#you can do all of this in a way that is still respectful of other artists work btw

[sharlsworld]

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆ nonsense - 𝐋𝐍𝟒 𖤓

（ 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗑 𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗋𝖼 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ）

（ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 ）𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝖻𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗌， 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗋𝖼 𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌，𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝖽

✫ i started this last summer and literally just finished so i had to go back and change lando and kikas username also just pretend like it’s mother’s day if you’re from the UK 😭

🝮

yn

liked by pierregasly and 1,134,875 others

yn gangs all here

charles_leclerc Are you still mad at me bug?

charles_leclerc I didn’t mean to push lando off the boat but it was a silly coincidence right after he slapped you

⤷ lando you make me sound bad i just slapped her butt

⤷ charles_leclerc Don’t test me Lando.

⤷ lando sorry 😔

francolapinto hot (in the respectful kinda way)

⤷ lando i will k word you

⤷ alex_albon ur gonna kiss him?

⤷ francolapinto yes kith me lando!!!! 💋 i’ll go put on my chapstick real quick

⤷ maxverstappen ally!

⤷ yn i knew you were gay for my brother

⤷ maxverstappen1 ???

⤷ charles_leclerc no???

⤷ yn it’s ok guys we all know lestappen is real

kikagomes body tea 😍😍🥵

alexandrasaintmleux Hey pretty girl 😍

⤷ yn hey cutie pie 🥰

♥︎ by alexandrasaintmleux

estiebestie i know the pain she goes through with having 3 over protective older brothers 😭

mclaren Our favorite 🧡

lovely_leclerc the things i would do to see charles push lando off his yacht 😭

scuderiaferrari Have a good break queen, you deserve it 😉

⤷ arthur_leclerc She literally just walks around with alex and eats???

⤷ scuderiaferrari And she does it well

landolovesyn omg the picture of leo & alex 🥹

🝮

yn

liked by carmenmmundt and 2,699,714 others

yn pictures i sent to the family gc this week

lando why did you make alex look aesthetic but not me?

⤷ yn baby i tried you looked clapped in every picture i took

joris__trouche Giving your brothers wrinkles and grey hairs in their 20s

⤷ yn it’s okay though cause it’s me 💖

♥︎ by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, and leclerc_pascale

lilymhe lando ruining the aesthetic as always

⤷ yn that’s what alex was saying too

⤷ kikagomes she’s right

lorenzotl Surpried lando wasn’t eating in his picture 😂

⤷ lando what he say fuck me for??

⤷ arthur_leclerc almost every picture y/n posts of you you’re eating something

⤷ lando so you’re saying i’m dumb ugly and fat then?

⤷ charles_leclerc well…

⤷ lando WOWWWWW i’m telling bug you’re bullying me charles

⤷ charles_leclerc nonono!!! i was just kidding! please she’s still mad at me for tripping you the other day

arthur_leclerc 1st picture “we’re talking about all of you except maman and cha” (charlotte not charles she was very clear) 2nd “why do you guys only get me bunnies where’s the diversity”, 3rd “this is gonna be gone in 2 minutes”, 4th “bro finally decided to hit the gym instead of the pantry”

⤷ lando OH SO YOURE CALLING ME DUMB UGLY AND FAT??

⤷ charles_leclerc wellll…….

⤷ lando @yn

⤷ yn quit bullying my boyfriend you fucking loser that’s why people always think your french cause you’re a fucking bitch

⤷ charles_leclerc wow you really know how to make a grown man cry…

⤷ pierregasly Hey what’s wrong with French people?? 💔

⤷ yn nothing i love timothée chalamet

⤷ lando babyyyyyy

⤷ yn jk i hate timothée chalamet

⤷ tchalamet whad i do 💔

⤷ yn jk i love you timothée

⤷ lando babyyyyloveeeeee

⤷ yn jk i HATE you timothée

⤷ tchalamet wow 😔

⤷ yn AGH FUCK LEAVE ME ALONE

🝮

lando

liked by oscarpiastri and 1,126,974 others

lando my babylove I LOVE YOU FOREVER 🤍

charles_leclerc Bro…you look really handsome

⤷ lando i knew you loved me 🥹

⤷ georgerussell63 So I sense bug had a stern talking to with you Charles

yn i fw u heavily 🩷

⤷ lando i’ll take what i can get 🥰

alex_albon i’m gonna telling my kids that this was romeo and juliet

pierregasly 🔥🔥

tchalamet mkay

⤷ lando if i see you in my girls comments or dms i will find out where you live and i will sneak in at 3am and stand over you until you wake up and when you do i will kill you

⤷ danielricciardo “there were no signs”

leclerc_pascale Mes bébés 🥰🥰❤️

⤷ lando ❤️❤️

arthur_leclerc That jawline though 😍😍

⤷ lando you ol’ charmer 🙂‍↕️

carlossainz55 Cute mate 👌����

alexandrasaintmluex Oooh who took this super duper cute and aesthetic picture?? 🥰

⤷ lando the best third wheel ever

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux 😐

maxverstappen1 I just want everyone to know he sent this to the gc to ask if it was cute

⤷ lando you bitch

lorenzotl 😍😍

⤷ lando omg enzo stop, you’re practically a married man 🙂‍↕️

🝮

yn

liked by demitrakalogeras and 1,792,204 others

yn miami you will always be famous 🤍 super proud of my baby lando & my sassy brother

lando i tried my best for you

⤷ yn and you did so well

⤷ lando wow im so easy you just warmed my heart up

kikagomes fitted asf 😍

charles_leclerc Thank you petite étolie 💛

oscarpiastri What about me?

⤷ yn of course i’m proud of you oscariño dafuqqq that griddy after the race?? 👌👌👌👌

alexandrasaintmleux 🩷🩷🩷🩷

landosland the L charm on her necklace for lando i can’t 🥹 they’re endgame i fear

♥︎ by author & lando

mclaren Our boyyy 🧡4️⃣

⤷ yn …get dafuq out my face before i have a b.f

⤷ mclaren A b.f?

⤷ charles_leclerc She’s gonna have a bitch fit!!!

⤷ landossluttywaist she put mclaren in timeout

⤷ scuderiaferrari Best believe she’s gonna be in our garage in Imola 😊😊

♥︎ by author & charles_leclerc

carlossainz55 I can’t believe I had to witness you and Lando do body shots off of each other

⤷ lando you literally bought the shots for us

⤷ charles_leclerc You did what to my sister??

⤷ lando NO NO NO CARLOS WAS ENCOURAGING US PIERRE LITERALLY HAS A VIDEO OF HIM CHEERING FOR US TO DO IT

⤷ charles_leclerc PIERRE WAS THERE?

⤷ pierregasly ALEX INVITED ME AND KIKA DON’T BE MAD AT ME

⤷ charles_leclerc MY OWN GIRLFRIEND WAS THERE?? WHEN WAS THIS?????

⤷ yn our first night in miami

⤷ charles_leclerc When you told me you two were staying in cause you didn’t feel good so lando was taking care of you??

⤷ yn yeah

⤷ charles_leclerc You’re giving me grey hairs kid

🝮

lando

liked by terrycrews and 1,416,873 others

lando back with my favorite person (we were never apart we’re just back home)

kimi.antonelli Thank you for clarifying I was going to ask if she had an identical twin

charles_leclerc Are you guys ever apart? 🙄

⤷ lando no 🥰 i need her for emotional support

mclaren Our favorite couple 😍

⤷ yn don’t piss me off

alexandrasaintmleux Best double date buddies

⤷ yn oh heck yes double dates for life

carlossainz55 “back with my favorite person” i’m confident that haven’t spent a single minute apart since getting on that jet back to Monaco

⤷ arthur_leclerc Can confirm he made her go into the airport bathroom with him

⤷ charles_leclerc And you didn’t stop her??? Who knows what they did in there

⤷ arthur_leclerc 110% sure he literally just went pee they were in there for like 2 minutes

⤷ yn can confirm i just held it for him

⤷ charles_leclerc BUG??? WHAT???? THATS DISGUSTING WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT

⤷ yn it was a joke fawk 😔………..😏

⤷ charles_leclerc I don’t even wanna know if you’re just messing with me or not

⤷ lando she’s not

⤷ charles_leclerc you two are freaks

maxverstappen1 This is why you canceled our paddle date?

⤷ lando soz mate we can have our date today

⤷ maxverstappen1 Can’t wait 👌

⤷ charles_leclerc Can I come

⤷ carlossainz55 Me too

⤷ yn my charlos & lestappen & versainz & charlando & carlando & mando heart 🥹🥹 (why have i never seen a ship name for max and lando)

🝮

yn

liked by sydney_sweeney and 2,709,175 others

yn little bit of this little bit of that

pierregasly When did lando become such a good photographer

⤷ yn i’ve trained him well

alexandrasaintmleux Last picture is so real

⤷ yn me waiting for a happy mother’s day text from lando after breastfeeding him like one 🙄

⤷ charles_leclerc what…

⤷ yn must’ve been the wind

⤷ arthur_leclerc NO OMG WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT I CANNOT UNREAD THAT OMG YOU TWO ARE FREAKS I HATE YOU OMG STOP MY EYES

⤷ yn girl

lando my biggest supporter 🥰

⤷ danielricciardo Acting like you didn’t just traumatize your brother in laws

mclaren What?

⤷ yn must’ve been the wind

yn if aaron taylor johnson likes this comment i’ll give lando the most nastiest messiest toe clenching cum guzzling head of his life

♥︎ by aarontaylorjohnson

⤷ charles_leclerc WHAT?

⤷ lando @aarontaylorjohnson PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE BRO HELP A GUY OUT IK YOU SEE MY DMS BRO

⤷ charles_leclerc I HATE YOU AARON TAYLOR JOHNSON AND I HAGE YOU LANDO NORRIS AGH IM GONNA RUN YOU BOTH OVER

⤷ lando she’s busy bro

⤷ oscarpiastri 27 year old French man found dead after realizing his little baby sister isn’t a little baby anymore

⤷ charles_leclerc I’M NOT FUCKING FRENCH OSCAR!!! LANDO NORRIS I’M COMING FOR YOU

⤷ lando oh someone’s definitely cumming alright

⤷ charles_leclerc YOU SLUT I HATE YOU I CANNOT BELIEVE I WELCOMED YOU INTO MY HOME AND LET YOU EAT WITH ME

⤷ danielricciardo why is bug not helping 😭

⤷ lando she’s busy bro

⤷ francolapinto can i join?

[katsu28]

worth the wait

pairing: lando norris x williams driver!reader

summary: winning the monaco grand prix brings to light some not so hidden feelings between yourself and a certain papaya wearing driver. (7.6k)

warnings: friends to lovers, mutual pining, use of Y/N, sexual insinuations but nothing graphic. the FW46 is not a tractor—also fictional. takes place in the 2024 season.

a/n: started writing this a little after monaco last year, didn't finish it until now 😭 my first major attempt at driver!reader, and also perhaps the longest one shot fic i've ever written?? i can't remember but i hope you all love her as much as i do <3 also sorry to charles for erasing his home win i still love you babe

“That’s P1, Y/N. Repeat, that is P1, congratulations.” 

You can barely hear your race engineer over the beating of your heart in your chest, the roar of blood in your ears as you make your way far past the checkered flag. Looking at your surroundings as you zoom by, you see people waving at you from all around you, people cheering at the top of their lungs, and you wave back. 

“Oh my god…” You say softly, just for yourself to hear. 

You’ve done it. 

You’ve won your first race, won Monaco, and you have no earthly idea how to react. It feels weird, like you know you’ve won but at the same time, it doesn’t feel quite real. 

Like you’re asleep and you’re about to wake up to find it’s all been just a dream. “Holy fucking shit.” 

“Y/N, do you copy? Radio check, please. Can you hear me?” 

Blinking a few times to ground yourself, you manage to hit the radio button on your wheel to respond to your team. “Yeah, I’m here. I’m here, I’m—wow, that’s…thank you, everyone. Couldn’t have done any of this without you guys. I love you all, thank you for everything, really.” 

You can hear cheering on the other end of the channel, gleeful whoops and lots of clapping. They’re all absolutely wild with happiness, as you’re sure you should be too. 

You are happy. You’re so happy you can’t even feel anything except the familiar rumble of your trusty car. 

“Make your way to the grid. We’ll see you soon.” 

It begins to trickle in now, the realization that you’re now a Formula 1 winner, and here at Monaco, no less. 

You break into a face-splitting grin, letting a disbelieving laugh bubble from your mouth, which soon turns into a series of loud whoops you’re glad you’re the only one who can hear. 

It’s just you and your car out here right now, soaking it all in. 

The other two cars are already parked at their respective signs when you finally roll up to the grid after a celebratory cooldown lap, a Red Bull and a McLaren flanking your open spot on the left and right as they wait for you. Their drivers are standing by too, waving around at the fans. You spot Lando’s bright helmet immediately and Max a few feet away. 

You kill the engine as soon as you’re in place, shaky hands gripping the halo to pull yourself out of the cockpit. The roar of the cheering is loud even through your helmet, but the thump of your heart threatening to beat out of your chest seems more deafening. 

You aren’t entirely sure that your knees won’t give out when you step onto the hood. 

Nevertheless, you step out as confident as you can, punching both hands above your head in a sweeping motion, fist pumping the air once, twice, a third time. Each swing brings a louder cheer from the crowd, and you take it all in, clasping your hands as if to say thank you to anyone who’s watching—which is everyone. 

Everyone’s watching you as you take off your helmet and peel off your balaclava. Your fingers fumble with the cord of your earpieces, but you manage to wrench those off too, stuffing everything into the interior of your helmet clumsily. 

You hop down from your car, and immediately you’re swept off your feet. Lando crashes into you so hard you’re surprised he hasn’t knocked you both to the ground. He hugs you tight around the waist, swinging you around, and he’s laughing joyfully, that high pitched, squeaky laugh you’re only used to hearing when he’s extremely excited about something. 

If you hadn’t gotten P1, you would’ve thought he’d gotten it by the way he’s celebrating. 

“You did it!!!” He exclaims. “Oh my god, I knew you could do it!”

You’re both sticky with sweat and still breathing hard from those seventy odd laps, but his embrace feels welcoming. Familiar. It always has. You’ve known each other for a while now, having been rookies in the same season, and you’re close with him off the track too. 

Your helmet falls to the ground with a loud thud as you return Lando’s crushing hug. “Thank you,” You breathe, another disbelieving laugh spilling from you. “Holy fuck, it really happened!”

“You made it happen, Y/N. I’m proud of you. Seriously. You deserve this win and so many more,” He says sincerely. He sets you back down now, hands sliding from your shoulders down to your elbows, holding you almost tenderly. It’s a total opposite from the pure excitement he’d had mere seconds ago. 

Something in his eyes seems to deepen, though you can’t put your finger on exactly what. You can’t bring yourself to look away.

If you weren’t so attuned to Lando’s expressions by now, you wouldn’t have noticed the way his gaze flicked down to your lips for a split second. But you are, and you do notice. 

His lips part slightly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he visibly gulps. 

It feels like you’re the only two people in the world in this moment, not as who the public sees you both as, but as the versions of yourselves you really only get to be with each other. You’ve had the privilege of getting to know exactly who Lando Norris is, away from all the cameras and the media. 

Lando is kind and warm and genuine and would go to war for the people he cares about, but he’s still young. Despite having matured a lot in the past few years, he still hasn’t lost that boyishness he had about him when you first met him just before your rookie season together. He still has that spark that pulled you in from the beginning. 

