asleep,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing, though his eyes were anything but playful. “I couldn’t just leave things like this.”

Your breath hitched. “Lando, we can’t—Max is in the next room. If anyone—”

“I’ve missed you.” he murmured, stepping closer, his hands finding your waist. 

The words sent a shiver through you, your resolve crumbling as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly at first, then with more insistence. You melted into him, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as he backed you toward the bed.

“Lando,” you whispered against his lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to speak. “We have to be quiet.”

He grinned, his forehead resting against yours. “Then you better keep me in check.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him to leave, but when his lips met yours again, all resistance crumbled. His kiss was slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world, even though you both knew he didn’t. Your hands tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer as he shifted, laying you back against the pillows.

His lips found yours again, his hand sliding up under your shirt, his touch igniting every nerve. The fear of being caught only made everything more intense, every whispered word, every soft sigh heightening the moment. You still didn’t talk, but your bodies said enough.

When he finally slipped out of your room hours later, the sky outside was starting to lighten, and you were left staring at the ceiling, your heart racing and your body still buzzing from his touch.

-

The next morning, you woke to the sound of Max banging on your door.

“Get up! We’re leaving in ten minutes,” he shouted.

You groaned, rolling over and burying your face in your pillow. Sleep had been elusive after Lando had left, your mind replaying every moment, every kiss, every touch.

Breakfast was a chaotic affair, as it always was with both families in the house. Lando was already at the table when you came downstairs, sitting next to Max and laughing at something your dad had said. He looked perfectly at ease, like he hadn’t spent half the night in your bed. You, on the other hand, felt like you were going to combust every time his knee brushed against yours under the table or his eyes met yours across the room. How had it come to this? Not being able to act normal around your best friend.

After a full day of skiing and another chaotic christmas dinner, Max was talking about the Christmas special Quadrant stream event they had planned. 

“We’ve got an event to stream, and it’ll be easier if we’re in the same room,” Max said to Lando casually, oblivious to the way your stomach dropped at his words.

“That’s a terrible idea,” Lando blurted out, earning a surprised look from Max.

“Why? We’ve done it before, we have to stream until late hours” Max said, shrugging. “Unless you’ve got some other reason to not want to share with me?”

Lando glanced at you briefly, his jaw tightening before he shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Whatever.” Max raised his eyebrows at him but didn’t press further.

Between Max’s constant presence and the impossibility of sneaking around, the tension between you and Lando only grew. And as New Year’s Eve arrived, the lodge buzzing with excitement as your families prepared for the celebration. The living room had been transformed into a cozy party space. You tried to focus on the festivities, chatting with your parents and helping set up the table with finger foods and champagne glasses. But your mind kept drifting to Lando. He was on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall with a glass of wine in hand, talking to Max and your dad. He looked too good in his black sweater and jeans, his hair perfectly messy, his smile easy and charming. Every time his gaze flickered to you, it felt like a physical touch, making your heart race.

As midnight approached, the group scattered around the place, counting down the minutes. Your parents were laughing, your mom sipping champagne while your dad cracked jokes. Max was fiddling with his phone, probably trying to text and call P, while Lando stood close by, his attention divided between the countdown and you.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The countdown began, voices mingling with the music as the excitement in the room built.

Your heart pounded as you locked eyes with Lando from across the room. The way he looked at you—intense, longing, like he couldn’t wait another second—made your breath catch. You knew what he was thinking because you were thinking it too.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” Cheers erupted, glasses clinking, and the room filled with hugs and laughter.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you slipped out of the living room and into the dimly lit hallway. The noise of the party faded as you leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath. You didn’t have to wait long. Lando appeared seconds later, his eyes scanning the hall until they landed on you. He didn’t say a word as he closed the distance between you, pushing you further against the wall, his hands finding your waist and pulling you close. His lips were on yours before you could speak, the kiss fierce and hungry, like he’d been holding back for far too long.

“Happy New Year,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough.

“Happy New Year” you whispered, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you grabbed the front of his sweater, pulling him closer.  His fingers tightened on your waist, and you knew you were both teetering on the edge of losing control. “Let’s go upstairs” he whispered. 

He grabbed your hand, leading you down the hallway and up the stairs, his grip warm and steady.

The party continued below, the sound of music and laughter muffled as you slipped into your room. 

His lips found yours again, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt, and you couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped you. Every movement was careful, deliberate, as if the risk of being caught only made it more intoxicating. You were so lost in him that you didn’t hear the soft creak of the floorboards outside until it was too late.

“What the hell?” Max’s voice was a sharp whisper, and you froze, your blood turning to ice.

Lando jerked back, his eyes wide as he stared at the door, which had opened just enough for Max’s face to peek through. Your brother looked equal parts horrified and furious.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Max muttered, pushing the door open fully. “Are you serious right now?”

“Max, it’s not what it looks like,” you started, but even you didn’t believe the words.

“Not what it—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair as he stepped into the room. “You’re joking, right? In the middle of the night? While everyone’s downstairs?”

Lando stood, hands raised in a gesture. “Max, I can explain.”

Max pointed a finger at him, his glare sharp enough to cut. “Oh, you’d better. Because this—” He gestured between the two of you. “—is not happening. ”

“Max,” you said, your voice pleading. “Can we not do this right now?”

“No, we’re doing this now,” he snapped. “What the hell are you two thinking?”

Lando glanced at you, his expression unreadable, before turning back to Max. “Look, I get it. You’re upset. But—”

“Upset doesn’t even cover it, mate,” Max interrupted. “This is my sister.”

“I know that” Lando shot back, his tone firmer now. “And you’re my best friend.”

The room went silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, Max let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered. “I need some air.”

He turned and left without another word, leaving the door ajar behind him. You stared at the empty doorway, your heart still racing, before turning to Lando.

“Well,” you said weakly. “That went well. Great start of the new year”

He gave you a rueful smile, sitting back down beside you. “Could’ve been worse.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“Might’ve walked in five minutes later,” he said, and despite everything, you couldn’t help but laugh.

WN: I think we are coming to an end nonetheless :( Probably in the next part. Maybe a sequel, or a new story, not sure yet. :(

tl: @ash88-yep @lewishamiltonismybf @harrysdimple05 @lex2205 @il0vereadingstuff @martygraciesversion381 @joannaln4 @obxstiles@chaoswithus @motorsportloverf1 @therovanperaastonmartini@acesofspadess @widow-cevans @irisesinthegarden @ncrsbrg @f1fantasys @norrisainz33 @mayax2o07 @ipushhimback @milkysoop @annimausi @basicchelsea

[vxm1tcxre]

Pvrging harm reduction masterpost (from someone who’s had severe bul1m14 for 3 years, and who wishes they’d gotten this advice)

I get asked a lot and see posts asking for “tips” around pvrging.

I absolutely do not condone it. It’s a horrendously dangerous, unpleasant, and addictive behavior, and often a slippery slope to full-swing bul1m14 (and trust me, that is not something you want, for the sake of your wallet and sanity).

However, I do acknowledge that that doesn’t get in the way of the urge to do it. It certainly didn’t for me. That’s not how 3ds work. Being told how dangerous and horrible something is often is just more enticing. I know people are going to try it regardless. And frankly, I’d much rather focus on tips to stay safe over just telling you “don’t do it” like a Christian parent preaching abstinence. Harm reduction is king, especially on a platform like 3dblr.

So, here is a list of things to help you stay safe.

1. I feel like I should reiterate this again- if you at all can, don’t start. It’s not the c4ls-be-gone magic spell it might seem to be. Starting is what ended my r3str1ct1v3 phase. I thought it’d just be a last resort for when I ate too much. Fast forward to now, it’s been 3 years since my first time and I consume a good 6k+ c4ls every single day, have g4ined a ton of w3ight, feel like shit all the time, have no control around food, am constantly broke, have done things that would make people gag, and have all the risk with no reward. Ultimately, you will not l0se w3ight with pvrging. It gets harder and less effective the longer you do it. While the “you can only get rid of 50%” you often hear is a myth, being bul1m1c destroys your control, and eating maintenance in addition to whatever c4ls you didn’t manage to pvrge will inevitably lead to w3ight gain over time. It simply isn’t worth it.

2. DO NOT USE FOREIGN OBJECTS. It is legitimately so dangerous. Massive choking hazard and generally terrible for your throat. If you can’t get a response with your fingers, don’t do it. I promise, getting rid of some chicken nuggets is not worth getting a plastic fork lodged down your throat and almost dying. (Yes, I am speaking from experience)

3. Some people are simply incapable of inducing v0m1t1ng. It’s more common than is talked about and is completely normal. Frankly, if you have urges to pvrge and find that you can’t do it, consider it a sign.

4. Do not brush your teeth directly after. This is because the bristles of your toothbrush will rub the acid into your enamel, increasing the chances of decay.

5. Baking soda is magic. Swish about a teaspoon with some water in your mouth to neutralize the acid. Swallowing some (significantly less- about 1/4 to 1/2 tsp) is also an easy remedy for acid reflux. Get checked and have your teeth cleaned at the dentist’s regularly- if damage starts occurring, you can catch and mitigate it early.

6. Maintain good dental health as much as you can. Continue to brush and floss regularly. Keep in mind, however, that you can’t avoid tooth decay forever. It’s inevitable with long-term pvrging.

