#BEAUTIFUL CHAPTER IM SO EXCITED FOR WHATS TO COME

[ilikerosesalot]

JAMBOUND CH 26 AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[deus-ex-mona]

if the trope works, it ✨works✨ y’know~

[butchlifeguard]

primrose's ch3 is GOOD btw

[volfoss]

actually i think the horrors of trying to read along with watching is going to kick my ass in the last 3-4 seasons. for context for anyone who hasnt just spent the last hour or two in the mines of trying to make a really bad spreadsheet for this- you have episodes in season 5 that are adapting 2 (over 1000 page) books and doing massive jumps between chapters. As in adapting both chapter 7 and FIFTY ONE of one book kind of jumps. And some of them are taking chapters from THREE BOOKS. im in hell

[syluses]

HEART WANTS WHAT IT WANTS

𓍯𓂃 PART ONE (1) of the stepdad! sylus x reader series

(1) PILOT

𓍯𓂃 CONTENT: stepdad! sylus therefore step/pseudocest, eventual smut, nsfw, dubcon, slowburn, yandere undertones, all characters are 18+ (mc is presently 23; sylus is in early forties), possessive & yandere behaviors, age difference, daddy kink, unreliable narrator, drinking, non-evol au, modern au, lowkey enemies to lovers, lots of (sexual) tension, loss of virginity, emotional breakdowns, some angst, some fluff, a lil bit of everything; tags will be added as story progresses— but know the story is relatively triggering. [art credit: @/chimmyming on twitter/X]

𓍯𓂃 SIDENOTE: the first part of the series :] ima also post this on ao3 as well so if u wanna read it there, u absolutely can <3 reblogs, likes, & comments are all very appreciated u know the deal ✨ hope you’ll enjoy this lil series my friends 🫰 also to my raf & caleb girlies fear not i will still occasionally post oneshots in between chapters for yall :] this series will start off a lil slow ofc but i promise im so excited to show yall the rest 😫 also i think i got everyone on the taglist!! & if u wanna be added just ask C:

taglist: @leftpoetrymoon @valhalla-soulstealer @gingybimby @crowsandapples @novthirty @mcdepressed290 @jadeloverxd @satansdaughter123 @blitziwitch @luminaaaz @eialovescats @noliniodeaes @dramaticalsachan @loudhologramturtle @softiepeachess

In the night, the lights by the tarmac glitter like firelies.

Or stars: he closes his eyes and still sees the constellations there as lustering blurs, strewn along one another.

It’s beautiful.

The heel of his shoe scrapes the pavement like there’s something to be anticipated. The leather upper of it crinkles.

The evening is cold, crisp. He blows out a soft breath that shakes as it goes. Turns into vapor. Early December brings a chill not entirely comfortable, but Sylus doesn’t mind the thicker, cloudy skies one bit, or the gentle haze it drapes across the sun during daytime.

One thing’s on his mind. One thing only.

Propped against his car, hands stuffed in his pockets idly, Sylus tips his chin back. Overhead, your plane dips— a flashing set of red beams in the vast swath of darkness— the only one in the sky. Sylus watches it as it lands.

He lifts off from the car, then, and fully aware that the disembark will take some time, the sorting of the luggage and then the weaving between people and aisles to get to the front- where he’ll be waiting for you- minutes early, he goes to head in anyway.

You’ve come home.

✦

When you first spot him in the entrance, in a flurry of people bundled in coats- each from a different place but the same awed look as they watch the escalators- you’re almost stunned to see that same wide-eyed look on him, too. It… doesn’t quite suit him.

You note the absence of the twins with nothing beyond a small frown, albeit you’re internally glad for the reprieve- God knows you’re not capable of humoring three men in the state you’re in- but wonder why they chose not to come with their father to pick you up.

You wonder if it was their choice to begin with.

…But then again, you can appreciate the silence the lack of them brings. Between the boys and their father, you always got along a whit better with them despite their antics. Although… that makes it sound like you got along with Sylus to begin with. The truth suggests otherwise.

It’s also true that the truth has blurred somewhat while you’ve been gone.

Now that you’ve come back (temporarily; this isn’t a permanent arrangement- what it was before) you’re not so sure how these two weeks with your stepfamily will carry. Luke and Kieran were marginally easier to warm up to- though that was a chore in itself- but it’s always been a bit different with Sylus.

You’ve, always been a bit different with Sylus.

Estranged, but not... Cold as ice- but like a berg you’ve always got the implicit feeling that he could see everything below your waters.

It… unnerved you. Did all sorts of things to you, really, but that’s besides the point. For this small, temporary visit, it has to be.

For this trip, for the circumstances under which you’ve been summoned to Linkon, you’ll put all of your personal feelings (discomfort, bitterness- betrayal, even) aside.

You’re no longer a teenager balling her fists when things don’t go her way, stomping off to her room as a retreat- praying no one will follow but also praying they’ll care enough to come knocking later. And you’re no longer the woman you were almost seven months ago, the last time you visited. No, since then, you’re just a touch lonelier, although you’ll be hard-pressed to admit it aloud, and it softens some of your edge.

But for the sake of your coming here, you’ll put a lid on it all. The instability. The hurt. The…

“Sweetie, hey- Are… Are you able to talk? It’s…” A sigh on his end. “Important. I wouldn’t have pestered you otherwise.” You picture him with furrowed brows and minimize your distant persona as a streak of concern dashes through.

“Uh, yeah… I’m able. What is it?” To the point. No time wasted, no feelings worn. You want to be as bad-mannered as he’ll ever remember you. Unfriendly and unforthcoming— not that he’s ever been one to pale at the challenge that is loving you.

“I… have some news. Not the good kind. Find somewhere to sit down and breathe.”

Breathe.

He did say that: you remember, now. But at the time it all smeared together, all the seconds and minutes that you’d sat there hyperventilating.

The air outside is crisp. You inwardly curse yourself for packing your jacket; otherwise, you’d be putting it on now.

Stepping off the flight, you were shaky. A little strung out- as restless as you were fatigued. The bag you carry is heavy and requires you to constantly readjust it, but although Sylus is upright at your side and eager to take it off your hands, you wave him off.

“I-It’s fine.”

It’s not. None of this is, not really.

…But you came.

You wouldn’t miss it. Couldn’t forgive yourself if you did.

Overhead, the Ursa Major and Minor sit apart and form ladles. They fade in and out of view behind drifting clouds, hiding with other scattered, coruscating stars. You’re sure they have names, but you don’t know them.

He leads you to the car, but doesn’t leave your side to walk ahead. As he does, you can’t find it in you to stop yourself from slowly relaxing in his presence. Oh, you’ve never liked it, per se, but this truth is as obvious as it is embarrassing on your end: You feel safe in it.