A chant of your name begins to ripple through the grandstands, and just like that, the moment breaks. You remember that not only are you in front of thousands of people, but on the screens of millions more too. 

You inhale sharply and step away from him to pick up your things. He clears his throat, probably realizing the same thing you just did. 

This isn’t the first time you’ve found yourself in this position with Lando, and maybe it’s the adrenaline high, maybe it’s all the years of dancing around each other and your own feelings, but you can’t say for certain that you would’ve been able to hold yourself back if he’d looked at you that way any longer. Either way, you’re sure of one thing. 

In that moment, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted him to kiss you. 

He backs away before you have time to process any of the information firing its way through your brain, giving a little wave of his gloved hands as if to say ‘This is your moment. Take it in.’

Max is much more contained than Lando in his congratulations, giving you a nice pat on the back and firm handshake with a smile that feels genuine. You still can’t quite wrap your mind around the fact that you’d finished ahead of him for the first time. 

You make a run for your team just behind the barrier next, all but throwing yourself into them to celebrate not just your win, but theirs too. It truly takes a village, and you wouldn't have been able to do much of anything, let alone this, without yours. 

You want to stay with them for much longer than you’re allowed to, but you’re redirected by a few of the track marshals far too soon. 

The walk down the outside of the track is mostly a blur. Fernando clasps a hand over the back of your neck, telling you how proud he is of you and your hard work. His pride reminds you so much of your own father you can only squeeze his arm in a silent thanks. 

Charles and Carlos sandwich you into a congratulations group hug of Ferrari red, Lewis ruffles your hair like an older brother would. Daniel squishes you in such a tight hug that the breath gets squeezed out of your chest. 

You’re vaguely aware of various other people coming to congratulate you, clapping you on the back, jostling you excitedly. Reporters, photographers, track marshals all clamoring for your attention, shaking your hand, cameras hovering in your face. All while you're trying to wave to the fans and listen to the multitude of things being told to you by so many people. 

It’s overwhelming, but in the best possible way. 

Next is Alex, who wraps you up in a hug with such a fierceness that rivals Lando’s when you get to where he is, a beacon of familiarity for you. When people say Formula One teammates can never truly be friends, they’ve never seen you and Alex before. There’s some competition there, obviously, but it’s a healthy kind. You push each other to be better. 

He keeps you company until you need to split off for the cooldown room. Even then, he promises to find you afterwards. 

It feels like everyone is beyond happy for you, and you revel in it. This is the first and last time you’ll ever get to experience that maiden win feeling. 

The air conditioning in the tiny room feels like heaven on your sweaty skin when you finally make it there, and even though there's a chair you know you should be sitting in, the ground looks much more enticing. 

Your sore limbs scream as you lower yourself down to the floor, but it feels nice and cold when you extend your legs out in front of you with a noise that somewhat resembles a strangled groan. 

Max takes a seat in his assigned chair with an amused shake of his head. You expect Lando to do the same, but he makes a beeline in your direction, throwing himself down next to you with a reaction not dissimilar to the one you’ve just had. It takes all you have in you not to smile like a fucking idiot when he holds his hand out for a high five. 

You’re still buzzing as you sip your water while watching a few moments from the race on the screen. One of the clips that rolls is you crossing the finish line, which makes a lump rise up in your throat. You’re able to hear some broadcast commentary as it plays, and it feels surreal.

“And she’s done it!!! Y/N L/N wins the Monaco Grand Prix! First P1 ever for the Williams driver, here at the historic circuit in Monte Carlo, and Williams’ first Monaco title since 2003! That’s gonna have to be a win for the books, I’d say,” He’s saying. He sounds ecstatic. 

You do your best to swallow the lump down, sniffling quietly a few times. 

What you’re not going to do is cry in front of these cameras. You refuse to give the people who ever doubted you any ounce of ammunition against you. 

Lando hastens a look over at you, spots the tiniest crinkle of your brow, and nudges your knee with his water bottle. When you meet his eyes, he mimes taking a deep breath, smiling reassuringly. In through your nose, out through your mouth.

You match the rise and fall of his chest, finding that it helps. He doesn’t even have to say a word. 

“Wow, that was turn 10, wasn’t it? Where you overtook me?” Max asks suddenly, looking over to you for an answer. Your gaze slips back to the screen, where you see your Williams sneaking around his Red Bull at the chicane right after the tunnel, then over to him for a sheepish nod. 

It’s not everyday you can say you’ve gotten past a three time World Champion. 

Max looks almost impressed. “That was a bold move, but I’ve got to hand it to you—it was a pretty solid overtake. In a tricky spot too. Nice one.” 

He’s always been nice to you on the track, and you’ve even spent some time together in the offseason, but any ounce of praise from the Max Verstappen still feels like it’s coming from a legend. Even if you’ve witnessed that legend absolutely smash it at drunk karaoke at Charles’ Christmas party a few years ago. 

Your time in the cooldown room also seems far too short, and before you know it, the podium awaits. 

You manage a peek outside whilst the announcer is welcoming Max to the podium, and you’re absolutely floored. The crowd is a sea of different colors, all different teams gathered to witness your very first time on the top step of the podium. You spot yours front and center chatting excitedly amongst themselves, eagerly awaiting your arrival. 

“Feels different, doesn’t it? Knowing you’re about to climb to that winning step,” Lando asks, pulling his P2 hat down over his damp curls. 

He’s right. You’ve been on the podium before, but anticipating being at the top of it, anticipating finally getting to hear your home country’s national anthem—it’s something different entirely. 

“I feel like I’m about to shit myself,” You answer honestly, not bothering to censor yourself in any way. It’s Lando; he’s heard you say much worse before. 

“I would advise against that, but hey, everyone celebrates in their own way. To each their own and all that.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender, shit-eating grin present on his face. “Just know, I’ll never let you live it down if you do.” 

“That’s rich coming from the guy who nearly peed himself when he got his first podium!” You scoff. 

Lando’s teasing grin morphs into an offended drop of the mouth. “I did not!” 

“You so did, don’t even try to lie about that.” 

“Right, well if I did, and that’s a huge fucking if, it was only because I didn’t have time to hit the toilet before the ceremony.” 

“I’m sure it was.” 

“Say, we should celebrate tonight. I was thinking about going out clubbing later, if you’re up for it?” He offers, effectively changing the subject. His brows raise mischievously a beat later, eyes full of mirth. “Unless…you’re too tired, of course.”  

“Ha, nice try! I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep tonight, so you’re on,” You shoot back, tilting your chin up in challenge. 

“That’s my girl.” Lando’s expression turns warm and fond, and it makes your insides go fuzzy. You know it’s just a phrase. It isn’t even the first time he’s said it, but this one feels different. 

The way he’s looking at you feels different. It feels like he’s staring into your soul with those eyes of his you still haven’t quite figured out yet. Were they green, were they hazel? Truth be told, you’d been wondering about it since what feels like forever. 

Lando steps forward—once, twice, a third time. Three steps and he’s right in front of you, so close you can feel the heat radiating from his body. His hand comes up to run along the length of your arm, thumb rubbing over the sleeve of your race suit. 

There’s no cameras here this time. The people around you aren’t even paying any attention to the two of you. It would be so easy just to let it happen, to just close the gap between you and…kiss him.

Before either of you can make a move, you hear his name echo from outside, followed by even more cheering. Lando opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but no words come out. 

You give him a light shove, pushing down your disappointment in favor of a smile. “Go. You deserve to bask in the glory. Before I steal the show, I mean.” 

Lando looks like he doesn’t want to go, but really, he doesn’t have a choice. There are people waiting for his grand arrival out to the podium, and yours too. Before he leaves, he squeezes your hand once, and then he’s gone. The roar of the crowd grows louder. 

You take a few centering deep breaths to calm yourself. This moment is what you’ve been waiting for your entire career, and you’d be damned if you let anything, let alone your own running thoughts, take away from it all. 

The sunlight nearly blinds you when you round the corner, but you take it in stride, waving at the crowd as you take that rightful top step. You aren’t sure if you could stop smiling even if you tried. That smile only grows as your home anthem fills the air, and you swear it’s never sounded more like music to your ears than it does right here and now. 

It’s all for you.

You inhale deep, soaking in every bit of the moment as much as you can before it ends, and as you exhale just as deep, your shoulders sag with relief. It still feels surreal. 

The final notes of the anthem fade, and then you’re being handed a huge trophy by the literal Prince of Monaco, which is mindblowing in and of itself. You like to think you’re playing it cool, but you’re sure if you watch back anyone’s footage of the moment sometime later, you would probably see how not cool you were being. 

Nonetheless, the trophy is a welcome weight in your hands, and when you look down at it, all you can see in the sleek metal is a promise of things yet to come. The pride you feel is insurmountable—of yourself, of your team, of every little thing that has happened to bring you to this day, bad or good. Everything has led you here. 

You beam bright, hoisting it above your head proudly to the tune of hooting and hollering and whistling. 

It feels…well, the only word you can think of to explain how being up here feels is glorious. Even when you’re suddenly being blasted with champagne from all sides, you feel like you’re on top of the world. You can’t see a thing, but you don’t need to in order to know that you could get used to this. 

You don’t feel like you’re truly back down on the ground again until you make it back to the paddock. Natalie Pinkham from SkySports is waiting for you with a proud smile, waiting patiently as your media officer ushers you towards the group of cameras in the media pen. 

“Natalie, hi!” You greet her with a hug, having become extremely familiar and fond of the reporter in your few years of racing. There’s a reason why she’s a favorite amongst most of the grid. 

“Hi, Y/N! Thanks for taking the time to chat with myself and SkySports, I’m sure you’ve got a thousand things to do before calling it a day and going home. Or going to celebrate, maybe?” 

You bob your head, chuckling lightly. “Celebrating, definitely. Dunno what’s in the cards yet, but one of the many good things about Monaco is that afterwards I can sleep in my own bed for once.” 

“That definitely sounds like a win to me. Speaking of wins, massive congratulations on today! Now I have to ask, did anything feel different about the race or qualifying, or even any of the practices that made you think, ‘this is the weekend, today is my day’?”  

“The car’s felt amazing all weekend. Even though I wasn’t on pole, I still managed to move up in the race, and I think my pace was pretty good from the start today. Y’know, obviously nothing was perfect, there’s always bound to be a few hiccups here and there, a few unexpected things to come about at times when you don’t want them to, but overall?” You explain, letting your shoulders drop in a shrug. 

If you wrack your brain, there really hadn’t been anything that clued you into how this weekend would go. You were always confident in your own skills as a driver, but you’d been doing this long enough to know that most of it boiled down to luck, especially with a track like Monaco. 

“Overall I think things went nice and smooth this weekend. I’m not sure what could’ve made it different from other races, if I’m being completely honest, but I’m very happy with the way everything turned out in the end.” 

“Oh, you’re being modest now, aren’t you? Your first ever win, here of all places. You must be over the moon!” Natalie laughs. You chuckle too. That seems like an understatement. “Tell us a little bit about that. How does it feel to not only have that maiden win finally under your belt, but to also be the first female Formula 1 driver to win here at Monaco?” 

It’s a loaded question, of course. 

How does it feel to have beaten nineteen of the best drivers in the world? How do you feel about the highest point of your racing career so far? How does it feel to be amongst the names of all the greats who’ve driven and won this race in the past? 

You’re really not even sure where to begin, but for some reason, you laugh. Your emotions feel jumbled up right now, so much you can barely cobble together a well thought out answer to the question. 

“Sorry, I don’t—gah, I’m all over the place right now, I’m sorry,” You manage to say, taking a cleansing deep breath in an attempt to center yourself. Good thing she just nods encouragingly, giving you time to recompose. 

You can see Lando doing his own interview off to the side, talking animatedly with the biggest smile gracing his face, and you flash back to that moment on the track just a little while ago. The way he was so happy for you despite missing out on P1 himself by less than two seconds, how hard he’d hugged you as soon as you’d climbed down from your car. 

The way he looked at you right after he did, some foreign emotion lingering in his eyes that you couldn’t shake your thoughts free of. 

It’s as though he senses you looking at him, because he glances over at you, catching your gaze for a moment. He smiles even bigger, if at all possible, before turning back to his own reporter seamlessly. It makes you feel giddier inside by a tenfold, which definitely doesn’t help your focus. 

You manage to tear your attention away from him at last. You hope nobody’s noticed you looking at each other. “Okay. Alright, I’m good. Sorry again. I…I think for any driver, winning at Monaco is the dream, with all the history behind the track and—and the stories you hear. Um, it’s definitely always been a dream of mine, ever since I got into karting as a kid, so actually being able to make that dream come true is absolutely unreal to me.” 

You will yourself not to let your voice waver, on live television of all places. You kind of want to cry again (in the best possible way), but you steel yourself, keeping your head held high. This is your time. 

“This win is—above all, it’s extra special, especially since it’s my first win ever and because I’m the first female driver to win. It’s…truly, it’s such an honor. And to be racing among so many other talented drivers this season too, winning is certainly a high point. I think the rest of the season is looking up for Williams. Feels like this is only the start. I don’t really know what else to say other than that.” 

“You’re part of Monaco history now, congratulations again, Y/N. One more question and then I’ll let you get back to your celebrations,” Natalie replies, looking genuinely thrilled for you. That’s something you’ve always admired about her, the way she seems to really care about the people she’s interviewing, instead of rushing through things like you were just something to check off a list. You nod happily for her to continue. “What do you have to say to all those girls watching at home right now, watching you pave the way for future drivers, wanting to race in Formula 1 one day?” 

“I’d say exactly what my dad said to me before every one of my karting races. You’re strong, you’re determined, and you can do anything you put your mind to. Just work hard and keep the focus, but have fun too.” 

“Truly lovely advice from Monaco’s newest Grand Prix winner, thank you so much, Y/N. And congratulations again on the accomplishment! Very proud.” 

You thank her and give her another quick hug before you’re shown off towards another gaggle of reporters to answer their questions. These feel less daunting than the first, maybe because you now have somewhat of an idea of what to say, but you still need to keep things professional—no matter how much you want to shout from the rooftops. 

Maybe you’ll do that later, after you’ve been released from your media duties. 

-------

The club is so loud you can barely hear yourself think. 

You’ve shaken hands and taken pictures with so many people you begin to lose track of who’s who, though you also suspect that might be because of how many drinks you’ve had so far. But it is a celebration—a celebration for you, so really, who’s counting? 

“This is the best night of my life!” You exclaim, plopping down into the empty seat between Alex and Lando. Lily sits on the other side of her boyfriend, stifling a laugh at the state of you. 

“Having a good time?” She asks, reaching over Alex to pluck some confetti out of your hair. You beam at her brightly, nodding. “Good. You deserve to celebrate!” 

“I love you, Lil,” You sigh, squeezing her hand gratefully. “You’re my favorite person.” 

“Um, hello? I’m sitting right here, you know.” Alex sounds and looks genuinely offended, squinting at you in disbelief. You only smile guiltily. “Oh, that’s mean. You’re a mean drunk, did you know that?” 

Lando giggles loudly into his nearly empty glass, lips working the straw intently to get the last few drops out. 

Alex turns his attention on him, raising a brow. “Easy there, tiger. There’s nothing else in that poor glass.” 

“Whatever, dad,” Lando huffs drunkenly. He plonks the now empty glass onto the table with a pout. 

You let out a cackle at that, keeling over into Alex’s shoulder with the force of your laughter. “Dad! You’re an old man, Dad!” 

“I’m only four years older than you two,” He deadpans, seemingly unamused. 