7. One of the biggest risks is electrolyte deficiencies. You often hear of people dying from cardiac arrest. This is because thr0wing up depletes your potassium, which helps with muscle contraction. Your heart is a muscle. If it’s unable to contract, it will fail. After pvrging, replenish your electrolytes. Coconut water, Gatorade, pedialyte, anything that contains the nutrients you just got rid of.

8. Also remember to stay normally hydrated. Even just drinking water is better than nothing. pvrging dehydrates you.

9. DO NOT FLUSH. It’s one of the most dangerous games you can play.

10. Try and eat something safe after the fact, especially if you’re having symptoms of low blood sugar (shaking, dizziness, sweating, a rapid heartbeat). This can be easier said than done but it’s crucial to getting back to normal. Something easy on your stomach with some c4rbs is ideal- toast, rice cakes, crackers, etc.

11. Avoid hot showers or baths or exercising directly after. You will lose more water through sweating. Wash your hands and face- especially around your chin and mouth, pvrge-induced acne is a real thing- and rest for a while.

12. Warm drinks or cold foods like popsicles or ice cream are very soothing on the throat. Throat coat tea and hot chocolate are quite nice. The former may be best if your stomach isn’t feeling well.

13. You will bloat like crazy whenever you eat if you pvrge long term. It’s hell on your digestive tract in general. It’s one of my biggest struggles and pet peeves. Honestly, you can only really wait for it to go away. Remember that it will with time, and do something to distract yourself from it. Some things that in my experience have made it less severe are to eat at a reasonable pace, chew your food thoroughly, and sip drinks rather than chugging them.

14. L4x4t1v3s absolutely aren’t worth it. You don’t really get rid of anything and it’s a fast track to dependency and being horrifically constipated whenever you don’t use them. Stay away. If you must, opt for natural remedies like teas, fiber-rich foods, chia seeds, etc.

15. If you take medication, wait several hours before pvrging. It obviously won’t work if you just get rid of it.

Feel free to reblog this with any advice of your own. I hope this helps some of you; stay safe out there.

[just-aake]

Everlasting Devotion - Part VI

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel of Boundless Devotion Series. MedievalAU. With her coronation over, Natasha is now the queen of the Romanov Kingdom. However, the position comes with challenges from both old and new enemies as Natasha tries to maintain the peace while also navigating her relationship with you.

Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Warnings: light angst

Words: 6225

The metal glove left behind by the attacker a few days ago rests on the simple wooden table, its presence out of place in the otherwise humble surroundings.

Around you, the room is still sparsely furnished with little more than the bare essentials.

You sit across from Bucky, watching intently as he examines the piece of armor. The silence stretches on, thick with unspoken thoughts, until you can no longer keep your curiosity at bay. 

“So, what do you think?” you ask, your voice cutting through the quiet.

Bucky tilts his head, scrutinizing the glove with a practiced eye before finally shaking his head, a frown tugging at his lips.

“I’ve never seen this type of weapon before,” he admits, his tone carrying the weight of years of experience. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if it was made by someone from the Stark kingdom.”

You lean in closer, your interest piqued at his answer.

“How can you tell?” 

Bucky gestures to the details on the glove, pointing out subtle features that had escaped your attention.

“The design—these engravings and the traces of rare metal used—is very similar to the signatures of weapons crafted when I was still the Captain.” 

His fingers trace the outline of the glove’s surface until they rest on the top, where the dull, gray stone is embedded.  

“This, however,” he continues, his voice dropping to a wary tone, “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” 

He looks up at you, eyes serious and filled with curious suspicion.

“You said it was glowing?”

You furrow your brows as you stare at the stone in thought, focusing hard as you try to recall the chaos of the attack before giving a slight nod of your head.

“I think that’s what I saw glowing from the shadows during the attack,” you begin slowly, trying to piece together the memories. “And what caused that blinding flash when the attacker escaped. But after everything calmed down…”

You pause, the words catching in your throat as you struggle to explain the strange occurrence that followed.

“One moment, I was heading towards the twins, and the next…I’m kneeling beside this glove with my hand hovering above the stone.” 

You lock eyes with Bucky, giving him a worried expression.

“I can’t seem to remember what happened in between,” you admit, your voice tinged with frustration and a growing sense of unease. “It’s as if that time was completely erased from my mind.” 

You glance down at your hand, the one that had hovered so closely over the stone. 

“I think...the stone did something to my memories when I reached for it.” 

Closing your eyes briefly, you take a deep breath, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. You think about the recent gaps and blurry memories in your mind, like how you failed to remember the moments after Dreykov captured you.

“And I have this feeling—it’s not the first time,” you admit quietly.

Bucky’s expression hardens with a mix of concern and sympathetic understanding of what you’re implying. 

“Do you have any idea or…”

You grimace apologetically, hesitating as you acknowledge the reason you came to Bucky with this unsettling situation.

“…experience with what it could be?” 

Thankfully, he isn’t offended by your question.

Instead, he leans back slightly, his expression thoughtful as he considers your words. After a moment of contemplation, he begins to speak, his tone measured and reflective.

“You know, your father—” he starts, but when he notices you tense, he quickly corrects himself, “Howard Stark was researching something similar to what Dreykov and the Romanovs were working on. The whole mind control possibility. Of course, he never knew about their success in that field, but he did explore a different angle, something leaning more towards the mystical elements.” 

Intrigued by the revelation, you think about the book you received from Melina, wondering if his notes on such topics might be included there.

Bucky’s voice pulls you from your thoughts as he continues.

“Before he…died, he was close to figuring out how to harness the powers of sorcerers for non-magically inclined people. More specifically, the power of those with innate abilities to influence others’ minds,” he says, giving you a pointed look. “Like your powerful little friend.” 

Bucky pauses, letting his words sink in before addressing the question that’s been looming ever since you mentioned the stone and its possible effects on your memories.

“Speaking of which, why haven’t you asked her to take a look inside your mind? See if she can figure out what’s wrong.”

You sigh sadly at his suggestion. The idea of asking Wanda had crossed your mind, but you’ve been reluctant to push her, given her current condition.

“She’s still shaken from the attack and from how her powers accidentally hurt me,” you explain. “I’ll consider asking her when she feels better, but I thought maybe you might have some ideas too.” 

Bucky gives you a slight smirk, his eyes softening.

“Well, maybe next time, try not to touch things you don’t understand yet.”

You chuckle lightly, the tension easing just a bit as you glance around the small home. 

The cabin is simple, built from weathered wood that blends seamlessly with the surrounding forest. The only sounds you hear outside are the rustling leaves and the occasional chirp of a distant bird. 

“You know, I could always get you someplace with more room,” you offer, shifting the conversation to lighter topics. 

Bucky shakes his head, glancing around the space he’s come to know as his own. 

“I like this. It’s simple.”

“And isolated,” you add pointedly, your gaze sweeping the quiet surroundings. “Far from town and people. Have you even had any other visitors besides me?”

“I go into town occasionally for supplies, and I meet with Steve in the clearing sometimes for a spar,” Bucky defends, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“So you don’t even invite him over?” you ask with a hint of disappointment before encouraging him gently. “This is your chance to live without always worrying about looking over your shoulders.”

“I am living. This is the most peace I’ve had in years,” Bucky replies, his voice steady with conviction. He nods at you, his expression filled with gratitude and trust. “And I’m content to have one person I trust know where I am for now.”

You return his nod with a small smile, relenting with a sigh. 

Your occasional visits have made Bucky more comfortable and open with you recently, and you don’t want to push him too much.

“Alright then, I should head home,” you say, rising from your seat and carefully placing the glove back into your satchel.

“To prepare for the intimidation from the other council members today?” Bucky guesses knowingly, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I don’t miss that.”

You nod, a rueful smile crossing your face at the reminder.

“I also have some people coming today to start on the repairs for the gates.” 

As you reach the door, you pause and suggest, “You should visit sometime.” 

Bucky offers a small, appreciative smile but shakes his head. 

“Thank you, but I’m not good at meeting new people,” he replies.

You nod in understanding and bid him farewell before making your way to where your horse is waiting. As you ride through the quiet forest, your thoughts drift back to the satchel at your side. 

The strange events surrounding the stone still weigh heavily on your mind, and you wonder if you should ask Natasha for her thoughts on the situation.  

It’s been days since you last saw her, and the ache of missing her has settled deep in your chest. But now, with the upcoming council meeting providing a chance to see her without raising suspicion, you’re faced with a different challenge: pretending that you’re not in love with her. 

That’s easier said than done, considering you were exposed so quickly last time when your gaze lingered on Natasha just a little too long. 

Maybe you should avoid looking directly at her during the meeting. Hopefully, that might help conceal your feelings from the others.

As you near your manor, the sound of raised voices pulls you from your thoughts. In the distance, you recognize Pietro's voice, sharp and edged with anger.

“You can’t just spread your stuff everywhere like this! I work in this area!” Pietro exclaims, clearly frustrated.

"Where else am I supposed to set up?” Tony retorts impatiently. “In case you forgot, I’m supposed to be fixing this gate.”

Sighing in exasperation, you urge your horse forward, hurrying to intervene before their argument escalates.

As you approach, Tony's taunting voice cuts through the air.

“Let's be honest, is there really a need for you here? What's the point of a gatekeeper with no gate?” he quips, clearly enjoying his own provocation.

Quickly, you bring your horse to a halt in front of Pietro, blocking his path before things can get worse. Dismounting smoothly, you step between the two, determined to diffuse the tension.