He’d never hurt you. You know that.

…Yeah fine, he has the role of ‘paternal’ nailed to a fucking T, sure, but you’ll always believe it was meant solely for the twins— not for you. That will never change.

Because you already had someone who covered for you, in that regard.

Maybe your mother was easy to give him up, but you were different. And perhaps she’d gushed at the wedding ceremony and doted all over the big glittering rock on her finger and the opportunity to call another man her husband—

But you’d never call another man your father.

…You suppose even interlopers have a seat at the family dining table, though.

And you know Sylus, you do.

He’s familiar: from his rich, bergamot scent that’s meant to disarm with its sweeter vanilla undertones, to his resounding voice that always dips a suspicious octave when he addresses you (uncommon as that is when he’s feeling masochistic)- gentler compared to when he speaks to the twins— hell, even the way he moves. It all screams comfort, if only because you’re so used to it by now.

When you cross the street, you’re so tired you don’t even look both ways. You let him do it for you- and with pleasure he does, broad shoulder brushing you as he hovers a weightless hand at the small of your back, herding you carefully alongside him.

Coming off the plane, you’re positively exhausted. For so many reasons, you’re aching to throw yourself into bed and sleep away your last handful of hours spent traveling. In particular, the reason behind them.

…But you don’t want to think about that now, especially with him here. Even if that’s the elephant in the room you choose to ignore as you drag across the busy but quiet parking lot and struggle to keep ahold of your luggage.

When the heavy clasp starts to slip off your shoulder for the umpteenth time, and you’re sore and your jelly arms can’t hope to adjust it, Sylus swiftly reaching out to take it from you— you actually let him.

Everything is silent. The night carries but without a word.

The late night, wintry air and the massive parking lot stretching around you holds a certain peace in it. The thud of shoes over cement is hushed and the small clusters of people dotted under the overhang gather mutely, like they, too (just like the silver-haired man at your side, stealing glances you try not to notice) don’t want to get on your nerves.

You’ll make this work, somehow. Fourteen days, give or take— and then you’re free to go and cope with this in your own way, however ugly that may look.

Your own breaths are slow and uneven, but gentle all the same; for all your fatigue, you’re a little surprised that you take a moment to look up at the stars and admire the view, hands tucked under your armpits as Sylus rounds the car to the trunk.

Should’ve brought your jacket, you think for the second time, and look forward to the warmth his passenger seat has to offer.

You’re so drowsy and lost in the smoky, faintly spangling sky overhead that you don’t really notice the thunk of the back of the car or the figure that pulls to your side, lingering with you for a few seconds with mist for breath.

It recycles itself fast. Too fast, maybe... But you ignore that, too. Sometimes that’s your best course of action, you think- pretending that what’s there isn’t.

He hesitates before following your gaze, looking up to the hazy sky.

You vaguely wonder where he came from before picking you up; what fancy outing called for a sleek leather jacket and tailored, black jeans, the expensive, yet fine chain around his neck— his attire casually oozing refinement. What or who he’s dressed for. Too low-key to be a business meeting,… but too put-together to be loungewear.

Classy. But not trying too hard.

For a second, eyes flitting down to his chest thoughtfully, you wonder if he’s met with an old friend- before dashing the humorous idea to bits. He’s always been something of a lone wolf.

His voice is cashmere-soft when he speaks. “Are you ready?”

There’s so much he wants to say- to do- but he’s barring himself off from being too doting, too greedy. Each time you’ve come back to visit in the past five years since your moving out, sparse as those occasions are growing to be (not a fact he smiles upon), Sylus thinks you’ve mellowed out a bit, that you’ve lowered a wall to him— even if by a few inches. But he still wants to play it safe.

He thinks of game nights with the twins and your mother, uno cards and monopoly and a Jenga tower stacked meticulously upon the table— how one wrong move, the slightest brush of the finger, can send the blocks in a fray— and restrains himself.

For as good as he is at upsetting you, that’s never once been his aim.

…Yet you’re more at ease, tonight. If he had a few drinks in him, he might even venture to say docile.

It warms his chest as much as it squeezes it, a rankling wound with a persistent, cloying ache.

“Sweetie?”

You don’t look over to him, but you give a nod and let him carefully close the passenger door behind you.

The airport, with all its late night, hushed bustle and its strange, fairy light-like serenity, disappears into a speck.

In two weeks or so, you remind yourself, you’ll be back.

✦

The light from the streetlamps cuts up her face in subsequent flashes. It limns her with slate.

Sylus, unable to keep from glancing off the road every so often to give a cursory glance- the knowing that he needs to pay attention made a smaller thing with her right beside him- doesn’t see the harsh fluorescence, though, but silver.

She’s home. And it’s all he can think. Whether it was by her own volition or otherwise, under pleasant circumstances or not— she’s come back.

That means everything to him.

I mean— not that it’d be easy to— but there’s about a million things he wants to say.

That he’s missed her, for one. That it’s been a long time but all of it spent apart has done her better than it has him: she looks surprisingly well, all things considered. He hopes the darkness succeeds in masking some of the things he wears on his own face- the restless nights and the ‘why’ factor behind them, mostly.

But perhaps above all, Sylus wants to tell her that he loves her. That after everything that’s happened- the recent events and then the downright depressing phone call he had to make to her revolving them- he’s there for her. Whether she holds even half the bitterness she had for him years ago or still has her foot sticking out in the metaphorical doorframe of his life— it doesn’t change his availability when it comes to her.

He’s always had tough skin, but after living under the same roof as her for those couple years (a learning experience, to put it nicely), close to nothing can pierce through.

Except… Well.

Except her.

He swallows and looks out to the road.

Shadows eat at his periphery, blocks of yellow paint blurring in tandem. Outside the beam of the headlights, a vignette pours in.

On the drive in, he had some song playing on the radio- a poppy one, much too erratic for his liking, but to be fair, it did a good enough job at distracting him as his thoughts raced- but on the way back, he’s turned it off. Tells himself it’s to give the poor girl some peace and quiet— and that much is true, but it’s not the whole reason.

Sylus just has a little more trouble admitting he likes to hear the sound of her breaths, soft and even, as they occasionally cut back at the silence- and on paper it does sound bad.

He’s not like this with Luke, or Kieran. Helicopter parent taken to the max. Hanging on each word they say, every little move they make, internally grappling to piece together the why behind every seemingly trivial thing they do. Squinting at them through a crosshair but with his trigger on safety.

It’s just— his nerves are alight, okay? With her it’s all different.

Sylus can’t put a name to every emotion that flickers in him. Sometimes they pass like comets through his being, fast enough to blur by, but still hot enough to leave an impression— but for as compulsive as his thoughts around her are- as bad as it may seem- they’re not… nefarious. He cares for her an impossible amount, and yeah maybe he dwells on the idea of his stubborn, wayward stepdaughter a smidge often but it’s warranted. And it’s morally green in nature— she knows that, too.