“I’m getting another drink. Don’t miss me too much,” Lando announces to the general vicinity, clambering to his feet with a dangerous sway to him. 

You pop up from your seat too and he notices, holding out a hand for you to take. When you do, he pulls you in even more, tucking you under his arm so you won’t lose each other in the crowded club. 

Alex watches the two of you weave through people together, leaning towards Lily. “Hundred pounds says they’re going home with each other tonight.” 

She rolls her eyes playfully at her grinning boyfriend, scoffing. “You’re not getting my money that easily, Alex. Make it higher stakes next time.” 

Before you can make it to the bar, you tug at Lando’s hand gently to get his attention and he turns immediately, ducking in close so he can hear you over all the noise. “I need to use the toilet.” 

“Go. I’ll order for you.” He nods, giving you a gentle push towards the restrooms. You stumble a little, but right yourself quick, straightening out on your way. 

The corridor right outside the toilets is fairly quiet, and you slump against the wall to catch your breath. Fatigue is starting to set in at this point, the adrenaline from today fizzling out until you’re left feeling tired. You still haven’t quite come to terms with everything that’s happened today. 

You’re a fucking Grand Prix winner. A Formula 1 winner. 

It’s what you've dreamed of since you were a kid, something you’ve worked so hard and so tirelessly for. You’re still happy, of course, but there’s something else biting at you that rings louder in your subconscious. 

What the hell are you supposed to do now? 

The obvious answer is to do it again, and again, and again, until one day you have what it takes to be World Champion, but you're far away from that ever becoming a reality yet.  

What if this win was just a stroke of good luck? 

It’s a miracle you got past Max when you did, but really, it was the track that helped you keep your position. Monaco is notorious for making it near impossible to overtake the car in front of you. 

Had he been just a few inches over to the other side, you would’ve caught too much kerb, maybe even locked up right before the apex of the next turn. It could’ve ruined your entire race, but you got lucky. 

What if you can’t win any more races? What if this was the peak of your career and you’re destined to go downhill from here? What if you lose your seat? 

Tears slip down your cheeks before you even realize you’re crying, your pesky ability to overthink everything taking its toll once again. You dig the heels of your palms against your eyes, letting out a frustrated groan. 

Now is not the fucking time to be second guessing yourself. 

“There you are!” Lando’s voice echoes from the end of the corridor, and you swear quietly, swiping at your cheeks to rid yourself of tear tracks before he reaches you. “I was starting to think you’d fallen into the—” His teasing remark dies on his lips the moment he lays eyes on you. Immediately, you know he can tell something’s off. “Why are you sad? What happened? Did someone do something?”

You shake your head through his bombardment of questions, squeezing your eyes shut with a heaving sigh. “Nothing happened, Lando. Everything’s fine.” 

“I’m sorry, but that’s a load of crap. You’re sat out here crying when you should be celebrating the biggest moment in your career, and you say everything’s fine, but those aren’t happy tears,” Lando insists. “You can talk to me. You know that. Let me help you with whatever’s wrong.” 

You open your eyes and he’s looking at you like he’s in pain, and suddenly you feel like your chest has cracked wide open. “What if the only reason I won today was because I got lucky?” 

“Don’t say that,” He says, shaking his head firmly. “C’mon, don’t talk like that. You’re being ridiculous, alright?” 

You scoff weakly, crossing your arms over your chest. “I thought you were here to help, not bully me.” 

“This isn’t bullying, this is tough love. I wish someone would’ve had this talk with me after Miami, ‘cause I went through the same headspace you’re going through right now. What if it’s just a one off, what if I can’t live up to the brand new expectations everyone else has for me now that I’ve won a race?” 

“So you know the feeling?” 

“Yeah, I do. But you’ve got to ignore it. Whatever you think you can’t do, push it down. Lock it away and throw out the key.” 

“But what if people are right? What if this is the best I can do?” 

“When has anyone ever been right about you?” Lando asks sharply. You feel a bit taken aback at the bluntness of his question, but you bite your tongue. He’s going somewhere with this, if you just wait. “They said you wouldn’t be able to get a seat on any team, you proved them wrong. They said you’d never make it in this sport, now look at what you’ve managed to do! You’ve won the most coveted race in history, and you’re the first female driver to do it. You’re constantly smashing glass ceilings, every single day, and if anyone ever says otherwise, they don’t know you. Not like your team knows you. Not like I know you.” 

If you think back all these years, even to the very beginning of your career, Lando has always been one of your fiercest supporters, always in your corner rooting for you. Even though you’re rivals on track, off the track he’s been a fantastic friend. You’re lucky to have someone like him. 

And now, as he stands here before you, looking at you with such unwavering support and admiration, you’re whisked back to the last time you were this close to each other, mere hours ago. The only difference is, you didn’t kiss him then, but now…

Your mouth is on Lando’s before your brain even registers the movement, but even then, you can’t bring yourself to pull back. Especially not when his hands come around your waist to steady you both.

You’re kissing him and he’s kissing you back, and it’s everything you’ve imagined it would be like despite it happening outside the bathrooms of a club. 

The weight of what you’re doing dawns on you a split second later. You jerk back, eyes wide as Lando’s mouth drops into a tiny, dazed oh. 

You let go of your grip on the front of his shirt, dropping your hands back down to your sides. You aren’t sure how you can even begin to explain this one. “I’m—fuck, Lan, I’m sorry. I didn’t—” 

Lando smothers your weak excuse of an apology with a searing kiss, only this time you’re the one caught by surprise when his tongue darts out, swiping over yours expertly. 

Fuck, he’s really good at this. 

He pulls away before you can think too much on it, blinking at you slowly. “I think—” He pants, licking his lips, “I think we should leave.” 

“Your place?” 

He nods quickly. “My place.” 

You drop by where you’d left Lily and Alex to let them know you’re leaving without letting them know why you’re leaving, but judging by the not-so-subtle back and forths their eyes do between Lando and yourself, it isn’t exactly a secret. 

The constant buzzing of your phone in your purse in the car taking you back to Lando’s place is most likely Lily wanting all the details as soon as possible. 

It feels as if you can’t keep your hands off each other as you stumble down the quiet corridor after Lando, fingers interlocked as he tugs you towards his apartment. 

Every so often, he stops in his tracks, turning around to capture your lips in a quick kiss before remembering where you’re going and forging ahead again. It seems like forever until you manage to get inside with the door shut behind you. 

You’re nudged up against the back of it by one of Lando’s hands splaying flat over your torso the moment the locks click shut, the other one bracing him next to your head as he leans in, kissing you fervently. It’s messy and rushed and frantic, but you’ve both waited way too long for each other to even give a fuck. 

You thread your fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck, giving a testing tug at the curls. What you’re not expecting is the whine that escapes his mouth against yours, the ever so slight buckle of his knees that follows.

You freeze. 

It seems like he wasn’t expecting it either because he does the same, retreating just enough to gauge your reaction to his slip up.  

“That was cute,” You murmur, lips quirking into a smug smile. 

“Nuh uh. Not another word about it.” 

“I said it was cute!” 

“I don’t want you to think I’m cute right now, I want you to think I’m sexy.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I do think that. Like that thing you always do with your tongue when you’re thinking? Hot.” 

“Yeah?” He hums, mouth lifting into an easy smirk. You roll your eyes at him. It’s so like Lando to be flustered one moment, but able to turn on the charm in a blink. But then he hooks his hands under your thighs and lifts you like you weigh nothing, and suddenly now you’re the flustered one. “You like that?” 

Your breath hitches in your chest, but you manage a nod. 

“Wanna see what else I can do with it?” 

-------

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the terrible pounding in your head. It feels like a hundred little people in your skull, banging little hammers everywhere like they’re making an attempt to escape. You want to lay in this bed and hibernate for the next three days, at least. 

The second thing you notice is that the bed you’re laying in is certainly not yours. Your duvet isn’t dark blue, and you don’t have a shelf full of helmets across the room. 

But you know who does. 

Slowly, you turn your head to the side. You pretty much already know who you’re going to see in the spot next to you, but it can’t hurt to check, right? 

The moment your gaze lands on a head full of dark curls smushed face first into the pillow and tanned skin, your suspicions are confirmed. You’re not wearing much of anything, and if you lift the duvet covering Lando, you’re sure you’ll find him in the same way. 

Everything that happened last night is starting to come back to you. 

Lando stirs right at that moment, a rather loud yawn accompanying the stretch of his long arms above his head as he rolls onto his back. 

“Hey,” You say hesitantly. Quietly. 

Apparently you aren’t quiet enough, because he startles easy, scrambling into an upright position and pulling the covers over his chest like he’s accidentally exposed himself. Once he realizes it’s you, though, he relaxes. 

“Hi,” He breathes, smiling. He seems to connect the dots about what happened at this moment, because he takes in the mess of clothes trailing from his bedroom door, then looks back at you with a furrowed brow. “So, last night…happened.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay. Do you—I mean, should we talk about it?” He lets the blankets pool back down at his waist, rubbing his eyes furiously to rid them of sleep. Your eyes skate over the marks littering his chest and neck, and it makes you think back to last night when your mouth was the one planting them there. 

“I’d kill for some breakfast first.” 

“I’ll make you something.” 

“Uh, no. The last time you cooked for me I had food poisoning for a week. I’ll handle the cooking, thank you very much.” 

Lando makes a face at you, lips screwed up into a pout. “I already said I was sorry, like, a million times! How was I meant to know the cream was expired?” 

“Expiration dates, Lando. That’s what expiration dates are for.” 

“Those are a suggestion.” 

“They’re really not,” You insist, to which Lando merely shrugs. “You’re so weird. D’you mind closing your eyes while I grab my clothes?” 

He snorts, chuckling. “Why? S’nothing I didn’t see last night.” 

“I know, but—whatever. Can you just look away?” 

“Yeah, fine. Just take my shirt though, it’ll be easier to put on.” He slaps a hand over his eyes, gesturing for you to go with the other. 

Inhaling a deep breath, you move quickly, scurrying across the room grabbing what you need before locking yourself in his en suite. 

Your hair is a mess, you’re fairly certain your breath is absolutely rank, and you’re on the verge of freaking out. Last night happened way faster than you were expecting it to, and you don’t regret it one bit, but now in the light of day and a fully sober state of mind, you’re not sure what to do next. 

But then you think about it a little more and quickly come to realize that whatever it is, whatever happens, you’re going through it together. 

You’ll cross that bridge together. 

Lando isn’t in bed anymore when you finally hype yourself up enough to reemerge, though the banging of cupboards coming from the kitchen is a clear indicator of where he’s gone. Always making such a racket, he is. 

As you work with what little food he has in the fridge (which to be honest, really isn’t much), he quietly makes two giant mugs of tea for you both. You decide eggs and toast are the safest bet. 

You’re already well attuned to where things are in this kitchen, so you don’t need much help finding what you need. Still, that doesn’t stop Lando from cozying right up behind you as you reach for something in the spice cupboard, one hand curling around your hip to thumb at the bare skin where your shirt has ridden up. 

It feels natural to accept the kiss he sneaks to the side of your neck where he’d nipped at last night, to lean back into his chest in the fleeting second his nose nuzzles in just below your ear. 

In no time, the two of you are scarfing down the food like you haven’t eaten in days. It isn’t until your plates are nearly empty that you look at each other again. 

“Are we—” 

“Do you think—” 

Both of you stop mid-sentence, giving each other matching sheepish smiles. You gesture for him to go first. 

“Is this—was this just a one off because we were drunk, or did last night mean something more?” He blurts, setting his fork down.

“What d’you want it to be?” You’re testing the waters now, putting out your feelers to see what Lando thinks of the situation. You know what you want, but whether or not he wants the same thing is a total unknown factor.

He blinks for a concerningly long amount of time, clears his throat before responding. “I want it to be whatever you want it to.” 

That doesn’t answer any of your questions. Great. 

“Same,” You decide, struggling to remain neutral. What you want to do is drag him in by the front of his jumper and kiss him again, but you’ll restrain yourself. 

“So…what would that be?” 

“Promise me no matter what, I won’t lose you.” 

“You won't. You could never lose me,” He says softly, reaching across the table to curl his fingers over yours. “Just tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. I know you’re thinking.” 

You gnaw on your lip in contemplation. Well, here goes nothing. 

“We’ve worked basically our entire lives to get where we are today.” 

He bobs his head in agreement. “Sure did.” 

“So it would be selfish of us to let anything get in the way. Distract us from the main priority.” 

“Mmhm.” 

“And you’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” 

Lando offers up a cheeky grin, tilting his head to one side. “Not one bit, no.” 

You roll your eyes at his sass, moving to take your plate to the sink. He intervenes before you can get far, easing the dish out of your hands in favor of intertwining your fingers. 

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I’ll be serious now, I promise,” He insists, nodding sharply. You raise a disbelieving brow. “Look, I’ve had feelings for you since we were nineteen and didn’t know what the hell we were doing outside of racing, and ever since then, I’ve waited for the day I finally got my head out of my arse and did something about it.” 

“Is today that day?” You ask softly, only partially teasing.

“Depends on if you feel the same way,” Lando says softly. “Do you?” 

“Am I a Formula 1 winner now?” 

The smile that stretches across his face grows big enough to make his eyes squint, and he nods enthusiastically. “Fuck yeah, you are.” 

“There’s your answer then.” You drape your arms over his shoulders, fingers linking around the back of his neck loosely. “I love you, Lan.” 

He surges forward right there and then instead of using his words, connecting your lips in a second. 

Yesterday’s kisses felt like zooming towards the checkered flag mere hundredths of a second at the front of the pack, putting everything you have into crossing the line first. Fighting tooth and nail for your points, clawing your way up to the top and digging in your heels so you stay there. 

Frantic, urgent, like you’re running out of time. 

Right now is a total juxtaposition to that rush of adrenaline. 

Right now, Lando kisses you like he has all the time in the world to do it. It’s slow and sweet and more like lazy mornings in bed on an off day. Of sunshine pouring through the curtains as you gradually wake up on your own time. No plans, no training, no work. Just peace. Not something you’re used to, but definitely something you’d love to do more. 

You’re both breathless when you break apart for air. 

Lando’s still smiling hard as he studies you, that dizzyingly gorgeous swirl of the blue and green in his eyes flitting all around your face like he can’t quite believe you’re real and in front of him right now. 

“I love you too,” He says happily, grinning even bigger as the words slip off his tongue. You’re beaming just the same, so big your cheeks are starting to ache a little bit, but you don’t care. 

Finally, after years and years of telling yourself it just wasn’t your time, you’ve got the two things you’ve wanted more than anything. You’ve got your first win, and you’ve got your first love. 

Both have been beyond worth the wait. 

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[hellothisisangle]

I don’t have the stamina to comic all this dialogue so here it is:

[At some point between PLAYING FOR TIME and I WALK THE LINE]

J: Look at you, more bolts and chips and wires than meat. Not sure what the hell you even are at this point. Some kinda strutting identity crisis. Bet if someone shook you hard enough you’d rattle.

V: Yeah, well, you’re just a ghost of a walking hard on that played mediocre guitar. Guess we all got our own tragedies.

J: Ooh, hit a nerve. Change your face, change your junk, but it doesn’t actually change a thing. Another plug in another crack that keeps fracturing. Can’t patch a hollow core, V.

V: This, coming from the poster boy for ‘oh please, someone, pay attention to me’? Hey, Johnny- was it before or after the bombing that you decided terrorism made you a man?