“Don’t listen to him, Pietro,” you say, ruffling his hair with a fond smile. “You’re very much needed here.”

Offering him the reins, you add, “Could you please take the horse back to the stables for me?”

Though still clearly irritated, Pietro takes the reins and heads off, but not without shooting a glare at Tony over his shoulder.

Tony, unfazed, flashes a smug grin and waves mockingly after Pietro. When he turns back to you, you meet his gaze with a stern, disapproving look.

“That was uncalled for,” you say firmly. 

Tony shrugs, clearly unbothered by your reprimand. 

“It’s a tough world. If he can’t handle a bit of honest criticism, he’ll have a rough time in life,” he replies, his tone unapologetic.

Then, pointing at you, he adds, “And you can’t keep coddling him.”

You brush his hand aside dismissively.

“I’m not coddling him. I look out for him because he's someone I care about. There's a difference.”

Tony shudders dramatically.

“Sounds exhausting. Me, I only ever had to look out for myself. You should try it more often—really helps lower the stress,” he quips, waving at your disapproving frown.

“How about you just focus on the gate?” you suggest, gesturing toward the entrance. “It seems like Vision is the only one taking this job seriously.” 

Near the entrance, Vision stands at the remnants of the broken gates and hinges, meticulously measuring and taking notes with a notepad and quill in hand.

Tony smirks and gestures dramatically toward himself.

“He wouldn’t be doing that if I hadn’t told him to, so in a way, that’s all thanks to me.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms with an exasperated sigh. 

“You really love complimenting yourself, don’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Tony responds with a grin. “It’s called confidence. If I don’t believe in myself, how could I expect others to?”

You pause, caught off guard by his answer.

Just when you think you’ve figured him out, he drops a casually insightful comment like this that makes you reconsider what sort of person you thought he was.

Before you can respond, Vision approaches with his calm and focused demeanor.

“I've documented all the specifications for the gates. Shall I move on to the outer walls now, or would you prefer I wait for later?” Vision asks.

You raise a hand, stopping him, your brows knitting together in confusion.

“Outer walls? I never mentioned anything about those.”

“About that," Tony interjects, gesturing at the surroundings.

“I walked around your perimeter earlier, and to be blunt, your security is pretty much non-existent. No defenses, no countermeasures against threats. For someone as protective of that kid as you are, I’m surprised you haven’t done anything about it.”

You glare at him, catching his little jab at you, but you answer calmly.

“That’s because my family’s reputation has always been enough to keep people from testing our boundaries,” you reply, before muttering under your breath, “At least it used to be.”

Vision studies you with a curious expression.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Lady Y/n, what caused the damage to the gates?”

“It was a carriage crash,” you respond smoothly, hoping the explanation will be enough without digging into the details.

Vision's brows furrow slightly as he raises a hand to his chin, clearly skeptical.

Tony notices his reaction and quirks a brow.

“What's the problem?”

Vision shakes his head lightly, his eyes drifting back to you.

“The damage suggests the gates were torn off…” he trails off as his gaze shifts to something behind you.

You turn to see what caught his attention and find Wanda approaching, her arms crossed defensively, eyeing the two strangers warily. She stops beside you, and you introduce her.

“This is Wanda, Pietro’s twin sister.”

“Oh great, another one,” Tony mutters under his breath.

Wanda’s eyes narrow at his comment, and she gives Tony a sharp once-over before turning to you with a questioning look.

You sigh inwardly, marveling at how quickly Tony manages to get on the twins' bad side with so little effort.

Leaning closer to her, you whisper, "Be nice. We didn’t have any other options."

Wanda’s lips press into a thin line, clearly displeased, but she turns to Tony, her tone calm and commanding.

“Your things are blocking the entrance. You need to move them.”

To your surprise, Vision quietly excuses himself, stepping away, and begins moving their tools and supplies to the side. You can’t help but smile in mild amusement, wondering if Wanda noticed his reaction to her.

Tony, however, remains where he is, letting out a huff of disbelief at Vision’s actions before chuckling as he turns back to the two of you.

He reaches out as if to pat Wanda on the head.

“For someone so small, you sure know how to act like you’re in charge.”

Your eyes widen in alarm, but before you can intervene, it’s too late.

Wanda’s eyes flare red, and Tony’s hand freezes mid-air, wrapped in the familiar glow of her power.

A brief flicker of surprise crosses Tony’s face as he glances between Wanda and his immobilized hand.

Then, with an understanding smirk, he remarks, “Well, looks like we found the culprit who really destroyed the gates.”

You quickly step forward, placing a calming hand on Wanda’s shoulder, pulling her protectively closer to you.

“The crash destroyed the gates, not Wanda,” you say firmly, your tone carrying a warning as you glare at Tony.

Still smirking, Tony raises his free hand in mock surrender.

“If you say so.” He nods toward his trapped hand. “Mind letting this go? Kinda need it to do my job—assuming you still want my help.”

With a reluctant sigh, you glance at Wanda, who continues to glare at Tony, and give her a nod to let him go.

After a moment, the red glow fades from her eyes, and Tony’s hand is released. He rubs his wrist, his grin never faltering.

“I wouldn’t provoke her any further if I were you,” you warn, your voice low but clear.

“Noted,” Tony replies, still grinning. Then, with a teasing smirk, he adds, “So, anyone else you’re coddling that I should meet before I get started?”

You roll your eyes and turn to leave, guiding Wanda away with you.

“I don't like him,” Wanda mutters. Then, with a hint of concern, she asks, “Can we even trust someone like him?"

Her question lingers in the air as you weigh your thoughts.

Despite his arrogance and sarcasm, Tony doesn’t strike you as a bad person. He clearly has the skills for the job, and beneath the bravado, there’s something capable and dependable about him.

“I think we can,” you reply honestly, though a nagging feeling lingers concerning something else.

Based on what you've observed, Tony doesn’t appear to you as just some ordinary traveler visiting the kingdom. Your instincts tell you there’s something more.

With a slight shake of your head, you push the thought aside for later and decide to focus on what's next.

“Come on, help me get ready for the council meeting.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha strides purposefully across the courtyard toward the council room, her mind racing about the impending meeting.

Suddenly, Steve’s voice cut through her focus, pulling her back to the present.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, concern evident in his tone.

She stops at the edge of the training grounds, turning to face him. Her expression hardens slightly, reflecting the frustration she’s been harboring for the past few days.

“I’d feel a lot better if we weren’t about to waste time on a pointless interrogation,” she replies, her voice tinged with irritation. “What do they even hope to accomplish with this?” 

Steve places a comforting pat on her shoulder.

“I understand how you feel,” he says softly, his tone both supportive and firm. “But people like Lord Sitwell need to feel in control. Maybe going through the motions with this will calm him and the others down.”

Natasha’s eyes flicker with a mix of annoyance and reluctant acceptance.

She knows Steve is right, but the frustration of the situation–especially with putting you in the middle of it–irritates her all the same.

Her gaze drifts past him toward the towering council chamber in the distance, wondering if you had already arrived.

The thought of seeing you is the only silver lining in this otherwise dreadful meeting.

She wonders if you feel the same.

Before she can dwell on it, a voice rings out, sharp and urgent.

“Careful! On your left!” 

Natasha reacts instinctively, stepping to the side just as a shadow swoops down, brushing the space where she had stood moments before.

The bird completes its dive and soars back into the sky with a few strong beats of its wings. 

Her gaze follows the bird’s path as it circles back and lands gracefully on the arm of a knight approaching them.

The knight dips his head apologetically as he nears.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, Captain,” he says with a small bow. “Redwing got a little excited.” 

Natasha tilts her head, eyeing the bird with mild curiosity.

“Redwing?” she asks. 

The knight nods, lifting his arm to show the bird more clearly.

“My falcon. See the red streak of feathers on his wings? He’s cute, isn’t he?” He grins, clearly proud of his feathered friend, and holds the bird closer. “Would you like to pet him?” 

Natasha eyes the falcon warily, noting the bird's sharp beak and calculating gaze.

“I’m good,” she replies dryly, stepping back. 

Steve chuckles and takes the opportunity to introduce the knight properly.

“This is Sir Sam Wilson and his companion, Redwing.” 

Natasha gives a curt nod of understanding and acknowledgment.

“The knight you trust with your life,” she guesses.

Sam raises an amused brow, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. 

“Aw, Captain, I’m honored. Though maybe if you didn’t keep finding trouble, I wouldn’t have to save you so often.” 

Steve groans, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.

“Alright, alright. I didn’t bring you here to make fun of me,” he says, gesturing toward Natasha. “You mentioned you had something to report, and I figured we both needed to hear it.” 

Sam’s playful demeanor shifts as he straightens, adopting a more professional tone.

“Right. I’ve got good news and bad news,” he begins, gently urging Redwing to move from his arm to his shoulder.

The falcon complies, ruffling its feathers as it settles in.

“The good news is that I’ve dismissed all of Councillor Ross’ spies. It doesn’t seem like he’s sending any more, so for now, the only person keeping an eye on Lady Y/n’s movements is you, Your Majesty.”

Natasha’s jaw tightens, and she grimaces at his choice of words. 

“You’re not surveilling her,” she corrects, her voice firm. “The goal is to watch for potential threats, not to…monitor her.”

Steve sighs quietly, meeting her gaze with a serious expression.

“I still think you should at least let Lady Y/n know. I’m not sure how she’d feel about this if she found out, especially considering…everything recently.”