So he can’t figure out for the life of him why some little bug in the back of his subconscious wants to flame him for it.

In any case. Sylus lets out a sigh, too soft to be heard, and spares a short glance her way, the corner of his lip quirking ever so slightly.

She’s come home.

And he’s thrilled- a little too fucking thrilled- but he knows she doesn’t do well with the doting so he tries his damnedest to keep it simple. She doesn’t like platitudes or small talk, oh, he learned that the hard way, but he also knows that she’d prefer it over the love bombing so that’s exactly what he settles on for the sake of lifting the somewhat dreary mood of the car.

…Hesitantly. “How was the flight?”

He wants to call her kitten but barely keeps off it. He wants to make his affection known but doesn’t want to upset her; he’s not exactly a man used to walking on eggshells, but he is the kind to make a sacrifice where the situation- the stakes- call for it.

To be clear, she- everything about her- calls for it.

Her response, placid from the standard wear and tear of traveling (but not entirely mean, not like she so often is) evens him out. Or maybe it excites him more, he doesn’t know.

“It… was okay,” she murmurs. “Good. The fanciest plane I’ve ever been on.”

Because up until now, she’s always made the long drive, refused the plane tickets he threw her way free of charge.

For whatever reason, he laughs at that, deep and hearty, like she’s told a good joke. She rarely ever sees him exhibit that sort of behavior even with his sons (albeit, most of the time, the twins are comedians only to each other), so she doesn’t really know what to take him for when he lilts in a pleasant tone, “Yeah? Good. I’m curious,” he adds with a slight dip of his chin her way, “Did they serve you anything?”

They did, actually. One of her favorite dishes. Which… was very convenient, but she didn’t really have the appetite.

“T-They offered,” she murmurs back, just a bit flustered.

I mean, look: she doesn’t particularly fancy the guy, okay? Nothing between them’s really changed since some years ago when she finally scraped up enough money to move out. At least, she tells herself so.

They go together about as well as oil and water. It’s just how it is.

…Perhaps it’s not entirely fair to Sylus to put so much blame on him, she’ll concede that much, but she can’t overturn the wedding, the uprooting of her and her mother from their small, beloved home in favor of a mammoth, modern estate- the way she was all but forced to leave her true father behind in the dust.

After enduring all that as a sixteen year old kid? sometimes it feels like a big ask for her to even act polite.

She will be… tame, though, in these two weeks.

“But I wasn’t really hungry.” Right then- embarrassingly loud- her belly gives a growl.

She shuts her eyes and prays the low purr of the tires over cement are enough to convince the silver-haired man beside her of her innocence- but to her slight horror, he just gives another soft chuckle.

Not deprecating by any means. Maybe she’d have preferred it that way, though, over the fond undertone in his voice- as subtle as it is uncomfortable for her to hear.

“No? I wouldn’t have guessed. Once we… get home,” he decides carefully, “I’ll have the chef make something for you. Would you like that?”

“It’s- It’s fine, thanks. I’m… I’m tired.”

“Ah,” he says as if ashamed, looking back on ahead at the road. “Why don’t you close your eyes and rest? I’m sure that the late night… ambiance will help you fall asleep.”

But she doesn’t want to, not in front of him.

It’s less out of not trusting him and more out of the fact that she doesn’t want him to take it as a sign that she so clearly does.

She’s always been stubborn.

And Sylus has always been patient with her, a trying man.

She doesn’t want to fall asleep here, to ‘turn her back to him’ in the more primeval sense, yet his voice is gentle,.. and the night is too, with its occasional groans of the engine and the silence that drones on in between.

She holds her eyelids open for as long as she can, but they want to droop.

On the plane, shot nerves and all, she was able to fight it off because that’s just what she does— she’s good at that- resisting. (And damn it all if the people directly involved in her life aren’t well acquainted with that simple fact by now.)

But now, she’s hanging on by a string. Her fiery spirit tires herself out.

She doesn’t like that his voice, all rich and throaty, every bit calming (albeit most of everyone else couldn’t say the same about it), is just like a lullaby. Like lyrics; simply set to the hum of tires as they roll over shadowy Linkon roads. The cadence they make is a languishing one.

And they slowly drift shut, her eyes. She inwardly tells herself that she’ll open them back up in a second; that she’s just resting them for a moment, but she’ll keep her ears open, her senses alert, her guard up—

“It’s alright,” he murmurs, “Rest.”

And oh, isn’t he good at that…?

Isn’t he convincing?

“I’ll wake you once we’re home.”

✦

He doesn’t.

No- contrary to his word, what you wake to instead is sunlight through sheer lace curtains and the foggy realization that you are not in the plane- or more recently, Sylus’s car. But what you slowly comprehend to be your bedroom.

Your surroundings prove to be… familiar: you catalogue them all as your mind lags a few seconds behind your eyes.

From a memory foam bed, you take in the cute frilly lampshade at your side (a little garish, yes, but it’s always lasted you), the floral quilt you’re comfortably tucked in and the posters strewn along your walls- cheap pops of color to enliven a lavish grey canvas.

When you moved into this room, sixteen years old and bitter- sixteen years old and hurting- you remember finding some joy in decorating your new, yet very much unwanted room with hot guys from vampire shows and wooden figurines your late father carved for you.

Right now, though, you don’t dwell so much on the wave of nostalgia that hits you as the confusion.

The door’s closed- which brings a small peace to your otherwise frazzled heart as you gradually come to. You take note of that and relax a little. You’re alone, and the home (a funny word when taking the sheer size of it into consideration; the too many rooms for the number of people it holds, the general lack of warmth) is quiet.

Tranquil, even, despite the lazy sort of bewilderment that notches your brow.

Did… Did he carry you in? But when…?

No, you let your eyes flutter shut and groggily plop your head back down. You pull an old stuffie closer and hold onto it, sighing out all your memory of the night prior as you bundle up again, ignoring the red lines of your digital alarm clock that tell you morning has long encroached on noon.

No, whether or not he carried you in- or maybe the twins, excitedly piling out the door as soon as Sylus appeared with your luggage in tow— doesn’t matter. All the events of yesterday, the stressful morning of packing and boarding, then the night which he stole after months of not seeing him- that fucking fond, almost breathless look he gave you as you stepped off the escalator—

None of it matters.

You don’t want it to.

✦

It’s almost 2 o’clock when you’re unpacking your bag and laying its contents out on the bed- still having not extricated yourself from the comfort of your room- when you hear commotion outside your door.

Ever so subtle but oh, you’ve grown the ear for it.

Your shoulders give a start at it.

“….think she’s still asleep?”