J: Know what your problem is? Don’t ask questions. Just do your job. Get your reward. Say you hate authority, but you fit into the glove tailored for you just as much as everyone else. And like everyone else, ‘ya still can’t help havin’ dreams of respect, fear, adoration, love. Dreams only big enough to stay dreams, not enough for you to do jack shit about it. Aren’t you lucky you got me. Now you can wake the fuck up.

V: Ha! Never believed for a second you cared about the bigger picture. Nah, you’re just the guy who played hero to hear someone chant his name. Spoiler alert, no one’s chanting anymore. You think I should follow your lead? Screaming louder, hitting harder, waving your dick around like it’s a goddam flag?

J: Better’n nothing. Keep telling you we’re really not so different, you and I. But swapping parts like spare tires- I mean come on, don’t get all pissy when I call it what it is.

V: Replacing myself, piece by piece, finding a version of me that can stand existing is not the same, will never be the same, as your bullshit tantrums.

J: Keep tellin’ yourself that.

V: For fucks sake- the yapping, barking orders, flexing those fake muscles- wanna know what you remind me of?

J: Not really-

V: All the other assholes who told me I'd never be good enough unless I was just like them. Why I had to rip myself open just to breathe. You’re not a legend, Johnny. You’re a cautionary tale. A child who never learned there’s more than one way to be strong.

J: Pull that one outta a fortune cookie or just your trauma stash? Pft- A child calling a child a child. The shit I have to put up with.

V: Quiet the fuck down or I’ll do something that’ll decom both of us for a bit. I need some air.

J: Fine. See ya later. But would’ya smoke a stoge while you’re at it?

[At some point after I WALK THE LINE]

J: For a chrome-clad existential nightmare, ‘ya ain’t all bad, kid. Startin’ to remind me of me. Without the impressive cock.

V: And for a dead relic clutching his dick like it’s the only personality trait that survived, you’re almost tolerable. But don’t get clingy, I’m not a collector of antiques.

[therosielord]

If you are skinny and think this doesn’t apply to you, I need you to understand something: you can become fat BECAUSE you are sick.

I was a size small all the way until year 2 of college, when I developed SIBO (a gut infection). It went undiagnosed for 2 years. During those 2 years I gained nearly 50 pounds, even though I was eating LESS than usual, because my digestive system was broken. I’ve gotten treatment and my weight has fluctuated since then, but I’ve never gotten back down to the weight I was before I was sick. I’ve tried, but I refuse to do any form of weight loss that’s going to put my health at risk because I’m still recovering from other illnesses, so my progress has been glacial.

Sometimes illness makes you lose weight. We all know that - and sick people are often complimented on their weight loss as if it’s an accomplishment rather than a symptom of disease. But what no one wants to talk about is that people just as frequently gain weight from illness. Sometimes it fucks up your digestive system or metabolism. Sometimes it makes you so tired or in so much pain that you can no longer exercise. Sometimes the only foods you can physically eat are high calorie ones. And all of this can happen to absolutely anyone at any time. Nobody thinks they’re going to become chronically ill until it happens. I certainly didn’t.

I’m not saying this to scare people, but just to bring awareness to the fact that sometimes gaining weight literally just *happens* to people, out of the blue, through no fault of their own. Even if they regularly exercise and eat well. Anyone can get sick and gain weight and be completely unable to stop it. And when this happens to people it should be treated with the same respect and understanding as when a sick person loses weight.

So yeah, fatphobia and ableism are *absolutely* intrinsically tied.

if fighting fatphobia is not part of your politics i don't trust you.

[omniscient3teabag]

NEED there to be like, a party or something after an alien invasion and like someone brought alcohol to the watchtower and like usually captain marvel doesn't drink because ??? billy's like 10 alcohol tastes like absolute chicken butt to him but Zeus is like " drink drink drink " and the other gods(minus Solomon,, someone has to be the rational one there) join in and go " DRINK DRINK DRINK !!! " like they cheering for the Olympus world cup

and captain is like " eh ok sure " and decides to see how much alcohol he could drink in the span of 2 minutes or less. and so that spirals into almost every member of the Justice League witnessing THE Boy Scout™️—that no one has EVER saw drink a drop of wine—chugging down each glass like it's no tomorrow,,, and it's kinda impressive..

of course. captain stops (only because he didn't want to finish it all,,, plus the alcohol he just drank doesn't even taste like the rum from the 1950s,, so, even if it doesn't taste like chicken butt it still doesn't taste great either) but like hey at least the gods were having a blast!!! (they were a bit bummed captain had to stop though) (solomon felt like he could actually breath again after that)

and the jl??? respect the ever living shit out of him because god fucking damn captain marvel just walked off and continued whatever he was doing afterwards like he didn't just chug down fifty glasses of booze,, (he just doesn't have a liver or kidney to damage nor mind to get drunk off LMAOO)

and then they were like . huh. How much liquor can cap hold??? so they all get a bit curious .. and try to see how many more shots could he take ,,, and then it somehow just spirals into a long, nasty competition, one person just straight up bringing a barrel of rum for captain to try

and marvel?? he finds it kinda funny. the alcohol doesn't really affect him anyways and if he just turns off his taste buds he can pretend it's water most of the time. plus a good past time if there's nothing to do. but he does like giving out his thanks and reviews on the taste of it most times

,, and maybe the utmost eagerness that shows in Captain Marvel's face whenever a member wants him to try a very VERY strong concoction full of alcohol that'd probably kill a horse if a sip was taken by a normal civilian and how sincere he is on the way he pats their heads and gives out actual advice on how to improve it (thank you Solomon) was KINDA nice. just a tad bit nice.

oh who's pretending at this point, the competition at the end of the day just waters down into how many drinks??gifts??? the line blurs to a certain point ,, they could give to marvel and to see how many compliments they could get from marvel. they all know at this point that the drinks can't really affect him anyways. plus plus!!! captain would give the extra rum leftover into a tiny-ish water bottle made of magic and brings it with him everywhere, strapped to his waist like fanny pack. no one questions this. we love you capdad

(most of the gods living rent free in cm's head fucking cheer when one day billy gets gifted booze that could affect the gods)

[povbarnes]

Stay.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: You want Bucky to stay, he never does.

Word Count: +3K

Warnings: Angst, Heavy angst, Smut, Angsty smut, Hurt no comfort, Bucky Barnes is TERRIBLE at feelings, Reader is a little desperate, but so is Bucky, bear with me for this one, No use of Y/N, i think that’s it, lmk if i missed or forgot anything!

A/N: alrighty! first of all, thank you so much for the love on my first fic, it means the world to me. this took way longer than i thought it would but it’s finally done, hopefully i won’t disappoint. pictures are only for the vibes, no description of reader in this one other than that she has hair. hope you like it! :)

P.S. i couldn’t really decide which bucky this was, you can decide for yourself but the closest to me was tfatws!bucky i think.

He won’t stay, you know it. He never stays.

You wait for it every time. You spend all the little time that you have together waiting for it, dreading it, never being able to fully enjoy a single second. You dread the moment that eventually comes every single time, that moment when you feel the instant shame surrounding his entire frame right before he gets out of your bed, gets dressed and leaves you while you watch him with tear-filled eyes.

As time passed, you got better at not crying. At least not in front of him.

You know he hates seeing you cry, more so when it’s him who is making you. Not enough to make him stay, but enough to hurt him too. So you simply try not to. You never want to make him feel bad, even though he holds your delicate heart in his strong hands and crashes it over and over again.

He tries talking to you, you’ll give him that. He tries to make you understand. You can’t. Or rather, you won’t. You don’t want to understand him, you want him, all of him. Not just the parts he thinks is worthy of you, which are very little, but anything and everything that makes him who he is. You want it all. And for the months that you have been sleeping together, he could never accept that.

You shouldn’t let him in. Every time he leaves, you make a promise to yourself. To not let him in, to not let him make you feel more miserable than he already has.

Then, you hear his voice. “Please, doll. Open the door.”

All your resolve crumbles in an instant, and you never succeed.

You open the door, lay your pride in front of him like a red carpet and watch him walk all over it to get to you. You don’t even think there’s any pride left in you to protect anymore. It sickens you.

One last time, you say to yourself, every time.

Your breath catches when you see him, all tired blue eyes and hunched shoulders. It takes everything in you not to throw yourself into his arms and hold him until your limbs melt into one. Instead, you stare at him, and he stares at you.

“I’m sorry,” he says after what feels like a lifetime. The first thing he said to you after not seeing him for a week.

You huff. “For what?”

His lips press together, head hanging low to look at his shoes instead of you.

You put him out of his misery, just as you always do, and take a step back so he could come inside.

He doesn’t lift his head while he steps in.

It goes the same way it always does. He waits a moment, maybe as long as he feels enough that you would feel somewhat respected by him, because he knows you’re upset, and that you know why he’s in your house, and how even if you are upset, you still want him because that’s just the way it goes, something that just is and something you can’t help, and how none of it will change anything for him.

He will still leave you at the end of the night.

After the short pause, he is on you, his lips crashing onto yours filled with the amount of desperation that almost matches yours.

You want to push him away, smack him, scream at him to stop doing this to both of you. You wrap your arms around his neck instead. You’ve missed him so much.

His vibranium arm sneaks around your waist to cage you to him, flesh hand holding your chin, covering your entire lower face. It’s so possessive, and you feel so safe, and you hate yourself.

He lifts you just a bit, starting to move towards your bedroom through the familiar path. His mouth is relentless on yours, not even giving you a time to take a breath, not that you want to.

He doesn’t turn on the lights when he reaches your room, he never really does. He doesn’t like you to see his scars.

You gasp as soon as his mouth travels from yours to your cheek, nuzzling his face to yours, leaving kisses to your eyes, nose, all the way to your neck. When he reaches the soft spot where your neck meets your shoulder and takes a deep breath, a sob you so desperately try to keep in wrecks through you. He tries to look at you when he hears it, but you hug him tighter to keep him there. You don’t want to talk, not when you know it won’t make a goddamn difference, but the words that come out of your mouth are not planned, they claw their way out of your throat in order to be freed. “You make me hate myself.”

He pauses, this time doesn’t let you stop him from looking at you. He sees your damp eyes, and you think he might be sick. You don’t want it to be a relief, but there’s not much you can take from him. So, it is a relief that he looks as guilty and as in pain as he does. Because you are hurting more than him. You must be, with the way your heart feels like it’s torn off by the seams and stitched together by shaky hands for a thousand times.

“Don’t stop,” you murmur when he doesn’t say anything. A tear rolls down your cheek. “Don’t stop.”

When he still doesn’t move, you do instead. With his eyes still on yours, you withdraw one of your hands from the back of his neck, slowly moving it south to his jeans. After a short fumble with the button and the zipper, your hand quickly reaches inside the soft material of his boxers, pressing your palm against his dick. His expression he tried to maintain so hard crumbles in an instant, eyes fluttering shut as his hips jerks forward against your hand.

He curses lowly as you move your hand up and down before freeing him and starting to properly move around him.

His blues find your eyes again, watching you for a second while you slowly move up and down. His breathing gets frantic quickly, and it doesn’t take long for him to grab your wrist to stop you, lifting you with comical ease and laying you down on your bed in mere seconds.

His hands do quick work of your sleep shirt and shorts, vibranium hand going straight to where you ache for him to rub you over your underwear.

Your moan makes his eyes flutter, his jaw ticking as his flesh hand coming to massage your breast.

He keeps the perfect pressure, at the perfect speed, shows you once again how he knows your body better than you do. His eyes never leave yours, and he watches with wide eyes and a slack jaw as your first orgasm hits you hard and fast, his hand never slipping inside the thin material, torturing you.

“Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I need to be inside you.” He doesn’t give you a minute to recover. You can barely blink before your underwear is thrown away somewhere around the room, and he is already moving between your legs.

He is too desperate, too fast. Everything’s going to be over way too soon. And you need more time. This night of all nights, you need more time with him. Your heart clenches in your chest.

He is about to push in when you place your hand on his chest over his shirt. “Wait.”

He freezes. And when he looks at you this time, maybe for the first time, he looks panicked. Disheveled. You don’t know what exactly he is thinking, but you lift your hand to his face to soothe him immediately. You smile at the feeling his stubble leaves inside your hand.

“Can you go slow?” You see relief rushing through him like it’s something solid. His hands that are on either side of your legs move up and down as he looks at you with a softness in his eyes that make tears form behind your eyes.

When he speaks, it’s worse. It’s like the first time, when you weren’t this glass half version of yourself, when he didn’t break you just yet. “You okay?”

You nod, smile faltering but not leaving your face. “Yeah, just…” You don’t know what to say. Just what? Just I can’t stand the thought of you leaving so soon? Just I want you to stay a little longer?

“Just a little sensitive today.”

He smiles then, first time since he walked through your door, flesh hand coming up to cup the side of your face. “My girl’s sensitive.”

You whimper at his words, and his smile grows a little, still soft as silk. “Of course I’ll go slow, sweetheart. I’ll do whatever you want me to.” Except stay.

He does go slow.

He opens up your legs to make room for himself, but doesn’t lay on top of you yet. His hands, one warm and one cold, roam around your body, making you shiver. “How do you want me?”

You pause even though you’re not moving, and he senses it. Edge of his mouth ticks up a little. Your heart clenches in your chest.

He never asked you that before except for the first time you had sex, when you’d met just a couple of days ago.

Most of the time it feels like he knows you better than you know yourself.

You don’t know what to say for a good minute, but he is patient, he’s going slow, he waits for you.

Your mouth opens and closes for once or twice, but no words come out. Eventually, your fingers find his shirt, dragging it up and off. Your hands close around his shoulders, and he tenses when he feels your warmth around the scarred tissue of his left shoulder.

You pull him over your body in response, your legs caging him onto you by wrapping around his torso. You hold him to your neck, your mouth dancing over his ear, a small shudder leaves him as his forearms rest on either side of your head. “Like this,” you whisper. “Close, and slow.”

“Close and slow.”

You nod, and he copies you.

When he pushes in, it’s both heaven and hell.

Heaven because he’s here, he’s so close, as close as he can be. And he feels so good, filling you so well that makes you think he was made for you.

Hell because he’ll leave, he may be close but he’s always so far. He is breathing into your neck, inhaling your scent, grunting with every powerful thrust of his hips, and it feels like he thinks you are made for him as well.

After five or ten or twenty thrusts, you can’t even tell, you are gone again. You try to warn him while also holding onto him impossibly tighter before softly crying out. “Bucky- I’m-“

He nods, because he already knows. He always knows. “Go on baby,” he says without lifting his head, voice muffled. “I got you.”

You come with tears gathering in your eyes, burying your face in his neck and breathing him in.

His hips never lose their rhythm, instead gaining strength and speed. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Squeezin’ me so tight.”

He keeps going until the you come around him once again, the force of it catching you by surprise. You don’t even realize you are chanting his name until he starts caressing your hair and murmuring next to your ear. “I know baby, I know.”

He is losing control, you can tell. He still tries to go slow like you asked but his rhythm falters, his hips speeding up and slowing down like he’s at war with himself. You can tell he is close when he starts grinding into you every other thrust, almost making you climb that high again.

“You feel so good,” he says suddenly, voice higher than before. “Best thing in my goddamn life.”

Faster.

“Baby, my baby.”

You can’t breathe.

Faster.

“I love you, I love you, fuck. My baby.”

Your whole world narrows down to the sound of his voice, hands freezing where they were traveling around his shoulders.

You don’t even breathe when he collapses on top of you, and even though you can’t see anything in the now pitch black room, you can feel him. He’s so warm, his face still hidden in the crook of your neck, heavy breaths mixing with yours. He stays like that for a couple of seconds.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, not knowing what to do, how to react. You are terrified.