He hesitates before continuing, his eyes softening with sympathy.

“If you regret the breakup, maybe it’s better to talk to her about it rather than doing all this.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief, offended at the suggestion of ulterior motives.

“This has nothing to do with that!” she snaps.

Beside Steve, Sam raises his hands in mock surrender, an understanding smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey, no judgments here. I’d be curious too whether my ex was meeting with anyone after we split.”

“That’s not—” Natasha starts, but cuts herself off, groaning in frustration as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

Deciding it’s not worth her energy, she waves the comment away.

“What’s the bad news?” she asks, eager to shift the focus.

Sam’s playful demeanor fades entirely as his face grows serious. He exchanges a concerned glance with Steve before continuing.

“Lord Sitwell’s been behaving strangely these last few days. Recently, he met with some people in one of the shadier parts of town. They were demanding something from him—something that was supposed to be ready already. I overheard him promise them he’d have it by the end of the week.”

Steve’s brows furrow, his eyes narrowing in concern at the information.

“That sounds like he’s desperate,” he mutters, the implications sinking in. “Whatever he’s supposed to give them…it can’t be good.”

Natasha’s eyes narrow as her mind races, connecting the new information with a sudden thought.

“You think this has something to do with today’s meeting? It was his idea, after all,” she muses, her tone sharpening.

“It's possible,” Steve responds, nodding gravely before turning to Sam with a serious expression.

“Keep digging. Let us know as soon as you find anything. In the meantime, we’ll proceed with the meeting and see if we can figure out what Sitwell’s after.”

Sam straightens, a look of determination crossing his face.

“Will do. Redwing and I will keep you both updated on Sitwell and Lady Y/n’s situation.”

As Redwing lets out a sharp cry and soars back into the sky, Sam gives them a respectful nod and turns to leave.

Natasha and Steve watch him go, the weight of the new information heavy between them. After a moment, Natasha glances at Steve curiously.

“So, is the bird watching Y/n then?” she asks, her tone dry but with a hint of amusement.

Steve chuckles, the tension easing slightly.

“Don’t worry, Redwing’s got sharper eyes than any of us,” he replies with a grin. 

Natasha hums skeptically before turning her gaze back to the council chamber, her expression hardening once more.

“Let’s get this over with,” she says firmly, striding toward the chamber with renewed determination. 

As Natasha and Steve approach the council room doors, a familiar, anxious voice nearby interrupts the low hum of conversation from within.

Natasha makes out the soft, frantic muttering, and she instinctively turns her head in the direction of the sound.

“You go ahead,” she tells Steve.

He pauses and looks toward the sound before giving her a knowing nod and continuing toward the council chamber. 

Natasha veers off toward the balcony, following the sound of Kate Bishop’s voice.

As she draws closer, Natasha can make out Kate’s words more clearly, the younger woman’s tone laced with uncertainty and rising panic.

“What was I thinking? I don’t know the first thing about what to do in a council meeting!”

Kate’s hands flutter wildly in the air, her pacing quickening as she becomes more consumed by her spiraling thoughts.

Natasha stops outside the balcony’s entrance, watching for a moment as Kate’s obvious distress plays out before her. 

She knows the younger woman is more than capable, but this challenge is different.

The pressure of the council can be overwhelming, even for the most seasoned members.

Deciding that it’s time to step in before Kate’s anxiety spirals out of control, Natasha takes a step forward, her boots making a soft sound on the stone floor as she approaches. 

“You know,” Natasha begins, her voice calm and steady as it cuts through Kate’s rambling, “the whole reason I gave you the option was so that you could decide what's best for yourself.”

Kate jumps at Natasha’s voice, spinning around to face her. 

“Natasha! I didn’t see you there,” she exclaims, her tone tinged with a mixture of surprise and relief.

Natasha gives her a small smile, reassuring her,  “If you don’t want to be on the council, you could just refuse.”

Kate's expression shifts as her words sink in, and she quickly waves her hands in protest. 

“No, no, I’m grateful for the consideration. It’s just…what if I mess up? What if I say something stupid or make the wrong call? These people are all so experienced, and I’m just—” 

“You’re just what?” Natasha interrupts gently, raising an eyebrow. “You’re just as capable as anyone in that room, Kate. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

Kate sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of her doubts. 

“I know, but it’s still intimidating. It’s not exactly the same as shooting arrows or sparring on the training grounds. And then I couldn’t find Yelena anywhere in the castle to talk about this with her. She wasn’t at her usual spots, so that means she must’ve snuck out again—without me,” Kate rambles, her words quickening with anxiousness and exasperation.

Natasha’s expression softens in understanding as she places a reassuring hand on Kate’s shoulder, grounding her. 

“Breathe, Kate.” 

She makes a mental note about Yelena’s mysterious unknown whereabouts, tucking away that piece of information to deal with later.

For now, her focus is on calming Kate down. 

After a couple of deep breaths from Kate, Natasha asks, “What made you decide to accept the seat and join the council?” 

Kate hesitates for a moment before answering, her voice quieter now. 

“When I visited Y/n the other day, she mentioned how some on the council gave you a hard time,” Kate replies, shrugging lightly. “And I thought, maybe if I were on the council—you'd have another person on your side, you know? But now I’m not so sure if I’d be able to do anything to help you.” 

Natasha’s gaze softens, touched by Kate’s concern and the thoughtfulness behind her decision. 

“Kate, you don’t have to be perfect; you just have to be yourself,” she says, her voice filled with quiet conviction. “You’ve got a perspective that no one else on that council has. That’s valuable. And you’ve got more courage than most people I’ve ever met.”

Kate looks up at Natasha, the tension in her features easing slightly.

“Do you really think I can do this?”

“I know you can,” Natasha replies with a small, encouraging smile. “But remember, the choice is still yours. If you ever feel like you don't want to do this anymore, there’s no shame in stepping back. But if you decide to stay, know that I’m grateful to have you on my side.”

Kate takes a deep breath, her resolve strengthening.

“Okay,” she says finally, her voice firmer now. “I’ll give it a shot.”

Natasha smiles, giving Kate’s shoulder a light squeeze.

“Good. Now, let’s get in there.” 

Kate nods, her confidence returning as she walks toward the council chamber with Natasha.

As they enter, the murmurs of the council members die down, all eyes turning toward Natasha and Kate. Steve, already seated, gives them both a nod of acknowledgment. 

Natasha takes her seat beside him, her presence commanding respect without a word. 

Kate hesitates for a brief moment, but with a reassuring glance from Natasha, she moves to an empty chair further down the table. 

With her settled, Natasha’s eyes instinctively seek you out in the room. She spots you quickly enough, engaged in a conversation with Maria.

The sight of your face lit with a warm smile instantly softens the tension she’s been carrying for the past few days. 

However, as soon as your gaze meets hers, something shifts.

Your smile fades slightly, replaced by a neutral, unreadable expression. Without hesitation, you turn away from her, directing your attention back to your discussion with Maria.

The abrupt shift in your demeanor leaves Natasha momentarily unsettled, her brows furrowing slightly in confusion. 

That wasn’t the reaction she was expecting from you.

Natasha quickly masks her surprise, forcing herself to focus on the matters at hand, but the lingering question of your action remains at the back of her mind.

The meeting begins as Ross formally welcomes Kate to the council and acknowledges your presence before passing the floor to Sitwell.

Natasha’s attention sharpens as Sitwell takes the lead, his tone smooth and calculated. 

“Lady Y/n,” Sitwell begins, addressing you directly with a practiced politeness. “Were you aware of any indications about the attack that day?”

Natasha’s eyes narrow at the thinly veiled accusation in his question.

This is exactly what she had feared, Sitwell’s subtle attempt to paint you as a suspect rather than focusing on the real threat.

Her eyes flick to you, searching your face for signs of discomfort, but you remain composed and relaxed under the scrutiny.

“No,” you say calmly, your voice steady and unwavering. “My father’s early return from his trip that morning was unexpected though.”

Natasha suppresses a smirk of admiration as she watches you handle Sitwell’s probing with ease.

You’ve always had a way of turning the conversation back to the facts, refusing to be rattled.

The subtle redirection is clear—returning the focus to Dreykov, where it belongs.

But Sitwell ignores the opportunity you’ve given him to move on, and his next question cuts back toward you, determined to keep the discussion fixed on you.

“Can you remind the council again how you first became aware of the plans for the attack?” he asks, his tone pressing.

You remain unshaken, delivering your response with unwavering grace.

“We discovered correspondence between Lord Rumlow and Madam B about his next plans of action at the prison.”

Natasha watches Sitwell as he lowers his gaze to the documents in front of him, the ones Steve compiled during his investigation.

“And before that,” Sitwell presses on, “you were alone with Madam B for a short period, separated from the others. Could you tell us what happened during that time?” 

There’s a beat of silence, but you don’t flinch. Instead, you offer him a polite, practiced smile. 

“Unless you have something specific you’d like to ask, Lord Sitwell, I fail to see how my brief interaction with her is relevant to this discussion.”

The challenge in your tone is subtle, but Natasha picks up on it immediately. She can’t help but be impressed by your calm defiance.

Sitwell, however, remains undeterred. He leans forward, his tone sharpening.

“Madam B was your governess for years,” Sitwell remarks. “More importantly, she was involved in developing techniques similar to those used in the attack on the castle’s soldiers. Did she mention anything about that to you?”