Then, they slump over and you sigh, hardly sparing a glance behind you.

“…I don’t know, bro, but the food dad left out for her is way too cold so I think we should just…”

The twins, no doubt, gumshoeing in the hallway, believing they’re sneakier than they really are as they press their ears to your wall, prying for information or- considering you’ve yet to visit the lower level or even the hallway- a sign of life.

Evidently, they’re not half the part of the secret agents they’d probably like to think.

…And you should be annoyed, you know. The bothersome pair of stepbrothers is lingering outside your bedroom under the illusion of secrecy and awaiting your next- your first- move since arrival: and it’s irksome. It’s not a hard invasion of your privacy, but it’s a nigh thing, and they’re well aware you don’t like all the breathing over your shoulder. That’s a fact that hasn’t changed since your teen years.

So the streak of endearment that comes, carving the smallest of smiles into your lips, is confusing to say the least, but you give in to it anyway.

Bed-head, dried drool at the corner of your mouth and all, you tiptoe over and open the door in a gust.

Luke and Kieran fall over and through like dominos.

Cursing, they climb to their feet and attempt to play it off. “Oh, hey sis—” (that’s Luke) “Oh, sis- good morning”— (and then Kieran) but you know better than to fall for their antics as they straighten out and cough up their excuses.

You also know better than to take any real offense to them; you suppose the seven or so years spent having to humor them will toughen up a person. It did you, anyway.

You cross your arms and let out a huff. “Boys,” you say in lieu of a real greeting.

And the whole scenario is distinctly familiar, like a memory reopened: their tumbling into you, your waking up in a too-big home and just praying the day will pass with as little contact with the big man as possible. You’re almost kind of stunned for a moment because it feels as if you never left this place to begin with.

As they rub the back of their necks and look sheepish, it’s hard to miss the interest in their eyes as they take you in- or the twinkle of excitement.

You wonder what they see as you stand there. If it’s the extra inches of your hair (mussed from sleep, a surprisingly pleasant one might you add) and the small physical differences here and there that are almost too subtle to spot- or if their eyes are raking over all that’s familiar. The parts of you they’re used to. The pretty, yet sort of mellowed eyes, the tension in your posture that never quite rounds out- the lips you purse into a thin line the longer they stare unabashed.

Luke is the one to break the silence when you dip your chin out of self-consciousness, snapping out of his daze with a grin.

“Sis- so good to see you again!” You can tell he means it. Oh, between the beaming look on his face and his hands that just barely hold off on yanking you into a hug, it’s pretty clear that he’s positively alight at your impromptu visit. But as your chest warms through, the best response you settle on is another huff and a dart of your eyes you can only hope appears nonchalant. Because it’s hard sometimes, okay-? to acknowledge you care for the twins a concerning amount.

The day you first met them— and their grandiose, debonair father, ever the expert at rubbing you the wrong way: he’s not to be forgotten— you made a vow to yourself to never accept them. Your mother’s second marriage ceremony you grudgingly attended with a new dazzling dress be damned— you were not a Qin, and all the legal documents she signed off on could burn in hell for all you cared.

The twins might always be troublemakers first to most of everyone else, you think, but to you, they’re… they’re your boys. As weirdly charming as they are cunning.

“It’s… good to see you, too, I guess,” you mumble.

They catch the tail end of your smile though as you try and fail to hide it with your hand, and it’s Kieran who ends up most emboldened by it.

Taking that first step forward, he wraps his arms around you in a brusque but warm hug before you can protest against it.

“Oh, c’mon, you know you missed us!”

In the next heartbeat, his brother joins, laughing at your ear as he slings an arm around you, pulling you from a clingy Kieran- albeit with some difficulty.

“How have you been? You know, we were waiting all morning to see you- we were so excited- but you’ve been a sleepyhead… You can’t blame us for coming up to check on you, right?”

You heave a laugh. “Oh, is that what the locals here call spying now? Just ‘checking in’?”

A chuckle at your left- Kieran, with his hand now perched at your hip as the two quietly settle on anchoring you between them. “Oh, please. By twelve o’clock, we started thinking you had actually died in your sleep.”

You shove at his chest- a fruitless action- but can’t bite back your laugh in time.

“Being the good brothers we are,” Luke picks up the sentence, seamlessly finishing where he left off, “We came to make sure you were still breathing.”

Maybe it’s bad taste, morbidly bantering back and forth about their assuming you’ve succumbed to this or that in your slumber- considering recent events, the ones that summoned you here, it certainly doesn’t look good. But the grim undertone flies over their heads.

It flies over yours, too, for a few moments as Luke tries to gives you a noogie and Kieran murmurs something about you missing breakfast, tugging absently at the fabric of your shirt (the one you’ve still yet to change out of) while he talks. But then one of them mentions something about how the last time they saw you was Mother’s Day and you just—

The world hiccups. You blink and push at their chests, respectively elbowing them away and this time they listen.

Backing up a touch, the boys watch your face as it falls and it’s not too hard to put the unseen pieces together- the three braincells they share irrelevant.

For lack of distraction, you fiddle with the hem of your shirt- already wrinkled from where it was toyed with- and back up to sit on your bed. Your half-unpacked things surround you and remind you of your initial task, which supplies you with a convenient excuse for them to leave.

“I- I’m not done settling in yet.” You blurt as if that’s a good explanation for your mini outburst, not looking their way. Partly because you’re too busy trying to swallow down the rising lump in your throat; partly because you’re only so immune to the kicked-puppy look they both wear on their faces.

You don’t cry anymore. Especially not in front of your stepfamily. However, the pang of grief that swoops down and seizes you is strong enough to take your words for a moment.

Breathe.

You curl your five fingers into your palm, and as every unique ribbon of hurt comes to you, you let it all go in a breath.

(Breathe: ah, that’s right, you remember it now. It was Sylus’s words; it was the phone call half your brain- the side absolutely bent on protecting you- wanted you so badly to forget.)

The boys observe you warily as you slowly puff out.

After a few seconds pass, you’re decent enough to flash them a smile (a too-tight one, but you hope they catch the hint and leave while you’re still polite about the how you give it aspect) and look to the door behind them. “And, uh… I still need to shower and get changed and stuff. Maybe I’ll see you both later.”

“In an hour,” Luke suggests in a light tone. “Y-You should come down then, okay…?”

It shouldn’t surprise you that he’s purposefully being more gentle with you after realizing they’ve unwittingly hit a sore spot- for all their pranks, they’re not some unfeeling jerks after all, and you’ve always been an exception to their nonchalance- but it kind of does.

You look him over thoughtfully, wringing your hands in your lap.