You try savoring the feeling of his strong frame enveloping yours, even though you almost choke under his weight.

You are afraid to move. You are afraid the second you move an inch, he will come to himself and realize what just happened. And you so desperately want this to last, for it to be real. But after a minute or two, you can’t stop yourself from slowly bringing your fingers to his hair and starting to play with the damp strands that curls a little around his neck. He lets out a soft breath and you can swear that for a moment, he relaxes into you even more.

It takes a while for him to raise his head from your neck and look at you, his eyes filled with so many emotions that you can’t quite name.

“Please, James.”

That seems to snap him out of whatever trance he was in, because he averts his gaze from yours, shame, again, winning over any other emotion on his face. You watch it happen like it’s a movie you’ve seen a hundred times.

You wince when he pulls out of you, and he steals a glance to make sure you are okay, but that’s it. He is on his feet, putting on his clothes again.

“J- Bucky,” you try one more time, your voice wavering. Pathetic.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he sounds like he’s in a rush. “It was- I-“ He shakes his head, pulls on his pants.

“It was the heat of the moment, I- I got carried away. It wasn’t-“

He might as well struck you.

“It’s okay,” you manage to say, interrupting his rambling. You take the blanket hanging off the bed and cover yourself, feeling too exposed now that he wasn’t in the bed with you. “I know.”

You feel like you are about to throw up.

He pauses for a moment at your words, but doesn’t take it back.

And for the first time ever, you want him to leave. Because now, you are about to lose control. You feel on the verge of some kind of an anger attack, because of him, or yourself, you don’t know. You just want him to get the hell out of your house as soon as possible so you can cry until your body runs out of tears.

“Take care of yourself,” he says when he is dressed seconds later. You almost laugh. He rushes towards your door, lingering there for a second too long that causes your stupid heart to skip a bit and straighten up a little bit.

But then he is gone.

The low sound of the apartment’s door getting shut making you flinch like someone slammed it, and you find yourself where you always were. Crying, with his cum dripping between your legs, trying with every fiber of your being to not feel used.

IloveyouIloveyouMybaby

—

Bucky knows what it means to hate oneself. He’s hated himself for the better part of his life. He knows what it’s like to not be able to live with himself. Which is precisely why he cannot have you. Not in the way you and him both want. You don’t deserve this broken version of him. He did things in his life, terrible things, killed and tortured people, did things he can never forget or forgive himself for. But after meeting you? After leaving you over and over and over again? He didn’t know he could hate himself to the degree he does now.

Each time he leaves you with tears in your eyes, it feels like it’s the worst thing he has ever done.

And he knows it’s not fair, how he keeps coming back. He knows he isn’t letting you breathe, let alone move on. Yet he can’t stop.

Standing outside your apartment now, trying to stop himself from knocking on the door, knowing he will hurt you again, is a unique kind of torture.

A battle he always loses.

Because he needs you. He always needs you.

And he knows it’s selfish, so selfish that it makes his stomach turn, makes him unable to look in the mirror in the morning. But he needs you, and he can’t help it.

He knocks.

He hates himself.

The second his hand meets your door, he knows something’s wrong. He doesn’t know why, but it’s wrong. The sound of his knuckles against your door is wrong, the eerie silence of the building is wrong, and he can’t hear your footsteps coming towards the door. It’s just wrong.

His brows furrow. His heartbeat picks up.

He knocks again.

And again.

And again.

Nothing.

A rational part of him inside his head tries to reassure him, maybe you were out with your friends, maybe you just went to get some fucking milk. But no, he knows. Something’s not right. He can feel it in his bones.

He is panting now, staring at your door, eyes wide, trying to not let panic consume his whole being.

“Doll?” he tries desperately, heart pounding.

The door behind him opens, and it makes him flinch so hard that he needs to take a second to look behind him. An old lady, probably younger than he is, stands behind the threshold, looking at him with squinted eyes. “Are you James Barnes?”

Bucky’s heart drops. He doesn’t want to answer. He doesn’t want to know how she knows who he is or hear what she has to say. His mouth feels like he spent the last three days chewing concrete.

He nods.

“She’s gone.”

No.

“What?”

“She left,” the lady repeats. “She’d say you’d come by. Kindly asked me to let you know.”

Just like that, the earth is swiped away under his feet, his whole world is crumbled, crushed down upon him. Two words, and he feels like he’s dying.

“What- uh…” A humorless chuckle escapes his lips, flesh hand coming up to rest on his forehead for a second. “What do you mean she left?”

The lady looks at him with sympathetic eyes. Bucky wants to cry. “She moved away, it’s a shame. Such a nice girl. Told me to tell you.” When Bucky just stares at her, she gives her a tight smile like she knows. “Sorry, Kid. Have a nice evening.”

Then her door is shut.

He flinches again at the sound of it.

And Bucky is left in the hallway, your door not opening for the first time in seven months.

WELL! wasn’t that something? thinking about doing a second part for this with a more detailed smut section, but i think i’ll just see whether you guys want one or not.👀

comments & reblogs fuel me, love you!

[brain4stew]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write pre-forsaken 007n7 x admin!reader?

Basically when 007n7 was still a hacker and admin!reader was sent by Builderman to capture him! Preferred to be suggestive please? /nf

Have a nice day/night!

007n7 was a menace when he was a hacker, no? 😀 I’m not fully aware, and do not know much when it comes to previous hackers, or hackers today. 💔

But I’ll see what I can do for you, anon!

‼️ WARNING: SUGGESTIVE ‼️

(Note: Characters may be ooc, since I do not know how the characters actually will work/be like!)

That being said, here is your request under the cut! ;

You, an admin, working with other admins, and under Builderman.

You respect and admire each and every admin, and games you see on the Roblox platform.

At times, you manage to get scared by Shedletsky, whenever he is Telamon. He apologises of course, but damn is he FREAKISHLY TALL.

You complain to Brighteyes about her husband just being- well, tall.

Brighteyes scolds him and what does he do? Either he, picks her up with a grin. Or, he shrinks back and goes back to Shedletsky, and not Telamon.

Dusekkar confuses you at times with his speech, but with other admins, you’re all either able to decipher what he’s saying to something simpler, or what he actually means.

One day, you were called to Builderman’s office, as you enter his office however.

You may as well have sh4t your pants right there…

Not only was Builderman there, Doombringer, Shedletsky/Telamon and Roblox himself were there.

Builderman of course, told you why you were there.

“We have gotten reports of a robloxian, who has been involved in hacking creations, that other robloxians have made. He goes by 007n7. We all decided that you should be the one to take care of him.” Builderman says, pausing for a moment, so you can process what he said before continuing, “We must warn you, however. 007n7 is not any ordinary hacker. He could be unpredictable. That is all. We will send you his location on your phone.”

You nod, and ask to leave, to which all of them nod to, as they talk with each other. They’re so serious looking all of a sudden… 007n7 couldn’t be that bad, right…?

When you get to the location 007n7 is, you understand why.

Fire everywhere, robloxians changing avatars, some glitching, and some lagging (even with good ping).

You immediately look around and spot him, you grab your lasoo, and quickly, yet efficiently rope him.

He’s shocked and surprised of course, glancing at you, before stiffening. He’s caught red-handed.

He struggles within your lasoo, as you yank him down. (He was flying… LIKE A DAMN FLY—)

He glances up at you with a glare, but it is obvious he’s scared.

“You’re going to be banned, you know. Honestly a shame.” You say.

“. . .” 007n7 doesn’t respond, as he continues to struggle against your lasoo.

You tighten up the lasoo, making him grumble in annoyance. “There’s no use for your struggles, you know. You’re lucky that Doombringer wasn’t sent here.”

007n7 flinches at the mention of Doombringer. His eyes snapping up at you. You hate to admit, but… He looks rather cute.

You sigh in annoyance, and grasp his chin in your hand. “Of all the frustration you have put every and all robloxians, and even admins on…”

You pause, momentarily thinking of something. 007n7 just, stares up at you in what seems to be fear, and expectance.

“I’ll have my fun with you first, before you get banned.” You state. 007n7’s eyes widen in disbelief, he opens his mouth to speak but, you shush him up.

.

.

(Timeskip.)

.

.

You and 007n7 are well… In your bed. 007n7 passed out, laying on top of you.

You hum in thought. I might get fired if this ever is known to the others…

You glance down at 007n7, noticing he has tears in the corner of his eyes. You move a hand out, and thumb away the tears. 007n7 unconsciously nudges against your hand.

You smile. Perhaps this guy isn’t that bad… But, he will still be banned either way.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

You Have A Wife? (John Walker)

Description: John is keeping his family a secret from the team until she wants to meet them.

Word Count: 1,392

John had managed to keep his wife a secret from the team (besides Bucky) for a good month after they were listed as the New Avengers. Y/N wanted to meet the team and tell him that she was pregnant with their second child. John was very hesitant about it, given how the others were and he never wanted to bring her in harm's way.

Bucky was respectful and kept John’s personal life a secret from the others too. Though the question remaining was why John didn’t live at the tower like the rest of them. Yelena and Ava came up with the theory that he was stuck up and thought he was better than them but that just wasn’t the case. “Baby please!” She pouted on facetime as she brought it up again. John sighed, “I don’t know.” “Why not?” He bit his lip and looked away from the camera, “These are my co-workers, co-workers that aren’t the best people and I like that you’re safe and away from all the bullshit.” He says and looks back at the camera.

“John, You can’t hide me forever. I wanna go to events with you and be there in person to support you and I don’t know maybe we can move into the tower-” “No. We definitely aren’t moving into the tower.” He cuts her off. She rolled her eyes. He could be very difficult sometimes. “They never question you on why you don’t live there?” She asked. “All the time. It’s none of their business.” “John, they are like a family to you and-”  “No, you and Y/S/N are my family.” Her face dropped. “Look, I have to go, see ya tonight. Love you” She hung up, she was pissed at him and he could tell. “Fuck.” He sighed and set his phone aside. 

Bucky was training in the gym when John decided to go talk to him. He was the only one who knew about Y/N and his son, “Hey Buck, you got a second?” John asked as he entered the gym. Bucky stopped what he was doing and turned to John, “What do you need?” John sighed, “It’s Y/N, she wants to come meet the team.” “So introduce her to them.” He said and John shook his head, “I don’t know how I feel about bringing her into all of this.” He said as he sat down. “I’m sure everyone will like her and she won’t be in harm's way. It’ll explain why you don’t live here.” Bucky pointed out. “She also wants to move into the tower.” Bucky thought that wasn’t a terrible idea but he saw the look on John’s face. The last thing John needed was to have Y/N in any danger. “Hey man, I seriously think she’ll be okay and if you move in here, she’ll have all the protection she needs.” Bucky pointed out and that made John’s face soften, maybe he was right.

Y/N had just put Y/S/N down for bed when John got home, she was still mad at him but knew that he had his reasons. “How was your day?” She asked as she walked into the living room. John smiled at the sight of her, she was wearing PJ pants and a black t-shirt that was too big for her. “Better now that I’m here with you.” He walked up to her and pulled her in for a kiss.

“Mmm you are cheesy.” She stated and kissed him back. “Is Y/S/N sleeping?” John asked and she nodded. John woke him up and Y/N put him to sleep,the boy was going on 2 now. “I wanna talk to you about something.” He said as she stepped away from him. “I-I wanna bring you to the tower tomorrow, you and Y/S/N.” Her eyes lit up at his words, a big smile forming on her face. “Really?” She asked and he nodded. She jumped in his arms and kissed him, “Thank you, Thank you.” She said against his lips causing him to laugh.

Y/N was nervous and excited to meet her husband’s team. She was thinking about it all morning after he left. What if they didn’t like her? She was aware that they weren’t a fan of him so what if her being with him makes them hate her? She shook her head trying to rid of those thoughts as she got ready. “Are you ready to meet daddy’s friends?” Y/N asked their son as she buckled him up. “Yay.” Y/N laughed as her son cheered.

The tower was only 10 minutes from their house. She got out and sent a text to John saying that they were there. John came out a few minutes later and Y/S/N ran up to him, “Hi buddy!” He said and picked him up. He was in training clothes and looked so good. Y/N walked up to him and pecked his cheek, “You look good.” She whispered and he blushed. 

John, himself, was nearly shitting his pants as he walked them to the others. This was his world in his arms and next to him, this was a big moment. The others were lounging around when they walked in, Yelena looked up and her face was full of confusion. “Who’s this?” Bucky waved at Y/N. “This is my son and my wife.” Everyone’s jaw dropped besides Bucky. “What?” “You have a wife?” “Someone would marry you?” Was heard through the room. Y/S/N hid his face in John’s neck, “Hi everyone, I’m Y/N.” Ava stood up and went to greet her, “I’m Ava.” Everyone introduced themselves besides Bucky.

“Good to see you.” Bucky smiled. “You knew?” Yelena asked and Bucky nodded. “Who’s this?” Ava asked and Y/S/N pulled away from his dad’s neck. “Y/S/N.” He said quietly and Ava smiled. “Aren’t you just the cutest? You get your looks from your mom?” Y/N smiled and laughed at that. “John has a child!” Alexei announced. “Children.” Y/N said and placed a hand on her stomach. John looked over at her, “What?” She smiled at him, “I’m pregnant.” She said and everyone cheered. “Congratulations!” Bucky said. “We’re having another baby?” John asked in a soft voice, tears in his eyes. “Yes.” She said and took Y/S/N, “Someone’s gonna be a big brother.” Y/S/N giggled.

“So this is why you aren’t living here.” Yelena said and he nodded. “Well I did try to get him to let us move here.” John shook his head. “You should and we take care of baby and have fun.” Alexei said. “Yeah and us girls can maybe get to have girls nights.” Ava suggested. ��And Gossip. I need to know how this happened.” Yelena motioned between John and Y/N. “Of course. See John this would be great.” Y/S/N was trying to get out of John’s arms. John set him down and he went over to Bucky, “Hey little man.” Bucky said and Y/S/N reached for his metal arm.

“Cool.” He said and Bucky laughed, “Isn’t it? I take down bad guys with it.” “I wanna be a hero, like my daddy.” John’s face dropped at that, he was no hero. Y/N pulled him close to her, “Hey.” He looked over at her, “He loves you and he’s always gonna idolize you.” She whispered. “How about John makes us dinner?” Y/N asked the group. “Hey!” She laughed at his response.

“You know I do kind of miss the helmet.” Y/N said to him as they all ate dinner. “You liked the helmet?” Yelena asked and Y/N shook her head. “Oh when he first put it on he looked like the old man from UP but with a beard I gotta say I do like it.” She said and Alexei laughed the loudest. “That’s a good one. I haven’t heard that one before.” “Maybe I can bring it back.” John said, “No!” Everyone responded.

Y/N laughed and looked over at Y/S/N, Bob was talking to him. “I think you bring the good out in him.” Ava said and Y/N smiled. “Yeah?” “Yeah we need you around like all the time.” John rolled his eyes and Y/N hugged his arm. “Like maybe move into the tower.” Yelena said and Y/N looked over at her husband waiting for an answer. “Maybe. I have to think about it.” He told her. It wasn’t a No, she thought as she finished eating.

[liuhsng]

───〃⋆⭒˚.⋆ UNTOUCHABLE MASTERLIST

⤷ nsfw content ahead, minors do not interact.

⤷ seven pureblooded alphas. bound by legacy and power. in a world where instincts rule and bonds can break you, each one has a story—of control, resistance, obsession.