Natasha exchanges a quick glance with Steve, her concern and suspicion mirrored in his eyes.

Sitwell is pushing into dangerous territory with his line of questioning, and Natasha can feel her patience start to thin at relentless probing.

“She mentioned developing a quicker way to control individuals for Lord Rumlow,” you reply calmly, not giving him more than he needs. 

Sitwell’s gaze narrows.

“Using Queen Melina’s serum, correct? A serum that was highly classified. And yet, Madam B had access to it.”

He gestures pointedly toward you.

“You’ve been known to assist Queen Melina in recent years—do you have any idea how Madam B came into possession of such sensitive information?”

Natasha clenches her fists beneath the table, her temper flaring at Sitwell’s attempt to blame you for something that was not in your control.

She’s on the verge of stepping in when Steve firmly places his hand on the table, speaking up with a calm yet authoritative voice.

“As you said, Lord Sitwell, that information is restricted. It will be handled by the appropriate parties who need to know,” Steve interjects. “We’re here to discuss Lord Dreykov’s involvement in the attack, not to speculate on unrelated matters.”

There’s a brief moment of silence as Sitwell scowls, clearly displeased by Steve’s interruption.

Natasha can feel the frustration radiating off him, but he knows better than to challenge Steve directly. With a slight sneer, he drops the subject.

“Very well,” Sitwell says, his tone now colder. “Lady Y/n, what do you believe to be the extent of your father’s involvement in the attack?” 

You remain poised, your voice calm and measured.

“We can start with how the soldiers who attacked us at the prison were his,” you respond. 

A murmur ripples through the council, and one of the members chimes in, their voice skeptical.

“But how can you be sure they were following his orders and not acting independently?”

You draw in a deep breath, and Natasha notices the subtle tightening of your jaw as you answer.

“Dreykov is all about control. He surrounds himself with those who follow his every command. Anyone who doesn’t is…dispensable.”

Sitwell seizes on your words, raising an eyebrow as he rifles through his documents before fixing his gaze on you.

“I assume that’s why you chose to return to your manor—to save your servants?” he asks, his tone dripping with disdain. “The Maximoff twins. One of whom you’ve conveniently kept secret about her dangerous abilities.” 

Your eyes flash with warning, but you maintain your composure.

“We all have our secrets, Lord Sitwell,” you reply smoothly. “Secrets we keep to protect the people we care about.”

A thin smile creeps onto Sitwell’s face, and Natasha feels a chill of unease. She becomes more alert, sensing the shift in the conversation.

“That’s exactly why we’re here, isn’t it?” Sitwell continues, his voice dangerously calm. “To uncover those secrets—the things that were left out of these so-called official reports.”

He tosses the documents onto the table dismissively, his gaze fixed on you.

“So, Lady Y/n, why don’t you tell us what happened during those moments before the final confrontation between you and your father?”

The room falls into tense silence as everyone waits for your response.

Natasha’s attention remains locked on you, her entire being ready to intervene if necessary.

For a brief second, your eyes flicker to hers, and in that instant, Natasha offers a small, subtle nod—a wordless gesture of support, silently reassuring you that she’s with you.

Taking a deep breath, you speak, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions beneath the surface.

“Lord Dreykov tried to use me to kill Natasha.”

The revelation sends a shockwave through the room, gasps and murmurs rising from the council members.

One of them leans forward, their voice urgent and concerned. “He threatened you?”

“In a way,” you admit, your voice quiet but firm. “He controlled me, just like Rumlow controlled the other soldiers.” 

There was a palpable shift in the room.

The realization of what you’ve endured begins to sink in, and for a moment, the air is thick with the gravity of your admission.

But before the silence can stretch too long, Sitwell seizes the opportunity to regain control of the conversation.

“And we’re supposed to believe that you somehow broke free from his control on your own?” Sitwell’s eyes narrow, his tone sharp as he probes deeper. “Can you even explain the process he used to bring you under his control in the first place?”

At his question, Natasha notices a flicker of something—unease, confusion—flash across your face, and for the first time during the meeting, she sees a crack in your composed exterior.

You hesitate, and then, with a strained voice,  you admit, “I can’t remember.” 

Sitwell scoffs in disbelief. He leans forward, his voice dripping with skepticism.

“You can’t—or you won’t?” 

You straighten in your seat, a flare of defiance in your eyes.

“I would never want to harm Natasha or anyone in her family intentionally. That’s the truth.” 

Sitwell leans back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him as he regards you with cold calculation. His next question is calculated and sharp, aimed to undermine and cast doubt on everything you’ve said.

“How can we be sure you’re even telling the truth?” 

The room falls into a tense, oppressive silence, every eye now locked on you. The weight of Sitwell’s words lingers in the air, thick with suspicion and judgment. 

Natasha, already at her breaking point from watching Sitwell chip away at your integrity, feels the urge to intervene and finally put an end to this interrogation. She’s ready to speak when your voice cuts through the silence.

“The serum.”

The room seems to freeze for a moment, and Sitwell blinks, momentarily thrown by your response.

“What?”

Natasha swings her head toward you, her brows knitting together in confusion and concern.

Your suggestion is reckless, dangerous even, and she can hardly believe you would propose such a thing. 

But there it is—that familiar look of determination she knows so well, etched across your face. It’s the same expression you wear when you’re willing to risk everything for what you believe in.

“Have me take the serum,” you repeat, your voice unwavering and resolute. “Then you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

a/n: thank you for reading! and sorry for the long break in between chapters, I didn’t mean for it to be a whole month since an update on this series, but hopefully it won’t be like this for next time.

If you asked to be tagged and I missed it, please let me know again.

Taglist : @midastouch013, @2silverchain, @dvrkhcld, @observeowl, @x-drowned-x, @fireandblood-3, @natsxwife, @leequifey, @blacklightsposts, @srt-sah, @scar-letwidow, @likefirenrain, @autorasexy, @natsbiggestfan1, @lex13cm, @iheartjohansson, @tofu9162, @nothanksbye07, @unexpected-character, @natashasilverfox, @acciowriting, @qtreesfanstuff, @mrsrushman, @inarayofmoonlight, @viosblog112, @inarayofmoonlight

[imaginespazzi]

Part 4: Warning Bells

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

I don't think I can do this again (do you remember it too?)

(In which a self-admittedly all over the place writer takes you on a bit of a rollercoaster)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, Angst, Pining (the usuals)

Words: 6.1K

TW: Swearing, Mentions of Divorce

A/N: Hi lovelies :) Guess who made a deadline again? I'm as shocked as y'all are but I do wanna just warn y'all that August is gonna be really busy for me so as much as I'm gonna try to stick to schedule, there's a pretty good chance I won't. I really appreciate y'alls feedback with live-reacts/long reviews and it's truly the motivating factor behind my writing so pretty please keep sending them. I did edit (as usual) but please let me know the most likely existent typos anyway. As always, let me know what you liked, disliked and what you wanna see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

March 2033 

Here’s what Azzi has learned about motherhood: having kids means that there will come many times in your life, when you will look around you and wonder how the hell did I get here. It’s that thought that’s currently plaguing her as she finishes hanging up the WELCOME HOME banner on the living room wall in her ex-girlfriend’s new apartment. And when she’s talking about kids, she’s not talking about her five year old who’s currently sticking purple hearts on every surface she can find. No, she’s talking about her 6’5 teammate who she’d once “adopted” as a joke in college, but who’s basically become her surrogate child ever since they’d ended up on the same WNBA team. 

It had started as a casual conversation when Jana, as she often did, had shown up for an impromptu lunch. The topic of Paige was hard to avoid considering it was Stephie’s favorite subject, heightened by the fact that Paige was coming back soon and Stephie was far too excited to finally have her Miss Buecks back. Jana was more than happy to indulge the little girl in conversation about what Paige had been like at UConn. And if Azzi had lost herself in those memories for a moment, transported back in time to a world that had once been blooming with promise before wilting in a darkness she’d created herself, well, she’d done an excellent job not letting it show on her face. 

The real issue had started when Jana had casually let slip her idea of surprising Paige with a little welcome party. And as Stephie had started reciting all the different things they could do -because of course me and Mama will help you Aunty J, Azzi had glared at Jana, only to receive an innocent smile in return that told her everything she needed to know. She’d been set up. 

That’s how, instead of spending her Saturday curled up on her comfortable couch with a book in her hands, Azzi is here instead and in true fashion, she’s the only one actually getting anything done. Jana, who had just left about twenty minutes ago to pick Paige up, had invited some of the other girls on the team to come help out yet, something about more hands on deck. Those supposed helpful hands had spent the last hour blowing up and popping balloons and getting nothing else done.

“I can’t believe y’all have me decorating for the woman who cost me my first national championship,” Joyce laments, “I still have nightmares from that game.”

“You gotta let that hurt go Aunty Joy,” Stephie says impishly, mimicking what Jana would normally say whenever the infamous 2025 South Carolina vs UConn national championship got brought up. 

“Don’t sass me Miss Stephanie,” Joyce sticks out her tongue at the little girl, throwing a purple balloon at Stephie’s head, “hasn’t your Mama taught you that we don’t mock people’s pain.”

“Ignore her Steph,” Tessa says, bumping her former Gamecock teammate as she shares a devilish grin with Azzi’s daughter, “she’s just upset she only won one. Some of us have two.”