It’s always felt like a chore to get them to behave. Whether it be sitting still in their seats during class and keeping their limbs away from your own workspace, or quite literally pulling the rug out from the asshole who ‘accidentally’ spilled wine on the front of your dress at a business get-together your mother hauled you into- for as long as time, the twins have held a reputation for two things:

Being troublemakers; and their father.

…You wonder if he’s the one who gave them a talking-to before your coming. If they’re a little more mindful of their manners because they’re nearing 23 and finally maturing or because Sylus sat them down beforehand with a stern look and said behave.

An hour, like Luke proposed, is plenty of time for you to wash up and get dressed. Your shampoo bottle is with the few toiletries you managed to stuff inside your bag- and clean clothes are already strewn along your fluffy comforters; you need forty minutes at tops to make yourself presentable.

…But that’s not really the issue. The reason why you’ve been stalling on going downstairs and revisiting the airy living room, the kitchen (with, apparently, your cold breakfast), the sunroom that you loved to escape to with books and a handmade sandwich— now too cold to sit out in, you’re sure.

An uneasy swallow. Eyes trailing down a lanky set of legs, they eventually land on the floor as you open your mouth.

“I mean- even after I wash up, I still want to unpack my stuff, and…” To the boys’ credit, they’re patient- but you try to find your words quickly. “I just-“

When Kieran makes an unimpressed noise, his sibling jabbing his side, you close your eyes and drop the charade entirely.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to see him right now, okay? I just… I’m not prepared to deal with him right now. That’s all.”

Your act was poor to begin with. Everybody and their mom (well.) knows you’re not on the best terms with your stepfather. That’s putting it lightly.

But you’re trying. Oh, for the sake of this depressing, loathsome trip, you’re trying to put aside your own reservations about him.

One crosses his arms and taps his foot. The other sighs softly.

It’s Kieran who comments, “you know, you’re the only one who can get away with talking about our old man like that… Like he’s an overgrown toddler.”

Funny, the both of your step-siblings. Right now, though, you don’t laugh.

“He won’t punish her for it, bro, you know that so just let her get it off her chest-“

He pointedly ignores him, pulling away from the hand that goes to nudge him, continuing, “But he’s not gonna bombard you with questions as soon as you go down the stairs or something… I mean, what’s the big deal anyway, Y/n? You saw him last night, didn’t you?” He asks. “Surely you squashed at least some of the beef with him-“

“It’s not just ‘beef’,” you snip back before resigning, “But… yeah, I mean- I did see him, obviously. But it was already late and I was tired. So… we didn’t really talk that much.”

Kieran blinks. Mulls over your words for all of three seconds before saying—

(And oh, damn it all if his brother doesn’t try to stop him, revving up an elbow to thrust straight into the pit of Kieran’s belly before his lips can get too loose.

…But Luke thinks that their own shortcomings, sometimes so preventable it’s painful- all their foolish slip-ups and fails- are just as unable to be helped as the sun rising every morning.)

“What? But dad said it actually went really well-“

“Bro! Shut up! Dad said not to tell her that stuff because it might make her slink back into her shell or whatever-!”

As the wave of confusion crests over you, and then something… else that puts a distinct awkwardness in the air as you digest their words, Kieran has the gull to look flustered as he unfolds his arms and stammers.

“Ah- W- shit, man,” he curses before glancing to you- slumped on your bed as if to disappear inside yourself, a whit embarrassed despite your indifferent facade- frowning. “Don’t tell dad I said that, okay?”

Luke, fairly innocent in it all, joins his cause and begins pleading, too. “Please, sis. He’ll get mad at us both... Just don’t tell him we told you any of this, okay?”

You heave a sigh, weighing your head in your hand. “Just- can you two leave? Please?”

“Pinky promise you won’t tell him first. Oh- and-,” he steps closer, bold but innocuous, and extends his finger with a hopeful twinkle in his eye. “Pinky promise you’ll be down soon, too. The three of us can have a late lunch, yeah? We really missed you, seriously.”

You’re afraid of that proposed three becoming an unwanted four, but you’re growingly reaching your limit with them both- your daily dose of the twins being literally fed through a needle into your veins- and you just want them to scurry out and go.

To that end, you twine your pinky with his- and then his just as eager brother’s- and nod. “Yeah, okay... Bye, now.”

“An hour,” they chirp in unison, heads peeking out from the door as it swings shut behind them.

“An hour, sis~! Don’t forget!”

Two weeks, you close your eyes and tell yourself, shoehorning each pesky feeling that squeezes in your chest before it finds the chance to erupt to the surface and bleed.

With a long, shallow breath out, you return to the pile of clothes, some folded, others strung out from your carelessness, and begin stuffing them in your otherwise empty drawers.

Two weeks until you attend your mother’s funeral, and then you’re free to go.

read chapter 2 here

[wildflowersandvibranium]

Home Run Hearts

Pairing: Husband!Dad!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Mom!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky take your son to his afternoon baseball game and its a fun , joyful , beautiful summer day with nothing but love and giggles with your husband , kids and their uncle Steve!

Word Count: 3.1k ish

Warnings/Tags: FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFF kissing , flirting (Bucky and reader lol ) , cutie kids , featuring steve and his wife (he's best uncle ever) literally no real warning or tags

If I missed anything let me know!

Authors Note: hey!! i love love love this and its so cute (crying)!!!

My first series' second chapter comes out tomorrow and im estaticcccc!! if you want to have a read here it is >> Muscle Memory

More of my dad!bucky fics here

REQUESTS ALWAYS OPEN :33

The golden sun was already high and bright when you stirred waking up , the ivory curtains in yours and Bucky's bedroom glowing with the shows of a perfect , sunny summer day. 

You started blinking awake  , feeling the warm press of Bucky’s right arm snug around your waist , his breath slow and even against your mused hair.

He started to stir as you shifted , his bright blue eyes opening and a soft barely there smile pulling at his lips. 

“Mornin’ , sweetheart,” he murmured , voice still rough and hoarse with sleep.

“Good morning ,” you whispered back , pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw , nuzzling your face into his neck.

From down the hall , the sound of tiny little feet pattering across the wooden floor reached your ears , followed by your bedroom door slowly creaking open.

“Mommy! Daddy!” James Jr. or “JJ / J”  you called for shorts voice was chipper and excited , his brown bedhead hair sticking up in all different kinds of directions.

Bucky pushed himself up on one elbow , grinning at your guys son as he scrambled onto the bed. 

“Hey, bud. You ready for your big game today?” He said with a yawn.

JJ nodded furiously , his little hands clutching the front of Bucky’s grey sleep shirt. “I’m gonna hit the ball so hard , Daddy! And Uncle Steve said he's coming to watch!”

Bucky ruffled JJ’s hair , chuckling. 

“That’s right. You’re gonna do great out there today.”

You reached over with a smile , smoothing a hand down JJ’s back. 