⤷ taglist — open ⤷ warnings — this series contains mature themes, smut ( some ), toxic dynamics, and angst | to be read in order : jungwon, heeseung, sunoo, sunghoon, jake, jay, and ni-ki ⤷ a/n — some parts of this series are still under editing and proofreading, please be patient with updates and revisions. i want to give you the best version of every story <3

✩ˎˊ˗ how to claim an omega ( yjw ! )

⤷ read here

⤷ pairing — jungwon x fem!reader

⤷ summary — yang jungwon has always been the definition of the word “perfect,” almost around him almost praise and kiss the ground he walks on. even when it came to girls, various omegas practically throw themselves at the pureblooded alpha, but the oh-so perfect yang jungwon never pays them any mind because he already has his eyes set on a certain timid omega who has been trying her best to avoid him at all costs. and he won't stop until he gets what wants, in that case? you. or where it only took jungwon three years and three chances to finally get you.

✩ˎˊ˗ bottom of the chain ( lhs ! )

⤷ read here

⤷ pairing — heeseung x fem!reader

⤷ summary — he was unapproachable, everyone knew that he was one of the people on top of the throne and a person to be looked up upon because of the various talents that he possessed, and it was practically a hidden rule that lee heeseung's omega shouldn't be messed with as much as him. but some others still forget their lowly positions and cross the line. his only instinct? remind those bastards of their lowly statuses in the food chain.

✩ˎˊ˗ breaking point ( ksn ! )

⤷ read here

⤷ pairing — sunoo x fem!reader

⤷ summary — being sunghoon’s younger sister by a year, it was clear to everyone that you were off-limits. sunghoon’s overprotectiveness made it impossible for anyone to forget that, especially sunoo, his best friend. the pink haired alpha, who always saw you as nothing more than his best friend’s little sister. he wasn’t looking for an omega or a mate, and that was that. but when things get heated between the both of you, he had no choice but to confront the feelings he always had for his best friend's younger sister that he couldn't deny anymore.

✩ˎˊ˗ when fate calls ( psh ! )

⤷ read here

⤷ pairing — sunghoon x fem!reader

⤷ summary — as the eldest son of a powerful family, park sunghoon has always followed tradition, dedicating himself to his responsibilities. relationships never crossed his mind, his focus was on the life carefully planned for him. but then there was you, someone he had seen countless times yet never truly noticed until now. when realization dawned on him that you were his mate, it unsettled him in ways he couldn’t explain. it unsettled him in ways he couldn’t explain. the unexpeced idea of love terrified him, so he rejected the traditional courting that came with claiming an omega. but as his avoidance hurts you, the high and mighty alpha is forced to confront the truth he’s been running from: some things aren’t meant to be planned.

✩ˎˊ˗ between the shelves ( sjy ! )

⤷ part 1 | part 2 ⤷ pairing — jake x fem!reader

⤷ summary — as the only son of a prestigious family and the student council secretary, sim jaeyun—or as his friends like to call him: jake has always been at the top. admired, respected, and burdened by responsibility. he’s used to handling everything himself, ensuring perfection in all that he does. and then there was you, someone he had always seen but never had the chance to approach, until fate handed him the opportunity. hiding from relentless admirers, he found himself in the library, where, to his surprise, you weren’t just another passing face. jake has always adored the idea of having a mate, but he never rushed fate, until you. before he knows it, meetings no longer hold his full attention, tasks he once insisted on doing himself are left to others, all so he can be near you.

✩ˎˊ˗ no-fly zone ( pjs ! )

⤷ part 1 | part 2 ⤷ pairing — jay x fem!reader

⤷ summary — park jongseong—better known as jay, had everything: wealth, power, and a name that carried undeniable influence. a pureblooded alpha and the only son of a family that dominated the aviation industry, he was sharp enough to take over the business and reckless enough to make the upper-ups lose patience. despite his position as student council treasurer, his reputation preceded him: missed deadlines, flawless grades, and a habit of picking the wrong fights. their solution? a tutor. a glorified babysitter. and, of course, it had to be you. an omega with a spotless record, a name as weighty as his own, and an infuriating presence that had always stood in his way. your families worked together, but you and jay never had. now, forced into each other’s space, the line between rivalry and something far more dangerous begins to blur.

✩ˎˊ˗ always been yours ( nk ! )

⤷ coming soon

⤷ pairing — ni-ki x fem!reader

⤷ summary — nishimura riki has never been good at sharing. not his things, not his time—and definitely not you. his childhood best friend, his first love, the one person he thought would always be by his side, and the one person who left without warning five years ago. now, out of nowhere, you’re back. still familiar, still his, and suddenly surrounded by alphas who don’t know where they stand. ni-ki isn’t the type to say how he feels. but he’s also not the type to sit back and watch someone else try to take what’s his. especially not when everyone already knows who you belong to.

taglist : @hoonbrry @hime98 @chae-darling @moonchus @peatchiedii @creamkwan @nyfwyeonjun @whoe-dis @woonie-muffin @caelumsjy @90sni-ki @leiomorea @junjungsunwoo @in-somnias-world @notcamii @yizhoutv @lovesickth @elairah @graythecoffeebean @skyearby @ikeumina @blckorchidd @littlebambi-isdee @immelissaaa @jakesfurry @dreamy-carat @cristy-101 @m1kkso @h4niyahcar @firstclassjaylee @skyearby @hello0i @koizekomi @deluluscenarios @hooniehon @heelovesmeknot @petalsofink

© 2025 liuhsng — reblogs are highly appreciated and please don’t hesitate to request some fics here if you want me to write anything !

[mintedwitcher]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @jamieroyjamieroy ❤️ thanks for the tag!!! using this as an opportunity to share another snippet of my 'Buck leaves the 118' fic

(since I have a tag list for this fic, I'll leave the WIP Wednesday tags open to anyone who wants to participate!)

=========

“You never told me which house you were transferring to.”

“Oh, the 136,” Buck says. Tommy hums in that way of his, the one that means he’s surprised by something. “What?”

“My buddy, Sal,” Tommy says. “He’s a captain at the 136.”

“Deluca?” Buck asks, and Tommy nods. Buck snorts. “He’s my new captain.”

“Good,” Tommy says. “You two can keep an eye on each other for me.”

“Yeah?” Buck asks. Tommy hums again.

“Sal was a bit of a hothead, back in the day,” Tommy says. “Especially when Bobby joined up. Sal gave him all sorts of crap. Testing the waters, mostly. We’d had six floaters by that point. I think we were all just kind of… on edge. And Bobby was so confident. Sal didn’t like that. Rubbed him the wrong way, I guess. They butted heads a lot. Eventually, Sal took it too far. Bobby kicked him out. We were all kinda shocked by that.”

Buck tries to picture it. He doesn’t need to try too hard. He still remembers his probie year, as vague as the memory is now.

“Anyway, putting his foot down with Sal is what got Hen and Howie on board with Bobby as the captain,” Tommy continues, his hand rubbing soothingly against Buck’s stomach. “We used to go for drinks after shift, sometimes, and we invited Bobby along. I was surprised he actually showed up. But we got to talking about Sal, and what went down. And Bobby told us that Sal wasn’t fired, just suspended, pending transfer.”

“Wow,” Buck says. Tommy hums again, and squeezes Buck tighter for a second.

“Bobby knew Sal was good at his job,” Tommy says. “He just knew that they wouldn’t work well together. So he gave him a shot in a different house, and now look at him.”

“Now I’m nervous,” Buck says, only half joking. Tommy chuckles quietly.

“Don’t be,” he says. “You’re damn good at your job, and you know how to work as part of a team. Sal will respect that.”

“And there’s no way I can get you to give me any intel to get on his good side, is there?” Buck asks. Tommy laughs.

“Nope, sorry,” Tommy says, unapologetically. “You’ll just have to win him over with that good ole Buckley charm.”

“Damn,” Buck mutters, but he’s smiling. Tommy kisses his shoulder.

“So, how are you feeling?” Tommy asks. Buck nods.

“Better,” he says. He grabs Tommy’s hand and twines their fingers together. “Thank you. How is it that you always seem to know just what I need?”

“Oh, it’s entirely selfish,” Tommy says. “I like being the one to give you what you need.”

A long-forgotten heat stirs in Buck’s belly at his words. Buck can’t help but shiver against him.

“You always do,” Buck says. He takes a deep breath, sighing heavily on the exhale.

“Evan…” Tommy starts, hesitant. Buck waits him out. Waits for him to choose his words with consideration, just like always. He feels the tension in Tommy’s body, pressed against his, before he speaks again. “Evan, I need something from you, too.”

“What do you need?” Buck asks, immediately. He tries to fight off the echo of a fight weeks past, grounding himself in the here and now. He squeezes Tommy’s hand. “Tell me. Please.”

==============

tag list:

@littlepaws9 @tyrusshipper12 @loulou-land @dashing-disaster @kinardstits

@samjohnssonvt @magdalyna @sweaters-and-silly @safelycapricious @onceuponatmi

@hubcaphalo @letsdosciencetoit @ladyeyrewrites @cm1031sr @sunsetandevningstar

@marsflower @buckitweride @joyfullyhauntedmiracle @gayjaytodd @agentpeggycartering

@darkjediqueen @avnasace @lostintheuniverseslies @breadread101 @whentheresidentsareevil

@athenap47 @cheesycottagecheese @youreademonroyce @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @dearqueend

@paperyowl

[apiswitchcraft]

hi! thank you for providing more resources on the subject and giving your two cents, everything you say is absolutely correct!

the three examples i listed, red raspberry leaf, st johns wort, and ginger are all things that ive done individual research on or been cautioned against by physicians (i have PCOS and im on hrt and several antidepressants, for example), not ones that i got solely from wikipedia. of course, there was no way for you to know this bc of how i phrased it, so i totally understand

i use that wikipedia SOLELY as a quick reference, but then if i see something on that list i do further research from other sources. i did not cite my sources bc tbh,,, i don't really remember where i looked!

but even then if something isn't on that list, say like echinacea (which can cause GI upset or allergic reactions in sensitive groups, which i am a part of), i still do Actual Research on it before i put it in my body

because another issue for many people can be as simple as incorrect dosage-- i mean, having a single cup of tea with a few slices of ginger is going to be completely different compared to liters of ginger slush right to your blood stream. same with one cup of red raspberry leaf tea (generally well tolerated, you're very right) and having multiple cups a day as a part of a daily routine

this is because herbal medicine isn't treated with the same respect that pharmaceuticals are: we don't get an exact dose in one/a few pills, we are not given a detailed regimen to follow, nor educated about potential interactions with other drugs or remedies. this is perpetuated by the attitude of self-treatment and western bastardization of cultural remedies (leading to unlicensed/untrained practitioners or a "i'm right, the establishment's out to get me" ideas). because there ARE people who use homeopathic medicine correctly and safely, but they often work very hard to acquire their expertise

i want everyone to know that yes, sometimes lavender helps with your headaches and honey lemon tea with your sore throat, but that doesn't mean all of a sudden that your doctor is out to get you and centuries of scientific innovation is suddenly wrong. raw milk is still going to give you crazy diseases, and yes you still need to be cooking your meat before you eat it

like one reblog said: EVERYTHING IS CHEMICALS, SO TREAT THEM WITH THE SAME RESPECT

just a PSA to ALWAYS RESEARCH HERBS/PLANTS BEFORE PUTTING THEM IN YOUR BODY

did you know that st john's wort can induce serotonin syndrome? which is life threatening (and very painful!!) btw

did you know that red raspberry leaf can worsen hormonal imbalances and irregular menstrual cycles?

did you know that ginger (yes!! that ginger!! the one that's in every other tea recipe out there!!) can thin your blood? which can be life threatening for people with certain conditions

and there's so much more this community as a whole should be aware of, especially when considering herbs to consume or apply to the skin

the resource i use most often is just this wikipedia article, although you should do individual research just to double check

i don't make this post to try to induce widespread fear of herbal remedies/a good ol herbal tea now and then, im just saying that not everything natural is good for you, and sometimes modern medicine is right. always consider consulting a physician before self-medicating or trying potentially harmful substances

[firelilyfox]

In your skin

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: After a mission the two of you have to share a room & at first Bucky gets really mad about it but ... he means well.

Words: 2,3k

Warnings: mention of trauma, weapons, sharing a bed, fluff, heart to heart talk, real sad Bucky

Note: english isn't my mother tongue so sorry in advance :)

____________________________________

It got late real fast after the successful mission in Nairobi. 

The African heat gave way to the cool night, making it way more pleasant to find some sleep soon. Part of the Thunderbolts found shelter in a luxury hotel in the middle of the lively city, but there were almost fully booked so the only two rooms left had to be evenly shared. Yelena, Alexei, Bucky and me. 

„I will not let my daughter sleep in a room with another man“, Alexei barked. „No offense Winter Soldier, I have deeply respect for you. But my daughter will be protected from you manly charme by myself.“ His strong russian accent marking the importance of his protectiveness about Yelena. 

„Alexei I’m a grown woman and can protect myself from stupid men“ Yelena says unimpressed. The four of us were standing in the empty hallway, on each side a closed door and fitting keycards in my hands. I look at them and then up at Bucky. He was easily two heads taller than me with a strong disapproval look on his face, but he kept quiet. He was always the quiet one of the group (besides one or two snarky comments from time to time). „You can sleep with him then if you want“, Yelena adds. 

„Don’t be ridiculous. I will not let you out of my sight with this nasty wound. You are my daughter and I will protect-…“ but Alexei couldn’t finish the sentence because Yelena shut his mouth with her own hand. 

„Got it old man. So its the two of us and the two of you then.“ She pointed at me and at Bucky afterwards. I opened my mouth for approval but got interrupted immediately. 

„No fucking way“, Bucky grumbles.  

Okay. Ouch. That was unnecessary and a bit rude. 

Even the farther-daughter duo frowned in confusion. It was true that Bucky and had a …complicated way of acting around each other for the last couple of months. At first I thought we would be good co-workers. He always kept an eye out for me when I started to train with the Thunderbolts because I didn’t knew my way around and had a tendency to stumble into very unfortunate situations. For example that one time in Norway … ugh I rather not think about that. Nonetheless with time passing by he had become more like … a friend I think. Bucky was always there if I needed him - but never too close. Even a little part of me, that I desperately try to suffocate, wants him to be just … closer sometimes. 

„Do I get to tell my opinion in this?“ I ask a bit annoyed by his sudden rudeness. „I have no problem to stay with you in a room.“ He shoots me a deadly look but that doesn’t scare me off. Not the tiniest bit. No clue what his problem his, but I won’t let him push me away like that. If he has something to say, then he can tell me whilst sharing a god damn room. 

„Great! Its settled then. You two get to - ...“ 

„This isn’t an option“, Bucky interrupts Alexei again and this time he almost exploded. His voice had a much deeper and darker ring to it now. But it didn’t made me flinch. It made me mad. 

„Why does everybody interrupts Alexei all the ti-…“ 

„Well I don’t care. Here.“ I handed Yelena and her father one keycard and kept the other one for Bucky and myself. „I’m done with this conversation. Get in here.“ I tell him and opened the door with a soft clicking sound. 

„Have a pleasant night“, Yelena chuckles and disappeared with Alexei in the room across the hallway. Bucky stands still as a stone without any muscle moving. My rage was overflood by hurt. Was it really that awful to share a room with me?  

„I have no idea why its such a problem for you to stay in a room with me. If it’s because I am a woman then I can assure you it’s more than common in this century for a man and a woman to …“ 

„It’s not because of that. I shared a room with a woman before.“ He says and stepped around me into the hotel room. Paying close attention to our arms not touching by accident. 