Joyce guffaws, throwing another balloon, this time aimed at Tessa, “dude we’re supposed to be on the same team. What would Coach Staley say to you teaming with UConn people of all things to bully me?”

“She’d thank me for making sure you didn’t get a big head,” Tessa snipes back. 

Whatever response Joyce has to that quip is cut short by the doorbell ringing and Azzi feels her heartbeat quicken as Stephie lets out a squeal, dropping everything to go answer it. Things had been different since the facetime call almost two weeks ago. They’d accidentally on purpose settled into a routine where Stephie would call Paige at exactly 7 p.m. and Paige would answer on the first ring, promising to stay on the phone till the little girl fell asleep. And it would’ve been fine if that’s all it was. But then Paige started staying on the phone till after Stephie fell asleep and suddenly it was like they were back to their teenage selves, talking about everything and nothing, trying to learn every page of each other’s story all over again. 

Azzi had missed so much about Paige in the last couple of years but there was nothing she’d missed more than just talking to her best friend. She’d missed the way Paige would tell a story, going off on a million tangents in between. She’d missed the way her eyes would light up when she got to a particularly exciting part of the story, specks of gold shimmering in the blue like sunlight hitting the ocean. She’d missed the way Paige’s hands would be flying animatedly all over the place, even when she was whispering. She’d missed the way the blonde would pause halfway through to observe if Azzi was still listening, making sure all of the attention was still on her. And she’d missed the way that when it was Azzi’s turn to speak, Paige would hang onto every word like it was gospel, intently listening like she’d never forgive herself if she couldn’t recite everything Azzi had just said from memory. She’d missed the way Paige would let her emotions freely flicker across her face, because whatever happened to Azzi, Paige felt it too. 

She’d missed and missed, convinced the pain would be the end of her, until she’d tricked her mind into forgetting. And now Azzi’s beginning to realize that remembering it all again, might just be the thing that kills her. 

“Nevermind,” Stephie walks back to the room, sulking slightly, “it’s just Aunty Liyah.”

“Oh thanks Stephie babe. That makes me feel so wonderful,” Aaliyah says, walking in behind Stephie with an offended expression on her face, “and here I thought bringing cupcakes would make me popular.”

“Tell me those are store-bought Chavez. I ain’t trusting them if you made them yourselves,” Joyce says, side-eyeing the cupcakes. 

“Trust me I would never waste my precious time baking for y’all ungrateful ass-”

“Aaliyah,” Azzi shoots her younger teammate a sharp look.

“-ungrateful people,” Aaliyah corrects sheepishly, “cupcakes because y’all clearly don’t appreciate me.”

“I pre-ciate you Aunty Liyah,” Stephie says innocently, trying to get a better look at the aforementioned cupcakes, “you got the pu-ple ones right? They have to be pu-ple for Miss Buecks.”

Aaliyah bends down to Stephie’s level to show her the box of sweet treats “the perfect purple cupcakes for your Miss Buecks. How come you never wanna do nice things like this for us Stephie?”

“Because Miss Buecks is special,” Stephie retorts matter-of-factly.

“Oh so we’re not special?” Tessa asks, raising an eyebrow at Stephie.

“‘Course you are but Miss Buecks is special-er.”

And while her teammates all pretend to dramatically gasp at that, shaking their heads at Stephie, Azzi feels like someone’s squeezing her heart, twisting and twisting but never fully breaking it. She wonders if that might hurt less.

It’s another 10 minutes later when the doorbell rings again and Azzi watches her daughter’s face break into an incandescent grin, filled with hope, as she rushes to open the door because it has to be Paige this time. Azzi follows after her, trying to keep her breathing under control as anticipation clings to her nerves. Azzi’s gotten so spectacularly good at lying to herself that she tells herself this next one with ease: there’s not a single part of her that’s eager to see Paige again. 

“SURPRISE,” Stephie screams, flinging the front door open with as much strength as she can muster. She doesn’t give Paige a chance to react before she’s throwing herself against the blonde’s legs, hugging her thighs. 

It takes a second for Paige to register what’s happening, but when she does, it’s Azzi she’s looking at. Everything seems to move in slow motion as they stare at each other, the reality of the moment suddenly settling in. Paige is here. In Oakland. They’re going to be teammates; they’re going to see each other almost every day. Just like they used to. Except nothing is like it used to be and as that bitter truth comes up like bile in Azzi’s throat, she has to force herself to look away. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie calls out, tugging at the hem of Paige’s white shirt to get her attention, “do you like my surprise?”

Paige tears her eyes away from Azzi, leaning down to pick Stephie up before peppering her faces with kisses and making the younger girl squeal in delight, “best surprise ever.”

And Azzi really, really, can’t watch this. Not when it makes her want to walk over and cocoon herself in with the two of them, makes her want to pretend that she’s living in another life, one where she hadn’t thrown away the chance of a happily ever after with the girl she’d fallen in love with at fourteen, 

“Oh yeah Stephie, your surprise. Take all the credit. Not like the rest of us did anything,” Joyce rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, before pulling Paige into a one-armed hug, “welcome to the Bay Area Bueckers.”

Tessa and Aaliyah are next, both sharing warm hugs with their new teammate. Once they’ve had their turn, all eyes seem to turn to Azzi expectantly and the brunette blanches under their gaze. Other than Jana, who suddenly seems pretty heavily interested in the doorframe, the rest of her teammates don’t know about her past with Paige. So it’s only natural they’d expect her to greet Paige with all the cordiality of an old friend. 

“Y’all good?” Joyce asks slowly, looking between the two of them, “do you want me to introduce y’all or?”

“Shut up,” Azzi murmurs before drawing in a deep breath and stepping towards Paige. She tries not to fixate on the way Paige’s jaw flexes when the blonde swallows, tries not to think about all the patterns she’d once carved against that little patch of skin because she knew it drove Paige insane. The thing is Azzi can’t even really remember the last time they hugged beyond a for-the-cameras one at a game. But as she wraps her arms around Paige, the older woman’s breath tickling against her ear as she grips Azzi’s waist, it doesn’t feel that much different from how it used to be. Paige’s arms are still safe and strong and Azzi still wants to melt into them. But what’s different is that Stephie’s in between them now, tiny hands securely fastened around both of their necks. And Azzi almost, almost gives into the feeling of belonging as she whispers two simple words that mean just a little too much.

“Welcome home.”

***

Seven pairs of eyes watch as the movers move box after box after box into Paige’s apartment, until there’s more cardboard than floor visible. The three non-UConn girlies are wide-eyed as they watch the pile grow endlessly. Meanwhile Jana is laughing while Azzi tries to hide a smile behind her hands as the realization that she’d have to unpack all of her stuff hits Paige in waves, and her expression grows more and more somber. Once the movers are finally done, it’s Stephie, whose hand is still firmly clasped in Paige’s, who breaks the silence. 

“You have a lot of things Miss Buecks,” the little girl crinkles her nose, as she points out the obvious, “do you really need all of this stuff.”

“Of course I do Stephie,” Paige says indignantly and Azzi scoffs, earning her a withering glare from the blond. 

“Aight well it was nice to meet you-” Joyce starts, slowly backing away from the mess until Jana blocks her way. 

“Oh no you don’t. I told y’all we were all gonna help her move in. Call it team bonding,” the Egyptian says, her voice vaguely threatening. 

“Most of the team isn’t even here,” Aaliyah points out cautiously. 

“That’s not the point,” Jana rebukes, “alright team listen up. Here’s how this is going to go-”

“Maybe Paige should take charge. It is her apartment,” Tessa says slowly. 

“If we put Paige in charge she’ll tell us all to go home and procrastinate doing anything until after the season,” Azzi says, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. 

Paige pouts, “hey! I’m not that bad.”

“Oh you absolutely are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“O-kay,” Jana claps, breaking apart the bickering, “it’s good to see the two of you are apparently younger than Stephie,” she holds up a hands a both Paige and Azzi start to splutter in their defense, “now as I was saying before being rudely interrupted. We’re gonna split this up. Joyce and I are gonna do the living room. Aaliyah and Tessa, y’all are gonna fix the guest room. Which leaves,” Jana smiles, and it’s only because Azzi knows her so well that she can read the menacing sparkle behind it, “Paige and Azzi to tackle the master bedroom.”

They both open their mouths to protest but are quick to get cut off by an excited Stephie, “I’mma help Mama and Miss Buecks!”

“Of course you are, why would you ever help anybody else? Clearly you don’t love us anymore. Not since your precious Miss Buecks got here,” Joyce says dramatically and while Paige smirks and the rest of the girls pretend to act mock offended, Azzi uses the distraction to sidle up to Jana. 

“What the fuck are you playing at El-Alfy,” she hisses under hear breath.

Jana shrugs innocently, “the master bedroom is the hardest because Paige has so many fucking clothes so I’m letting y’all old heads do it. Some of us are below 30 ya know.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Azzi snaps. 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about Fudd,” Jana says airily as she starts to unpack a box, leaving Azzi muttering curses under her breath. 

“Hey-”

Azzi spins around at the soft voice, only to find herself crashing against a solid body. It’s instinct, the way Paige’s hands immediately reach out to steady her and it’s instinct, the way Azzi’s hands grab at the lapels of the blond’s shirt. Goosebumps trails up her skin as Paige's breath, hot and heavy, fans across her face. They’re too close; way too close and yet the idea of stepping away feels like a sin. Azzi gulps as her thumb accidentally brushes Paige’s collarbone and the other woman shivers under her touch. She thinks she could probably get drunk off the feeling of knowing that she can still affect Paige like that. 