“Let’s get you some game winning breakfast.”

A tiny giggle echoed from the doorway of the bedroom. Tiny Rebecca— or sometimes she insisted “Becs” , was clutching her favorite stuffed baby pink bunny, her chubby cheeks dimpled with delight seeing her family now up and awake.

She was still in her pink kitty print pajamas ,  her light brown hair was a soft mess of curls and strands stuck to and all around her face.

“Hi , baby,” you cooed ,  reaching out a hand to her.

Bucky swung his legs over the side of the bed and scooped her up in one strong grab , pressing a million kisses to her cheeks and face. 

“Morning, sunshine.”

She squealed and squirmed trying to get out of his hold but secretly loving it. She buried her face in his shoulder out of breath. 

“Daddy stop it,” she giggled.

“Okay , okay im done” He began to sit her down with a laugh.

He shot you a wink over her head , making your heart flip in your chest. 

Even after all these years , he was still your favorite sight in the world—strong and soft at once , his love for you and the kids shining in every move he made and every word he uttered.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Breakfast was a loud blur of energy and laughter. You made scrambled eggs and toast , and Bucky poured coffee into two mugs , singing along to an old song playing on the radio.

“Daddy , that’s silly,” Becca said again as Bucky swung her gently around the kitchen on his hip, her laughter ,  out shining the sun outside.

“Hey , what’s so silly about me singing?” Bucky teased , tickling her sides until she squealed.

You caught his eyes , a warm glow in your chest. “I think she’s got a point,” you said with a wink.

He gave you a mock glare , then leaned over to kiss your temple as you dished out the eggs. “Traitor.”

You shrugged , smiling. “It’s hard to argue with the cutest two-year-old in the whole wide world.”

You walked to the table sitting down and sat to eat your own.

James Jr. was busy with his plate , chattering about how he was going to be the best hitter on the team today. “I’m gonna hit it to the moon , Mom!”

“I bet you will Jay,” you told him , leaning over to kiss the crown of his head. “But just remember to have fun , okay?”

JJ nodded , his face serious. “Fun. Aaaand winning baseball.”

That made you and Bucky both laugh.

After breakfast , you helped JJ change into his little uniform , Dodgers blue cap and all—and packed up the gear he needed. 

As Bucky was finishing washing the dishes from breakfast he heard your booming voice down the hall. 

“James Barnes ,  pick up your underwear in the bathroom!” 

He turned and looked at his son who was headed out the door. “Junior , I know that's not for me.” He said with a hand on his hip. 

James Jr. groaned and dropped his gear bag and went to find you “Coming Mom”

After everyone was changed and there was no more dirty clothes littering the floor you guys headed out the door.

Bucky loaded the lawn chairs , an ice chest full of snacks and drinks , and the kids’ sunscreen into the trunk of the car.

Becs watched from her spot in your arms , pointing at everything her Daddy was doing. “Daddy strong ,” she said solemnly , her eyes wide with wonder.

Bucky gave her a playful grin. “You think so , Becs? Gotta carry all this for my favorite people.”

She grinned , snuggling closer to you. “My daddy so strong”

You melted a little at that , resting your cheek against the top of her head.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

The short drive to the field was filled with music and lots of toddler giggles. 

JJ was already buzzing with energy , bouncing in his seat as you sang along to old rock songs. 

Bucky’s voice , slightly off-key but so full of joy—filled the car.

“Daddy’s singing is soooo silly,” Becs announced in the middle of a chorus.

Bucky’s hand slipped from the wheel to rest on your knee , his laughter was warm. 

“That's so, baby girl? You’re breaking your old man’s heart.”

JJ joined in. “No , Dad it's true , you do sing funny!”

You laughed , feeling the kind of happiness that only this exact moment could bring.

When you arrived at the field , the smell of fresh-cut grass and sunscreen greeted you immediately. 

Parents of the players were already setting up their chairs and blankets , little kids in blue and white jerseys running around with bats and gloves.

Bucky pulled the cooler from the trunk and slung the folded chairs over his shoulder , his biceps flexing under his blue tshirt as he did. 

JJ ran ahead of you , his tiny cleats clacking on the pavement. 

You shifted Becca on your hip , her warm weight comfortable as she watched everything with wide eyes , her brown hair bouncing with each step you took. 

“Hold on tight , sweetheart,” you murmured to her , and she nodded solemnly , her hand fisting in your hair softly twirling what she could grab.

Near the dugout , Steve was already there , wearing a baseball cap and a grin as bright as the sun. 

His wife Betty was at his side , waving as she spotted you.

“Hey there , Barnes family!” Steve called , his voice full of affection. He knelt down to JJ’s level. “You ready to knock it out of the park , slugger?”

JJ beamed. “I’m gonna hit it so far , Uncle Steve!”

“I bet you will Champ,” Steve said , ruffling JJ’s hair. “And we will all be right here to see it.”

The game was everything you could’ve hoped for—hours  of laughing , cheers , and the soft thud of baseballs meeting gloves and bats. 

JJ was a buzzing bundle of energy the entire time , his little feet dancing in the dirt as he waited for his turn at bat.

Bucky sat beside you , one arm around your shoulders , his eyes never leaving the field. 

“Look at him go,” he murmured, his voice soft and swelling with pride.

Becs was nestled in your lap eating up a bag of chips her dad opened up for her.

When she finished her head leaned back and rested on your chest. Every so often, she’d giggle and point at her brother. “Jay running , Mama!”

“He’s so fast,  isn’t he?” you whispered back , kissing her soft curls.

Steve and his Wife  were just a few feet away , cheering loud and proud. Steve’s laugh boomed every time JJ swung the bat , and Becs would giggle even harder at her funny uncle.

“Uncle Steve funny,” she said , echoing the same phrase she’d used describing Bucky that morning.

Steve winked at her. “You’re not wrong , sweetheart.”

By the last inning , JJ’s team was down by one. 

The bases were loaded , and James Jr. was up to bat. 

You could see the nerves in his little drawn up shoulders , the way he twisted the bat between his hands, a nervous tic you learned.

Bucky leaned in close to you , his breath against your ear. 

“He’s got this,” he whispered, his voice full of quiet confidence.

You nodded , with your heart in your throat as you bounced Becca on your lap , your legs bouncing with excitement and anxiety.

JJ looked over at you and Bucky , and you gave him a big thumbs-up , your smile wide and reassuring. 

He took a deep breath , squared his shoulders—and swung.

The crack of the bat echoed across the field , and the ball soared past the infielders , rolling into the outfield. 

JJ took off running , sprinting , his tiny legs pumping as the crowd erupted in cheers.

“Run , baby! Run!” you shouted , your voice ragged with excitement as you stood tossing Becca to Bucky.