I closed the door behind me. „Well good for you I guess.“ A little stab of jealousy hit me. „But if it aint that then why -…“ 

„We should get some sleep.“ And just like that there was another sentence that won’t be finished this evening. Great fucking fun. 

We got changed into our nightgowns and by that i mean that Bucky was still wearing his black shirt and boxer. While i got rid of almost every piece of clothing. In my underwear and a simple tanktop I sat down on the bed beside him. His metal arm flexing a few times he looked lost in thoughts. 

„How does it feel?“ I ask before I could stop myself. 

He frowns. „What do you mean?“ 

„I mean do you really feel everything? Like heat when you burn yourself while cooking or the fabric of a blanket?“ No clue why I was bubbling with stupid questions like that out of the blue. Might be the sight of him in boxers that fried my brain a little bit. I’m thankful he isn’t a mindreader. 

A soft smile lays down on his lips. The first since we entered this room. „Yeah. In Wakanda they have some very advanced techniques and great minds who work on stuff like that. I have not the slightest idea how this works.“ He holds his metal hand with the palm up and looks at me. „But it works.“ 

Without any thoughts I lay my hand in his. I expected the metal to be cold and hard. But somehow it felt warm and … real. Like it is more than just a piece of dead materiel. I moved my fingers along the palm and up to his wrist. It was formed exactly like his other arm. Strong and even the muscles were mirrored to the tiniest detail. Something comes over me and out of pure curiosity my other hand finds his real arm to compare the two of them. 

For a moment Bucky stayed completely still. He was not moving at all and I doubt that he was even breathing normal anymore. „Does it feel the same?“ 

He cleared his throat. „No.“ 

„What’s the difference?“ I look up and almost drown in his blue eyes. His face must’ve come closer. Or did I move in his direction? I don’t recall. All I know is that his nose was only inches away from mine, wich means that his lips were… 

„You should get some sleep. Now.“ Bucky rumbles with a husky voice. Within a second he stood up from the bed and moved to the other side of the room. 

There it was. The hurt from before hits me like a truck. 

„You really find me that repulsive?“ 

He opened his mouth. Stopped. Closed it and opened it again. All without saying a single word. Understood. „Will you come back?“ I ask instead. 

He has one hand on the doorknob. „Yes. When you are asleep.“ 

And so I did. I cried myself into a dreamless sleep. Drowning in my own self-pity because the guy I like would rather run away in the middle of the night, than share a bed with me. 

A bright crack tore me out of my slumber and I was wide awake in the matter of seconds. But not because of the thunderstorm outside the window. My fingers were curled around something cold and hard. The silhouette of Bucky was calmly sleeping beside me. My senses knew the feeling of this heavy metal and it wasn’t the arm I felt earlier tonight. 

It was a gun. 

A fucking gun in my hand. 

What? 

„Bucky?“, I whisper. „Bucky wake up!“ My voice pitched high, wich made him wake up instantly. 

„What is it? What happened?“ He asks breathlessly, eyes wide in shock, head snapping from side to side to make out any danger. But the only thing what would fall in that category appeared magically in my hand while I was asleep. 

I hold the gun up and waved it slightly. „Hello? Why do i have your gun in my hand?“ 

„Why are you so certain it’s mine, doll?“ His eyes narrow. I try to pull myself together because I didn’t expect him to call me by his pet name for me. He only used it a couple of times before and only when we were alone. 

„Oh please Bucky! I know your guns by heart. So why is it in this god damn bed?“ I shriek. 

He broke the eye contact and shuffled himself into a sitting position. The thin blanket that we both shared shifted down to his lap. Bucky leaned his back against the headboard and let out a deep sigh. „Just in case.“ 

„I beg you pardon?“ 

„Just in case you need it.“ He still has his eyes closed but I could hear in his voice that he wasn’t telling the whole truth. 

„James Buchanan Barnes you better cut that shitshow and tell me why you put that thing in my hand“, I say as I sit up, not caring that the blanket completely vanished from my body. 

Bucky turned to finally look at me. His expression were serious at first, but then his eyes dart down to my naked legs and at the waistband of my top that slipped up a bit, showing a small gap of my hips and stomach. I could swear to see his throat move as if he had to swallow … hard. And his face transformed from serious to something much more intense. Was it longing or am I now completely loosing my mind? 

„You are the only person I allow to call me like that“, he says with a tight voice. 

„Cut the crap. Now.“ 

Bucky sighs again. „Fuck. Okay fine. The gun is for emergency. In case you have to take me out.“ 

My heart stops beating for a painfully moment. With widened eyes I look at him. He sits there looking so broken, so serious about what he just confessed to me. His sad sad blue eyes studying me, waiting for a response. I know what his reasons are. He has terrible nightmares. Bad ones from his past and even darker ones made from his guilt. 

„The fuck I will.“ With two quick moves I dissemble the gun in its individual parts. Bucky watches me with disbelieve in his eyes. „I refuse to let you think I would ever do that.“ 

„Maybe you will not have a choice when it becomes bad!“ He tries to grab the metal pieces but I throw them away without a second thought. „When the Winter Soldier takes over I can’t guarantee for anything. He could do …“ 

„I don’t give a shit!“ I bark. „You would never hurt me. I know that in my bones.“ 

He lets his hand sink and land on my knee. It needs a lot of self control to not follow it with my eyes. „You’re right. I would never. But he could.“ 

I lean forward, just a little to make my point clear. „I trust you.“ 

„You shouldn’t.“ His voice was nothing more than a whisper. I could feel it brushing over my cheeks. „I’m a threat.“ 

I cock my head to the side. „Is that the reason why you didn’t want to share a room with me? Because you were scared that you might attack me in your sleep?“ 

He nods. And my heart shatters into a million tiny pieces. His hair falls in strains into his face making him look even more exhausted than ever. I've come to thinking about the fact that his mind had to be constantly in stay alert mode. 

„Do you ever let yourself catch a break, Bucky?“ 

At first he stays completely still. Then a deep, tired sigh. And when he finally looks up to answer he da the saddest smile on his face that I’ve ever laid eyes on. „I don’t think so, doll. Can’t remember.“ 

I reach forward to place my palm above his heart. It beats slow but a little uneven - as if my touch had an effect on him too. „You deserve to feel safe for at least one night. You deserve so much more than that.“ I leaned in his direction, let my body sink against his and gave him the chance to slowly get used to so much skin to skin contact. But he didn’t hesitate as I thought he would do. Instead Bucky pulled me so close that I imagined to morph fully into him. Melt together and finally feel complete. 

His metal arm laid wrapped around me and gave me the support I needed. His other hand placed at the back of my head - fingers tangled up into my hair. I feel his body relax beneath me and a little smile appeared on my lips. 

„Nothing I could do would ever made me deserve you, doll.“ His words rushed my system like a big tidal wave and i shook my head up from his chest to look at him. 

„You don’t have to do anything. Bucky you already own my heart. And you truly deserve it.“ 

He smiled softly. I could feel his hand on my head pulling me closer up to him. I obey happily. „I will take good care of it, doll. I promise to be worthy for you.“ 

„I know because you already are.“ 

Bucky kissed me. His lips were touching mine with such softness I almost cried. Hands so tender and carefully holding me while his mouth claiming my whole consciousness. I leaned into him to feel as much of him as I could. He deepened the kiss and I let out a sigh of relief. I swear I could feel him smile against my lips.

I know I will never get tired of this. Ever. 

[drdemonprince]

Hi doc, do you have any tips for a person who’s friends keep trying to convince her she’s queer? I’m cishet, but some of my queer friends keep insisting I must be queer. I started dating a nb transmasc and their comments got more frequent after that, saying how I have to be queer because a straight person can’t date a nb person and still be straight. (I’ve discussed it with my partner, and they are fine with my IDing as het.) I take it as an honour that I have so many great queer friends who feel so comfortable around me. However, it makes me uncomfortable, in part because I honestly would really like to be part of the community. I find the culture of queerness beautiful and attractive and fascinating. I’m ashamed to admit that I even went out with a friend who asked me out. She was everything I’d want in a partner minus gender and we had great chemistry as friends. However, I just couldn’t feel attracted to her in that way, so I called it off after a few dates. We’re still friends, but I deeply regret treating her that way. I think when they make the comments, it stings because they’re telling me who I am and  because I would really like to be part of the community but can’t be. Also, they keep saying that a woman who prefers effeminate men couldn’t be straight, which kind of feels like an incel talking point. I know this is a small potatoes problem to have, and very privileged, and I’m not a victim in this scenario (if anything, I’m the oppressor) or anything, but it’s awkward and any advice would be appreciated. 

I think your friends are being gross on multiple different levels and that you should tell them so! It needn't be a grand political statement, all you have to say is something like "I don't like other people telling me how I feel, thank you," or "My sexuality is up to me to define, I hope you can respect that." and repeating it like a broken record whenever anyone gets to making weird, invasive remarks.

There is a long legacy of queer people stomping all over the sexual boundaries of the women in their lives, and this comes from a misogynistic disregard for women's autonomy that you don't have to be in the oppressor class to possess because it is so, so damn normalized. Bisexual women are told they are really just straight, lesbians are pressured to be bisexual, and straight women are, occasionally, told by their queer friends that they should just quit dating men already if they want to stop being mistreated (as if a person can easily choose to change their sexual orientation). It is disrespectful, it shifts the blame for misogynistic violence back onto the woman simply for deciding to date people she is attracted to, and it creates a broader culture of women not trusting their own feelings when those feelings are at all inconvenient to others.

You deserve to push back on all that! No matter how much your friends think it's all in good fun or acceptable because you are in the cishet majority and they are oppressed. Our personal relationships should not be a symbolic political battleground, and your friends' grievances with compulsory heterosexuality are not fixed by getting to bully and fuck with you. That's just not how friends should be treating one another. And so you get to tell your friends to cut out this shit, that it makes you uncomfortable, that they shouldn't be speaking for either you OR your queer transmasc partner, and that it's weird to act as if effeminate men are not actually men, and are not attractive. If after repeated warnings your friends keep pulling this move, you will have to figure out how you'd like to maintain the boundary yourself. Things like hanging up the phone, stepping away, or refusing to continue the conversation while emphasizing that you feel uncomfortable and disrespected are all good options. Any good friend should be able to put aside their own agendas once they realize they are repeatedly hurting you. If someone is completely unrepentant about it after multiple warnings, then you've learned something important about them.

[tsams-and-co-memes]

Ok

-sighs heavily-

Today was kind of a train wreck, but ngl, I'm not surprised, considering what happened yesterday

Eclipse,, definitely said some things that he shouldn't have. Not to Charlie, who is a litteral child and is still learning. He had every right to be angry and to blow up on her, when you take into account everything that she's done to him (the teeth thing, the baby incident, going into his head without permission (I think? Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong)), but still. There are limits and boundaries, and something that should be off limits to say to a child is that the best thing she did was die. I understand his anger and frustration since this has been building up, but again, he went too far

Charlie, meanwhile,, had no right to suddenly scream at him like she did. It's like she forgot all about the nice things he's done for her (making her last days as a human as comfortable as possible, easing her pain during death, throwing her a birthday party, reuniting her with her dad, etc). He hasn't ALWAYS been mean, he's just under an incredible amount of stress right now. The fate of the world is literally resting on his shoulders, and I don't think she fully comprehends the seriousness and severity of that. I don't expect her to, since. She's only 11, and all, but still

Ruin shouldn't have told her to distract Eclipse, and he shouldn't have blown up at her like he did. He's under an enormous amount of stress and frustration, just like Eclipse is, and trying to sort of indirectly sabotage whatever Eclipse is doing, is just playing dirty. Telling Charlie to distract Eclipse wasn't a good idea either, since Ruin knew how badly Charlie wanted to help, and I'm like 1000% sure that he would've known she'd do it. The only thing he couldn't have known was HOW. Buuuuuuut,, if I'm being totally honest, I don't blame him for exploding at Charlie, either. Again, he's under an enormous amount of stress, and he's desperate to save his Monty, and he's frustrated because nothing seems to be working. Charlie kept offering suggestions, but she essentially kept offering the same idea, even though Ruin explained to her multiple times, in the simplest ways possible, that anything involving her powers wouldn't work. Idk about you, but I think I'd get tired of repeating myself over and over, too

Honestly, considering yesterday, I'm surprised that Eclipse was ok with Roxanne being anywhere near him, but at the same time, she probably just insisted on being there, and he probably didn't care enough to yell at her about it. She.... probably shouldn't be the one to talk to him about today, though. After the bullying yesterday, the best thing I think she could do for him would be to leave him alone and give him space. Solar Flare,, did a good thing by intervening like he did. It's nice that he wants to try talking to Eclipse, and I hope he maintains a middle ground, instead of picking sides, since... if he leans too much into berating Eclipse, that'll just piss off Eclipse even more

TLDR; Everybody sucks and everything is a giant mess. Y’know. Again. Some of it is understandable, but some of it definitely went too far, and they need to learn how to better respect each other. In this extremely crucial time when they should be working together, the worst thing they can do is tear each other down

[twst-aceofhearts]

로열 AU를 요청할 수 있나요? 제이드는 집사이고 리더는 그가 일하는 공주인가요?

글을 정말 좋아합니다. 하지만 번역하는 데 시간이 너무 오래 걸리네요...

🍄 익명

물론 기꺼이 도와드리겠습니다!

번역은 죄송합니다… 제가 너무 게을러서 직접 할 수가 없네요.

[Rough translation || 🍄: Can I request a Royal AU? Jade is the butler and the reader is the princess he works for? I really enjoy your writing. But it takes so long to translate… || Me: Of course, I'd be happy to! I'm sorry about the translation…I'm too lazy to do it myself.]

Silver Service

𝖆/𝖓: I think the cuts are a bit rushed but finals are coming up and I wanted to get stuff done :<

𝖙𝖜: Mild violence (assassination attempt), poisoning

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: jade x royal au!reader

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘: 1208

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe @oya-oya-okay @writingattemptsxx

The royal palace was silent more often than it was loud. Even the servants walked as if on glass, voices hushed beneath vaulted ceilings and chandeliers. You had grown up in that silence. And Jade Leech fit into it like a puzzle piece made for shadows.

They called him a diplomatic gift—your own personal butler, handpicked by the Kingdom of Coraline. But nothing about Jade had ever felt like a gift. He was too elegant, too precise, too observant. He watched everything, said little, and moved with the slow, deliberate grace of a predator in a silk coat.

Every morning, he greeted you with a bow and a softly spoken, “Good morning, Your Highness,” before placing your tea just so on the table beside the balcony doors.

And every morning, you tried not to look too long into the eyes that gleamed mismatched—one gold, one blue.

You weren't supposed to feel this way about him.

But you did.

It started on a morning much like any other. You were walking in the eastern gardens, parasol in hand, with Jade trailing behind at a respectful distance.

"You walk too far behind me," you said without turning.

"Forgive me," came his smooth reply. "Protocol dictates—"

"I’m the Princess. Protocol bends if I say it does."

There was a pause. The crunch of gravel under his shoes grew nearer.

"You’re in a mood today," you added.

Jade only smiled. “You’re always in a mood, Your Highness. It’s what makes you interesting.”

You turned to face him. He had stopped at a proper distance again, but his smile lingered like the scent of roses in the breeze.

"You’re lucky I like you," you said.

His smile shifted—smaller, deeper. “Luck, or intention?”