“You uh-” Paige swallows, fingers squeezing involuntarily against Azzi’s hip, “you don’t have to listen to Jana. I can- I can figure it out myself.”

“N-no,” Azzi stutters and she wonders if Paige feels a high from the way she still affects Azzi too, “there’s um- you have- uh- you have a lot of stuff. I can-,” she sucks in a deep breath, “I’ll help.”

“You sure?” there’s a vulnerable edge to Paige’s tone and any resolve Azzi could ever have melts immediately. 

“I want to help,” she says softly, letting a small smile slip onto her lips. 

The smile she gets in return is bright and sparkling, just like Paige herself and Azzi’s heart lurches, pleased to be the one receiving it, pleased to be the one who’d elicited it, “Good, cause I really wanted your help.”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to ignore the warning bells blazing in her head at the fact that they’re still holding each other, “why’d you pretend you didn’t?”

“I just wanted to hear you say it first,” Paige says, biting at her bottom lip. It leaves a light mark and Azzi finds herself wanting to soothe it over with her own tongue.

She thinks it might have been easier if it was just a little harder to fall back into Paige. It shouldn’t be so simple to fall back into late night conversations, so simple to fall back into easy teasing, so simple to fall back into feeling at peace in Paige’s arms. But it is. 

“Mama, Miss Buecks,” it’s Stephie who breaks their bubble but instead of jumping away from each other like they should, they step apart only enough to let the little girl into the space between them, so she can lace her hands through both of theirs, “are you ready?”

“Before you go Paige,” Tessa calls out, holding up a clear bag of corner guards and edge protectors, “what are we doing with these?”

Paige shuffles her feet nervously, “you um- you put them on the edge of like tables and stuff.”

“Bro but they’re for people who have children?” Joyce says, giving Paige a weird look, “you have a kid we don’t know about?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to Stephie for a brief second and Azzi freezes, a warm realization tickling up her spine. Butterflies erupt in her stomach, their wings fluttering to the beat of what’s mine could have been ours. 

“Of course not. I’m just super clumsy so precautions and all that,” the blond explains, shooting Jana a glare when the taller woman barely masks a giggle, “quit procrastinating by asking all these questions and get to work.”

“Has anyone ever told you the importance of first impressions? Because I’m telling you Bueckers, using your teammates as unpaid labor the first time you meet them is not it,” Aaliyah gives Paige a pointed look. 

“This wasn’t even my idea in the first place,” Paige defends. 

“True,” Tessa nods with a sickly sweet smile, “but you’re gonna pay for the pizza anyways.”

“I’m not pay-”

“PIZZA,” Stephie squeals, “Miss Buecks you’re gonna get us Pizza?”

“Yeah Miss Buecks,” Azzi smickers, crossing her arms as Paige’s stubborn retort dies on her lips, “you gonna get us pizza?”

Paige glares at her before she’s swinging Stephie up onto her lap again. And she really needs to stop doing things like that because it’s not remotely good for Azzi’s mental health to watch the way Stephie seems to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, “of course I am Steph, what do you want?”

The two of them are lost in their own world discussing pizza toppings as Paige starts walking over to the master bedroom, until suddenly they're both turning around, looking at Azzi with identical expressions. And the brunette feels her heart tap out this could be my everything against her ribcage. 

“You coming Azzi?”

“Mama, are you coming?”

I’d go anywhere with the two of you, Azzi thinks as she nods her head, a light skip in her step as she moves to catch up with the two of them. 

“Of course I’m coming.”

***

Less than 10 minutes into trying to unpack, Azzi realizes that she’s the only one trying to unpack anything when she looks up from where she’s been folding t-shirts -trying and failing at not breathing in their familiar scent- to find Stephie decked in a colorful cardigan that goes all the way down to her toes, her feet clad in a pair of PB4’s that must be three times the size of her own shoes. A pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses hide almost her entire face as she strikes pose after pose and Paige diligently takes pictures of her. 

“YES Stephie,” the blond indulges, “work it girl. There you go babe, hold that pose for me. You’re a natural in front of the camera.”

Stephie giggles and Azzi feels her heart constrict. Her favorite sound in the whole world has never sounded more like a signal for danger. 

“Ahem ahem,” she coughs, narrowing her eyes at the two people in front of her, “doesn’t look like y’all are unpacking to me.”

“Mama Miss Buecks has so many pretty clothes,” Stephie gushes, completely ignoring what her mother just said. 

“They’d look even prettier folded in her closet,” Azzi says pointedly. 

Stephie pouts, “you don’t think I look pretty?”

“You look really pretty in my clothes Stephie,” Paige cuts in, tapping the little girl on the nose before she turns her gaze towards Azzi, “just like your Mama used to.”

The silk material shirt slips out of Azzi’s hand as Paige’s words drizzle around her, like the rain after a drought. It takes every little bit of strength she can muster to force herself to ignore Paige’s words and pick up another shirt to fold even if she can’t stop the rouge tint that colors her face. There’s this part of her that’s been dormant for years but every little interaction with Paige threatens to awaken it and Azzi’s scared that if she lets that happen, she’ll never be able to put it to sleep again. 

“Just- just focus on unpacking,” Azzi mutters darkly. 

She spends the next hour or so, keeping her eyes downcast, her complete focus on the task at hand. Because if she looks up, if she lets herself see the way Stephie and Paige are folding clothes together while giggling about something, if she lets herself see the way Stephie climbs onto Paige’s back so the woman can give her a piggyback to the closet to deposit the folded clothes, she thinks she could fall in love with this moment, capture it behind her eyelids and let it live there forever. But this moment doesn’t belong to Azzi. Because Paige doesn’t belong to Azzi. Not anymore. 

Azzi’s taken away from her thoughts when she feels a tiny hand wrapping around her neck from behind, Stephie’s warm body pressing against her back and just like that, all the tension in her muscles seem to dissipate. 

“What’s up sweetheart,” she asks, turning her head to press her lips against her daughter’s temple. 

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says sweetly, “just wanted to give you a hug.”

“Sure you’re not just trying to get out of helping Miss Buecks unpack?” Azzi asks slyly, pulling Stephie from behind her, so the little girl’s lying on her lap instead. She can feel Paige’s eyes focused on the two of them and even without looking, she thinks she knows what she’d find in them if she did. 

“Of course not Mama,” Stephie grins and then squeals as Azzi begins to tickle her. 

“I think you are,” Azzi sings-songs as she continues to poke at her daughter’s stomach, reveling in the way it makes the child laugh. 

“N-no Mama stop, stop,” Stephie manages to wrench herself out from Azzi’s grip, darting to hide behind Paige’s legs, “Miss Buecks save me.”

“There’s no saving you now Stephie-bear,” Azzi roars dramatically as she picks herself off the floor, smirking at her daughter as she wriggles her fingers menacingly. 

“You know what the best way to stop someone from tickling you is Stephie?” Paige says slowly, sending the little girl a conspiratorial wink.

“Don’t you dare-” 

“You tickle them back,” Paige yells and Stephie eyes widen with excitement, “did you know your Mama’s extremely ticklish?”

“Paige no,” Azzi starts moving back, hands held in surrender. 

“You started it.”

“Yeah Mama, you started it.”

“Paige. Stephie. Ple-” Azzi cuts herself off with squeal as two sets of hands start mercilessly prodding at her ribcage. She can’t get away, not when Paige has her securely wrapped from the back and Stephie’s pressed against her front, both of them laughing maniacally. They’re a mess of limbs that’s becoming harder and harder to tell apart as the three of them topple onto Paige’s bed. And Azzi thinks maybe she doesn’t want to escape it at all. She thinks she’d like to freeze them in this moment instead. Forever. 

“Pizza’s here,” someone yells from the living room and it’s Stephie who stops first, immediately jumping off the bed at the mention of food, leaving Paige and Azzi alone. On Paige’s bed. Barely an inch of distance between them as they try to catch their breath. It’s Azzi who sits up first, smoothening the wrinkles on her shirt. And just as she’s about to stand up fully, she feels a hand circling around her wrist. 

“It’s gonna be weird being alone tonight,” Paige confesses softly and Azzi feels her breath hitch.

“Didn’t you live alone in Dallas? At least after the divorce?” she tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice at the last word, a bitterness she knows she has absolutely no right to feel. 

Paige shrugs, her shoulders brushing against Azzi’s, “I did but I knew Dallas. I don’t know this place.”

“What exactly are you asking me?” Azzi asks even though she knows. 

“I’m not asking you anything. I don’t know if I have that right anymore” Paige says softly, letting go of Azzi’s wrist as she starts to walk towards the living room, turning her head back slightly once she gets to the door, “I’m just telling you I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

***

Damn Paige Bueckers and her vulnerable eyes and her earnest tone because Azzi would, really, really like to be enjoying her slice of pizza right now. Instead everything tastes like ashes as Paige’s unsaid plea rings in her head. There are so many reasons why Azzi absolutely shouldn’t give in, why she should grab Stephie, get into her car, drive home and never look back. This involuntary dance the two of them are starting is far too familiar to what they’d done when they were teenagers and the vivid memories of the day the music stopped and they’re feet stopped moving still haunt Azzi every time she lets herself think of it for a little too long. And she shouldn’t push herself into this fire again, not when there’s Stephie to think about, but there’s a tiny little problem. She thinks she might be addicted to burning in Paige’s flames. 