Bucky was on his feet throwing his daughter on his shoulders in one swift movement. 

His fists in the air , and Becca clapping her hands , squealing with joy for her brother. “Go , Bubba Go!”

 Steve was whistling loud enough to be heard across the whole field , making some parents turn their heads.

JJ rounded third plate and slid into home , his face lit with triumph and pure joy. 

The umpire threw his arms wide calling , safe! And the game was over. JJ’s team had won. He won.

You ran out onto the field , Becs back on your hip  , as JJ’s teammates swarmed him in a messy and sweaty group hug. 

Bucky scooped  up his son in his arms ,  spinning him around as he laughed and clung to his dads shoulders.

“You did it, Jay!” Bucky said , his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so proud of you, buddy.” He placed a quick kiss on his son's mused hair.

JJ’s face was flushed red , his grin wide and toothy. “I did it, Daddy! I hit the ball so far!”

“You sure did,” Bucky said , pressing another kiss to his forehead. He turned to you , his eyes soft and shining. “Best day ever , huh?”

You nodded , your chest so full you felt like you might burst. “Best day ever,” you echoed , leaning forward and kissing JJ’s cheek and then on one of Bucky's  ,  meeting at his lips.

Becca tugged at your hair softly , her sleepy eyes wide with wonder. “Jay good!” she said firmly.

You laughed, nuzzling her nose. “He sure is , sweet girl.” 

After many congrats from the family and a teasing headlock from his Uncle Steve , JJ was worn through and through . 

The afternoon turned warm and golden as the kids and parents settled in for a little post-game picnic. 

You spread out a big red blanket on the grass , and Bucky set up the folding chairs while Steve helped his Wife unpack the sandwiches and snacks.

Bucky cracked open the ice chest , passing out bottles of water and juice. “Alright , team,” he said with a grin. “Let’s eat!”

JJ flopped down beside you , his cheeks still pink from the game. 

“I’m so hungry, Mommy.” his head now in your lap.

“I bet you are , sweetheart ,” you said laughing , handing him a juice box. ”You did so good today Jay”

Becca nestled closer against your other side , her tiny hand tugging at the hem of your shirt. “Can have juice, Mama?”

You passed her a juice box , brushing a kiss to her temple. “Here you go, baby.”

Bucky sat beside you , his long legs stretched out in the sun , one hand resting on your leg the other bracing his body upright. 

He handed you a sandwich wrapped in foil , his eyes warm and tender. “Here you go, doll.”

“Thanks , Buck,” you said, unwrapping it and taking a grateful bite.

Steve, ever the uncle who never grew up , made goofy faces at Becs until she squealed with laughter , her little hand clapping against his shoulder. 

“Uncle Steve stop it , can't breathe ,” she declared again,  giggling so hard she nearly toppled over.

“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m the fun uncle,” Steve said with a wink.

As everyone ate , you leaned back against Bucky’s chest , feeling the solid warmth of him on your back. He rested his chin on your shoulder , his fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm.

“Look at them ,” he murmured , his voice soft. JJ was leaning back against the cooler , munching on a sandwich and still wearing his dusty baseball outfit, his eyes heavy lidded. And Becs was curled up in his lap , her sticky fingers holding a half eaten cookie.

“They’re happy,” you whispered back , turning your face slightly so your nose brushed his cheek. “I don’t think life gets any better than this.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to your temple , his voice sweet with the scent of mint. “I know exactly what you mean.”

You could hear the low hum of the other families around you , the distant crack of another bat hitting a ball practicing , and the soft rustle of the breeze in the trees nearby.

It felt like the world had slowed down just for a moment , wrapping you and your family in a perfect bubble of summer light and perfect joy.

After everyone had eaten and bellies were full , JJ wanted to play catch with his dad and uncle before leaving. 

You watched as Bucky tossed him an easy underarm ,  his big hands ever so gentle as he guided JJ’s little glove. 

Steve joined in too after a while , making a show of nearly missing every throw until it had JJ shrieking with laughter. 

Becs was passed out in your arms , her head resting on your shoulder as murmured sleepy things and on and off watched the boys play. “Daddy loves Jay”

“He sure does ,” you whispered , kissing her soft curls. “He's the best daddy in the world and loves you so so much.”

Bucky caught your eye from across the field , seeing Becca asleep , his grin lit up his whole face. 

He winked mouthing “Love you”

You mouthed it right back , feeling the truth of it deep in your soul.

As the sun started to dip lower in the sky , everyone began packing up. 

Bucky slung the ice chest back over his shoulder , his other hand resting protectively on JJ’s back leading him to the car. 

Steve and Betty helped fold up the lawn chairs , while you rocked Becca gently in your arms. 

“Did you have fun today, baby?” you asked her softly, and she nodded , her thumb in her mouth.

“Jay play,” she said, her little voice full of sleepy wonder. “Daddy strong. Mommy soft.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out. “That’s right , baby. Daddy’s strong and Mommy’s soft.” Laughing , snuggling her closer.

The car ride home was peaceful and quiet. 

The radio played softly ,  Bucky humming , his hand on your thigh rubbing soothing motions absentmindedly ,  thumb tracing soft circles. 

And every now and then he’d glance over at you with that look that still made your heart race and check in the mirror seeing his babies sleeping and safe.

Becs stayed asleep the full ride home , her head on your shoulder and her soft breath tickling your neck as you scooped her out of the car seat. 

JJ woke with drowsy murmurs , his words slurring as his eyes remained heavy.

“Best day ever,” he mumbled, his head bobbing.

“You’re right, buddy,” Bucky said, his voice low and warm. “The best.” as he pulled him into his arms.

Inside , you carried Becs straight to her room , laying her down in her pink princess bed. She stirred just enough to murmur something you couldn't quite make out before she drifted off fully again.

You padded barefoot to find Bucky who was in JJ's room , helping him change out into his favorite dinosaur pajamas after his quick shower. 

JJ’s head drooped as he leaned against Bucky’s shoulder, his little body worn out from the day , as Bucky helped him step his feet into the pant holes.

“Daddy?” JJ asked sleepily , looking up , now fully dressed. “You think I can be in the big leagues one day?”

Bucky tucked him into bed , brushing back his hair. “I think you can do anything you want , Jay. And me and mama and Becca will all be right there with you cheering you on.”

JJ smiled , his eyes already half-closed again . “You’re the best, Daddy.”

Bucky’s eyes met yours over JJ’s head seeing you leaned against the door frame , soft and shining a little glassy from his son's words. “Right back atcha , kiddo.”

When you and Bucky finally made it to your own room , you both showered all the dirt and fun from the day off till you were both squeaky clean. 

Laying in bed , in soft pajamas and tired limbs he pulled you into his arms , his lips brushing your forehead.