You said nothing. But your heart fluttered in a way it shouldn't have.

Rain fell against the glass as you sat across from him in your private study, the two of you sharing an unusual moment of quiet over tea. Unusual, because he had chosen to sit across from you. At your request.

“It’s strange,” you said, “how someone can be by your side every day and still feel like a mystery.”

Jade tilted his head, amused. “Would you like to solve me, Your Highness?”

You took a sip of your tea. “Perhaps.”

There was something in the way he watched you now. Not just dutiful. Curious. Unafraid.

"You know everything about me," you murmured.

"I observe everything about you," he corrected. “Knowing… requires permission.”

The words hung in the air, trembling.

The attack came without warning.

It was a quiet brunch with foreign dignitaries. Jade, as always, was at your side, attentive and poised. He handed you your tea himself. He had prepared it. Tested it. Or so he thought.

You took one sip. Just one.

Then the world tilted.

The cup slipped from your fingers and shattered. You heard his voice first—panicked, breaking, not like Jade at all.

"Your Highness!"

He caught you before you hit the ground.

Servants screamed. Guards surged forward. The dignitaries recoiled. But Jade—Jade held you like he’d never let go.

"Poison," he said through gritted teeth. "Bring the physician. Now."

Your eyes fluttered closed. You felt cold.

And then, you felt nothing.

The royal physician worked through the night. The poison—exotic, rare, something from the sea—had ravaged your system. No one knew how it had passed through the usual security measures.

Jade hadn't left your side once.

He remained seated at your bedside, one hand in yours, his eyes hollow with fury and fear.

"She'll wake," the physician had said.

"But will she be the same?" Jade had asked, voice low and cold.

Now, in the silence of your bedchamber, he sat alone with you.

"I failed you," he whispered. "I was meant to protect you. And I—"

His voice caught. Jade Leech, the perfect butler, did not cry. But something in him cracked.

"I can’t lose you," he said softly. "Not when I’ve only just… realized."

He bowed his head and kissed your fingers.

You woke to his hand in yours.

He jolted upright at your weak breath. “Your Highness?”

Your throat was dry. Your body felt like it had drowned and come back. But the only thing you could focus on was the way he looked at you—relieved, exhausted, reverent.

"You’re still here," you croaked.

“Of course,” he said. "Where else would I be?"

Your voice trembled. “You didn’t sleep?”

His smile was thin. “I wouldn't have dared.”

You looked at him for a long time. And then—softly—"I missed you."

He inhaled like you'd wounded him.

“You should not say things like that,” he murmured.

“Why?” you whispered.

“Because I’ll believe them.”

When you could walk again, you summoned Jade to your chambers.

"You still haven't told me who did it," you said.

He stood by the window, pale and elegant, hands clasped behind his back. “We suspect one of the visiting dignitaries. Or… someone close.”

Your heart turned cold.

"Someone in the palace?"

He nodded.

"Then you need to protect yourself, too," you said. "I’m ordering you to."

Jade turned to you slowly, and for once, his calm slipped.

“No,” he said. “My life is yours.”

"Don’t say that," you snapped. "Don’t reduce yourself like that!"

"I am your butler."

"You are not just my butler!" you said, rising to your feet.

Jade’s expression broke. And then—finally—he stepped toward you.

"You’re right," he said quietly. “I am more.”

He stopped just in front of you.

“I am a man who has loved you from the moment you first asked me to walk beside you.”

Your confession came two days later.

"I love you," you said, under moonlight and behind closed doors.

Jade stood frozen for a moment. Then he smiled—a true smile, rare and warm.

"And I love you," he said, voice trembling. "But you are royalty. And I am—"

"You are mine," you said, stepping closer. “My choice. My heart.”

He cupped your cheek, eyes glinting with something more than devotion—hope.

"If we do this," he whispered, "there will be war. There will be scandal."

You nodded. “Then let there be both. But let there also be us.”

He kissed you.

And it was not soft. It was real. Years of restraint poured into a single moment.

The court did not take it well.

Rumors spiraled. Accusations flared. But you stood firm, and so did Jade.

When the investigation concluded, it was discovered that the attempt on your life had been orchestrated by a noble jealous of your favor toward Jade—afraid of what power he might gain at your side.

You had them exiled.

Jade never asked you to defend him. But you did.

And that, more than any vow, told him everything.

Years passed.

They still called him your butler, even after the engagement was announced. But you both knew the truth.

He wasn’t just your servant.

He was your partner. Your protector. Your confidant. Your first dance at every ball. The last person you saw before sleeping. The first you saw at sunrise.

The tea he made every morning now came with a kiss.

And every time he said, “Good morning, Your Highness,” you smiled and whispered,

“Good morning, my love.”

credit to @fae-and-wolf for divider

[saturnsag3]

more of your willmack frat au please please please

Last Laugh- fratboy!will smith x macklin celebrini

summary: will and mack have a petty fight, the boys are on mack’s side (obviously)

wc: 3,083

It had started over something stupid.

Because it was always something stupid with them.

Will had been in the middle of planning for the frat’s upcoming fundraiser—already half stressed, half annoyed that no one else seemed capable of handling logistics—when Macklin had rolled into the living room after grabbing a quick snack, wearing Will’s hoodie and a smug little smile.

“You’re grumpy,” Mack had said, dropping onto the couch beside him like he owned the place. “Grumpier than usual.”

Will hadn’t even looked up from the spreadsheet. “I’m busy.”

Mack huffed. “You’re always busy lately.”

Will’s jaw clenched. “Because if I’m not, this whole house falls apart.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. President, savior of all,” Mack had teased, poking his side. “But I’m here, you know. And you’re ignoring me.”

Will finally looked at him. “I’m not ignoring you. I’m doing my job.”

Mack rolled his eyes. “Your job is being an overachieving control freak. I’m talking about your other job. Boyfriend? Ring a bell?”

That had gotten under Will’s skin more than he wanted to admit.

“Mack, I can’t drop everything just because you’re bored.”

Mack stiffened, smile fading. “Wow. Okay.”

Will winced but didn’t backpedal. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, actually,” Mack said, standing up abruptly, hoodie sleeves dragging over his hands, “I think it is.”

Will sighed. “Macklin, don’t be dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” Mack’s laugh was sharp. “I literally came over to hang out, and you act like I’m some clingy inconvenience.”

“That’s not what I—” Will ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Jesus, Mack, can you not twist every—”

“Twist?” Mack stepped closer, poking his chest now, the bratty smirk gone and replaced with something almost hurt. “Maybe if you actually looked at me instead of your dumb spreadsheet for once, you’d see I’m trying, Will.”

Will’s voice was tight. “And maybe if you respected that I have responsibilities—”

“Oh my God,” Mack cut him off, throwing his hands up. “You’re so obsessed with this stupid frat, you don’t even realize you’re pushing everyone else away.”

Will’s tone snapped. “And you’re so obsessed with being the center of attention, you don’t even realize the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

That landed.

Hard.

Mack went still, expression shuttering in a way that immediately made Will regret it.

“Right,” Mack said quietly. “Guess that clears things up.”

Will opened his mouth. “Mack, I—”

But Mack was already grabbing his bag.

“Don’t worry,” Mack said, smile sharp and fake as glass, “I’ll get out of your way, Mr. President.”

And then he was gone.

And Will had sat there, staring at the door, with the spreadsheet still open in his lap, feeling like maybe he actually had fucked up.

But pride?

Pride had kept him from texting first.

And Macklin’s stubbornness?

Yeah, that was unwavering .

---

Will knew he was in trouble the second he walked into the kitchen and the room went silent.

Dead silent.

Six guys. A bag of half-eaten tortilla chips. A Mario Kart tournament still paused on the TV in the other room. And not a single one of them was looking him in the eye.

Ekky, Toff, Gabe, Leno, Wenny, and Mario—his friends, his brothers, his frat guys—all stared at him like he’d walked in like kicked a puppy.

Will dropped his keys in the bowl by the sink. “Okay,” he said slowly. “What’d I miss?”

Toff crossed his arms. “What’d we miss?”

Will blinked. “Huh?”

Gabe leaned forward from where he was perched on the counter. “You and Macklin. Don’t play dumb.”

Will groaned. “Jesus. Did he text all of you?”

“No,” Wenny said. “He just didn’t show up tonight. Again.”

Leno, sitting on a stool with a Red Bull in one hand and a marker in the other (why?), looked up. “And we noticed.”

“Because we like Macklin,” Ekky added, as if that wasn’t obvious.

Will scowled. “He’s not in the frat.”

Mario raised an eyebrow. “No, but he shows up. He brings snacks. He laughs at our jokes. He remembers Toff’s class schedule and actually asks about it. He knows Wenny’s allergic to peaches. He brought Leno a Squishmallow.”

Leno held it up silently in solidarity.

Will rubbed a hand over his face. “We just had a stupid argument. He got mad, I got mad. It’s not like he’s banned or something.”

“You might as well have banned him,” Gabe muttered. “It’s been four days, Will. Four. And the vibes? Rotten.”

“He’s dramatic,” Will argued weakly.

“Toff cried during Fast & Furious last week and Mack was the one comforting him,” Ekky snapped.

“It was emotional!” Toff said defensively.

“I’m just saying,” Wenny cut in, “you’re the one who messed up.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, like—seriously, dude,” Leno said. “You don’t fight with a guy like Macklin unless you’re ready to grovel. He’s a menace, but he’s our menace.”

“He’s not yours,” Will muttered.

“He’s more ours than yours right now,” Mario shot back. “You know what he said the last time he was here?”

Will braced himself. “What.”

“He said, and I quote: ‘Don’t worry, even if Will dumps me, I’ll still visit you guys. He doesn’t own me.’ Granted he was joking but still—“ 

Ekky slapped the table. “ICONIC!” 

Will stared at them. “You’re all insane.”

“And you’re in denial,” Toff said, pointing at him with a Cheeto. “You’re miserable. We’ve seen you watching his IG story’s on loop for hours.” 

“I—what—I’m not—!”

“Just apologize,” Gabe said. “You’re the leader of this house. Act like it.”

Will gave them all a long look. “So I’m supposed to just say I’m sorry and let him walk all over me?”

Wenny shrugged. “You love it when he walks all over you.”

Everyone nodded solemnly.

Will turned to the one guy he thought might be on his side. “Mario?”

Mario didn’t even blink. “You literally let him wear your letters before you even asked him to be your boyfriend. You’re obsessed with him, man. Own it.”

Will threw his head back in defeat. “God, I hate you all.”

“We love you too, Prez,” Ekky said sweetly. “Now text your boyfriend.”

“And tell him he can come back for game night,” Leno added. “We’ll pretend not to stare.”

Will rolled his eyes but pulled out his phone. “Fine. I’ll text him.”

“Good,” Toff said. “And tell him we saved him a seat. Yours.”

“Shut up,” Will mumbled, typing with a scowl.

---

Will stared at the empty message box for longer than he’d ever admit.

God, he hated this.

He hated admitting when he was wrong.

He hated that Macklin had gotten under his skin so bad that the entire house was siding with him. He hated that the guys were right.

But mostly?

He hated that he’d hurt Mack.

He took a deep breath, finally typing.

Will

i’m sorry, baby.

i mean it.

i was way out of line. i didn’t mean what i said.

i was stressed and being a dick and i took it out on you. that’s not fair. you didn’t deserve that.

i know you were just trying to be there for me, and instead of appreciating you, i pushed you away like an asshole.

you’re not an inconvenience, mack. you’re never an inconvenience.

i’m sorry, baby. i miss you. i miss us. please let me make it up to you.

He stared at it.

It felt soft. 

But Macklin deserved soft.

Maybe Will needed to be soft sometimes, even if it made his chest ache in the worst, most vulnerable way.

He hit send before he could overthink it.

The three little dots popped up almost immediately.

Macklin

took you long enough dummy

i was about to make a dramatic post about how i died of neglect.

Will smiled, relief loosening his shoulders for the first time in days.

Will

i deserved that.

you can post whatever you want, baby just come over? 

please?

i’ll shut up about spreadsheets and frat shit. we can do whatever you want. or nothing. i just want you here.

Mack left him on read for five painfully long minutes.

Then finally:

Macklin

i’ll think about it.

you owe me snacks. and kisses. and a massage. and your hoodie.

maybe also you groveling a little more in person.

i wanna hear you say it to my face.

Will laughed under his breath.

Will

i’ll do all of that.

just come home, pls 

The dots danced again.

Macklin

see u in 10 :P

Will smiled to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket.

The frat guys in the kitchen burst into cheers like he’d just won a championship.

“Finally,” Toff groaned. “Jesus, I was about to text him myself.”

“Bro,” Gabe added, “never fight with your boyfriend when we like him more than you.”

“Shut up,” Will said, but he was smiling now.

Because yeah.

Macklin was gonna make him say it to his face.

---

Will didn’t say it to his face.

In fact, Will barely even had time to unlock the door before Macklin was on him.

Immediately stumbling their way up the stairs to Will’s room. Shoving him back against the door, grabbing his hoodie, kissing him like he was trying to erase every second of the past four days. Will let him. He deserved it. He deserved all of it.

“I hate you,” Mack whispered against his mouth, breathless, lips bruising.

“I know,” Will said, pulling him closer. “Hate me later.”

“Fine.”

The hoodie came off. Clothes followed. The apologies got a little lost somewhere between the desk and the bed.

Because yeah.

Maybe Will was making up for it.

But Mack wasn’t exactly being quiet about it either.

---

Downstairs, the frat living room looked like the site of a funeral.

A very loud, very tragic, very traumatizing funeral.

Toff was face-down on the couch cushion. “When I said I wanted them to make up,” he groaned, “this is not what I meant.”

Ekky threw a pillow at the ceiling. “I take back every word I said. Make them stop.”

“I can’t even play Mario Kart with this in the background,” Gabe complained, flinging his controller down.

Leno had his hoodie pulled over his head like he was trying to block out the world. “Why does Mack moan like that? It’s... it’s so specific.”

Mario was eating popcorn like he was at the movies. “Bro, you’re the one who begged Will to text him.”

“I didn’t ask to be scarred for life,” Wenny hissed. “There’s groveling, and then there’s whatever the hell is happening up there.”

Another thump.

Another moan.

Leno whimpered. “Oh my God, is that the bed frame? I sleep in this house.”

“Maybe we should... I don’t know. Leave?” Ekky offered weakly.

“We live here, Ekky,” Toff mumbled into the cushion. “They should leave.”

Mario threw popcorn at him. “You want to go tell Macklin that?”

Silence.

Then collective groaning.

“I can’t believe I liked that guy,” Gabe muttered.

“Shut up, you still like him,” Toff snapped.

“I do,” Gabe admitted miserably. “But not like this.”

Upstairs, another creak echoed through the house, followed by Will’s voice—loud, smug, and very clear.

“Louder, baby. Let the whole house know you’re mine.”

The living room erupted in screams.

“I’M MOVING OUT,” Wenny wailed, covering his ears.

“THIS IS WORSE THAN FINALS WEEK,” Toff yelled.

“IT’S LIKE THEY’RE TRYING TO KILL US,” Ekky added.

Leno flopped onto the floor dramatically. “Tell my mom I love her.”

Mario was cackling. “This is what you all wanted.”

And somewhere, between the chaos and the collective frat-boy suffering, Will and Mack were definitely having the last laugh.

sages thoughts⋆˙⟡: this frat au is kind of my fav thing to write rn so if anyone has ideas or requests please send! hope u lovelies enjoyed <3 (p.s: masterlist coming soon!)