So when the pizza’s done and the house is more or less in order, and her teammates are ready to leave, looking expectantly at Azzi, she finds herself leaping into lava, “um- I think Stephie and I are gonna stay for a little bit longer.”

“We are?” Stephie asks, a huge smile stretching the length of her face as she looks up at her mother. 

“Yeah. Um- Paige’s bedroom still um- still needs some work,” Azzi tries to justify her decision, ignoring the heat of the blond’s eyes that seem to be perpetually stuck staring at her. 

Joyce raises a perplexed eyebrow, “it looked done to me.”

Paige clears her throat, “there’s definitely uh- a couple more things that need to be handled.”

“It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime. I could stay and help-” Jana begins, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

“No,” Paige says, a little louder than necessary, “I mean you’ve already done so much for me today Jana,” she manages a smirk, “let Azzi pull her weight a little bit too ya know.”

Janna narrows her eyes but doesn’t push it. It’s oddly domestic, standing side by side with Paige bidding goodbye to their teammates, Stephie in between them happily waving at the people that are leaving. The warning bells get louder and louder; Azzi continues to do nothing to stop them. 

“Mama, how long are we staying?” Stephie asks innocently. 

“We um-” Azzi chews at her lip, finally giving into the temptation to look at Paige, “we’re gonna stay with Miss Buecks tonight so she doesn’t feel alone.”

The shrill scream that escapes Stephie’s mouth could probably break glass as she turns herself around to grab at Paige’s waist, “Miss Buecks I’m gonna stay with you! We’re gonna have a sleep-over.”

Paige laughs, kneeling down so she’s face to face with the little girl, “yeah we are.”

“Are you scared to sleep alone too Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks cautiously, cupping Paige’s face with tiny hands. 

“Just a little bit,” Paige admits, leaning into Stephie’s touch. 

“Me too,” Stephie whispers shyly, “that’s why I sneak into Mama's bed and she gives me lots and lots and lots of cuddles. Mama’s cuddles are the best,” she turns to Azzi, “Mama will you give Miss Buecks cuddles tonight too?”

“I uh-” Azzi swallows, taken aback by the question, “I thought you didn’t like sharing Mama’s cuddles?”

“I don’t,” Stephie agrees, “but I’d be okay sharing them with Miss Buecks.”

***

Azzi had planned -a loose term because really she hadn’t planned on any of this- for her and Stephie to take the guest room. Paige had been ready to give up her own room on the grounds of politeness. And Stephie was insistent that she needed to sleep in between both Mama and Miss Buecks tonight because it’s a sleepover we all have to stay together. Obviously out of the three of them, only one of them was going their way and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who that would be.  That’s how they’d ended up here, dragging chairs and pillows and blankets into the middle of the living room to create a makeshift fort. 

Azzi’s putting on the finishing touches, stringing purple fairy lights Paige had produced out of nowhere, when Stephie emerges from Paige’s bedroom where she’d gone looking for something to wear in lieu of pajamas. 

“Mama look what I found,” Stephie beams, proudly pointing at the black t-shirt she’s found that covers her whole body, “it’s you and Miss Buecks when you were littler.”

It’s their SLAM cover t-shirt and Azzi feels tears prickling at her waterline as she’s met with the picture of a younger version of the two of them. Back when they’d been so hopeful and carefree, ready to take on the world as long as they could do it together. Back when they’d been 2 in a million.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” Azzi whispers, unable to stop herself from running her fingers across the version of who they used to be. She wonders what those girls would think of them now; those girls who’d laid and bed and pinky promised forever. She thinks they’d probably be appalled at the fact that Paige and Azzi had spent eight years barely speaking. She thinks maybe they’d hate her for what she’d done. She thinks maybe she hates herself a little bit for what she’s done to them. 

Paige is leaning against the wall, her voice quiet when she speaks, “I couldn’t let it go.”

And they both know she’s not talking about the shirt. 

“Can we watch a movie?” Stephie asks, diving into the fort and peering up at the two adults. 

Paige recovers first, “yeah- yeah of course Steph,” she looks at Azzi, “do you- do you want something else to sleep in?”

“I’m good,” Azzi says, trying to inconspicuously brush away a rebellious tear. The shirt she’s wearing feels itchy against her skin but she doesn’t think she could handle wearing something of Paige’s. She scooches into the fort, leaning back against one of the pillows and Stephie’s quick to curl into her and Azzi absentmindedly rubs her hands down her daughter’s back. Paige switches on the TV, letting Stephie dictate a movie choice before letting herself into the fort, laying down on Stephie’s other side. 

“Miss Buecks come cuddle,” Stephie demands from where her head is laying on Azzi’s chest. When Paige hesitates, the younger girl takes it upon herself to pull Paige’s arms over her, making the older woman lie on her side so she can drape her hands over Stephie's stomach, accidentally brushing against Azzi’s ribcage. Stephie lets out a satisfied sigh, lying back down against Azzi, crossing her arms so she can hold Paige’s hand with one and latch onto her mother with the other. 

“Perfect.”

And it is. The sound of Stephie’s chatter slowly fading away mixed with Paige’s quiet breathing is the perfect lullaby and Azzi finds herself drifting off into the best sleep she’s had in years. 

***

Sunlight peeks in through the window and Azzi groans at the interruption. Her whole body feels a little stiff, not used to sleeping on the floor like this. A quick glance at her phone tells her it’s 7 a.m. and Azzi’s just about to let herself fall back asleep when her eyes land on the two sleeping figures next to her. Stephie’s face is buried in Paige’s neck, one arm slung over her waist. Paige, mouth slightly ajar as she sleeps, has both hands fastened on the younger, holding her tightly against her chest like she’d fight the world if someone tried to steal her from her grip. They look happy, content, at peace. And Azzi can’t breathe. 

The warning bells in her head create a cacophonous commotion that she can no longer escape. It hits her like whiplash that she can’t do this. She doesn’t know what had gotten into her last night, why she’d agreed to this, to any of this. But she can’t do this. 

“Stephie,” Azzi whispers urgently, trying to pull her daughter out of Paige’s grasp, “Stephie wake up.”

“Az?” Paige asks groggily, stirring in her sleep, “what’s going on?”

“We need to go home,” Azzi says and she can’t bear to look at Paige. 

“What?” Paige is far more awake now as she glances at her phone, “it’s 7 am Azzi. What’s the rush?"

Azzi ignores her, still trying to wake Stephie up who groans, “Mama too early.”

“Steph-”

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is firm as she wraps her hand around Azzi’s wrist, slipping Stephie off of her, “what is going on.”

Azzi grits her teeth, “nothing’s going on. We just need to go home.”

“Azzi-”

“We shouldn’t have stayed last night Paige,” Azzi bursts out and Paige freezes. 

“Come out of the fort Azzi,” the blond says, her voice eerily calm as she stands up. Azzi follows after her, heart beating rapidly against her chest as she tries to keep the tears at bay. 

“We need to go home,” the brunette repeats, struggling to breathe, “this was a mistake,” Paige flinches and Azzi feels a knife turn in her own hurt, “we can’t do this.”

“Do what Azzi?” Paige asks exasperatedly, still trying to keep her voice low for Stephie’s sake. 

“This,” Azzi all but shrieks, throwing her hands up, “it’s too much, too quick and Stephie- Stephie’s getting attached and I can’t- I can’t let that happen.”

“Why not?” Paige argues stubbornly. 

“Because these last two weeks she couldn’t fall asleep without you on the phone. Because you’re all she talks about sometimes. Because she’s gonna want you forever,” Azzi’s voice breaks, “and she can’t have you forever.”

“Az-”

“And you’re getting attached too. I see the way you look at her and it’s amazing but it’s not- it’s not sustainable Paige. For either of you. Because you’re gonna find someone soon,” the words taste sour on Azzi’s tongue, “and you’re not gonna have time for her and missing you is going to kill her and the guilt of that is going to hurt you. I’m trying to pro-”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige’s voice is hard now, eyes gleaming with fire, “you’re basing all of this on a hypothetical that might not even come true. You’re not protecting anybody. You’re projecting.”

Azzi reels back, “I am not projecting.”

“Yes you are,” Paige hisses, “you’re not scared of Stephie or me getting too attached. You’re scared of yourself getting too attached.”

“Mama? Miss Buecks,” Stephie’s tired eyes look warily between the two of them, “what’s going on?”

Azzi plasters a smile on her face as she picks up her little girl, trying to pretend that the truth in Paige’s words haven’t just made her feel hollow, “we’re going home Stephie.”

“I don’t wanna go home,” Stephie fights against Azzi’s grip, looking helplessly at Paige, “Miss Buecks I wanna stay. Can I please stay?”

“You have to listen to your Mama sweetheart” Paige says softly, heartbreak written over her face as she moves to press a kiss against Stephie’s knuckles, “but I’ll see you soon okay. I promise.”

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whimpers and Azzi has never hated herself more as she rushes out of Paige’s new house, willing herself to not look back. She buckles Stephie in the back, pretending she doesn’t see the way Paige is watching them leave from the porch, like she’d do anything to stop it. And then she drives away. 

It isn’t until she’s safely in the confines over her own room, that Azzi finally lets the tears fall. And she consoles herself with the fact that it’s okay to crack her daughter's heart, to crack Paige’s heart, to crack her own heart, if that’s the only way she can stop their hearts from breaking altogether.