“Thank you for today,” he said softly, his eyes full of love. “You make everything feel like it's the best thing in the whole world.”

Your heart melted at that. “I think we all did that together.”

He leaned in and kissed your lips softly , lingering just long enough to make your stomach flutter. “Still,” he murmured against your lips pulling away, “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

“And you’re the absolute best mother to our kids and partner to have alongside me.” he said softly , his voice thick with love and slowly falling into sleep..

You wrapped your arms around his waist , resting your head on his chest. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Barnes.”

He laughed, the sound low and sweet, and kissed you again. “Here’s to more days like today.”

You nodded, closing your eyes and sinking into the warmth of him. “Here’s to-” murmuring falling asleep through your sentence.

Outside the window , the last light of the summer sun faded completely into that dusky pink purple glow. And inside , everything was right and safe and full of love—exactly how it was meant to be.

-end

Comments , Reblogs , Likes and Requests are always loved!

(although if you liked this fic please consider reblogging so it can reach a wider audience)

They let me know that you are enjoying what I'm publishing and gives me motivation to write more and more! :33

[cupcakegirl3]

“ask nicer”

wandanat x reader

i know places series - chapter 4

ch3 , ch5

s: natasha and readers day home alone

wc: 3.4k

tw: kidnapping, noncon, restraints, stockholm syndrome, meandaddy!natasha, softmommy!wanda, degrading terms (slut, whore, stupid), pet names, control, fingering, oral, slapping, spanking, breath play, slapping (with rings)

a/n: inspired by this plink (twitter (im not calling it x))

I woke up to a cold bed. Both of them gone, not a hint of either of them. Last night had been like the other nights, them using my body until I was spent and sore. For all of it, I was tied up, helpless to succumb to the. The only evidence I had that those nights were real was my naked body and the messy sheets on the bed. I was sore all over, my shoulders from being restrained for so long, my wrists from the rope, my hips for being spread for so long. My pussy ached, especially my clit, even the slightest movement of my thighs pressing together was painful. 

I laid in bed for a while, the white sheets wrapped around me, waiting for one of them to come get me. My stomach growled, waiting for breakfast. At least I wasn't chained to the bed like I usually was.

They never came. 

They always came. Normally it was Wanda, coming in as soon as I woke up. She would let me use the bathroom and then pick out an outfit for me to wear.

There was no clock but the sun was further in the sky. I could faintly hear someone in the house, though I wasn’t sure who. I should have been happy they were gone but a part of me was almost bored. 

After a while, I got out of bed, quick to go to the closet in my room. It was the only door without a lock on it. Inside were dozens of dresses, all ranging in color and patterns but all the same; short and revealing. I tried the dresser next, but I found only small shirts or shorts. Only small lace thongs with them.  

I settled on a matching shirt and short set. Just a simple pink color with small flower details all throughout. My stomach was completely exposed as were my legs. There was bruising along my thighs, as well as the cut Nat had made that hadn't healed yet. I think it had been a week since they first used me. But I didn't know.

Natasha. Not Nat. She didn’t deserve a nickname. 

The rest of my body was an array of small cuts and hickeys littered throughout. Wanda had even left some lipstick on my neck that I had no choice in removing. 

I explored my room further after neither of them came to get me. Finding all my favorite books in the corner and a beautiful vanity. I hadn’t gotten a chance to look in it yet so I did. I found only the best products. Feeling restless, I put some on. Just some mascara and blush, being careful to avoid the bruising on my face. I wanted to cover it up along with the hickeys but I didn’t dare. 

I had no idea what time it was when I eventually tried the bathroom door. I found it locked. I could still hear someone home. 

Not home. Here. 

I tried the main door it was locked. I tried to look around for anything and found nothing. I huffed, finally settling on finding stuff to distract myself with. I made the bed first. Then realized there wasn’t much else to do. I settled on picking out a book I hadn’t read in a while, climbing back into the bed. 

I had just begun when the lock on the door clicked, my heart began racing as I set the book down. I was almost—excited. I hated myself for it. 

Natasha’s blonde hair was messy as she walked in. It looked beautiful. 

“Well look at you making yourself at home!” She said, placing hands on her hips. She looked more relaxed than I had ever seen her. She wore a long baggy t-shirt and some leggings. 

I didn’t respond, I didn’t know how. 

She walked closer to the bed and put her hand out. Tentatively I grabbed onto it. She helped me up, taking in my appearance. “Making yourself look so pretty for daddy.” She pushed my hair back. “All it took was a good fucking didn’t it? Didn’t know my little girl was such a whore.” 

My heart sank at her words. I looked down at the floor, not bearing to make eye contact with her. She grabbed my chin. “No mommy around to baby you today.” She said harshly. “Now is there something you want to ask me?”

I took a deep breath. “Can I go to the bathroom?” 

She slapped me, “That’s not very polite.” 

I cowarded as she raised her hand again. “Can I please daddy?” 

She shrugged, “Better.” 

She didn’t let go of my wrist as she walked me to the bathroom, unlocking the door. She shut the door behind us and pushed me up against the mirror. “Brush your teeth.” 

I did as she said, using what was sitting there. Her gaze remained on me, her eyes moving down my body. 

“Beg. On your knees.” 

I quivered as I lowered my body down onto the floor. “Please.” 

“Is that the best you can do?”

I squeezed my thighs together to try and stop the feeling in my bladder.

“Daddy please let me. I really really have to go.” She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Fuck I couldn’t let her get mad. 

“Please let me Daddy, I’ll be good all day for you, please…I love you.” 

“Go.”

I ran to the toilet, instantly relieving myself as Natasha watched. I washed my hands after and walked over to her. 

I looked down at the floor again as she chained my wrists together like always. I thought maybe after all this time she would be a little more gentle with me. 

There was food waiting for me at least, a grilled cheese. She fed it to me and was surprisingly gentle. 

On the couch, she sat down and pulled me on top of her. Again, she pushed my hair out of my face. “So beautiful.” She whispered as my heart raced. “I love you.” 

“I-I love you too.” I said. 

“You don’t mean it.” Her gaze turned dark. 

“Yes-yes I do.” I said quickly. 

She hummed, her fingers running down my body and onto my hips. “Come here.”

As if I had a choice she moved me so I was straddling her. I hated the way my core got hot. She pressed my hips into hers. “Have you ever kissed someone before me?” 

I shook my head but a slap to my ass made me yell out no. 

“You’re such a good kisser.” She commented softly, her hands gripping my sore hips. My eyes trailed down to her lips, plump and pink. Wanda’s were always softer but I wanted to kiss her again to see. 

“Ask permission.” She commented. 

“Can I kiss you daddy?” 

Natasha leaned towards and captured my lips on her own. Soft and gentle, nothing like how it normally was. Her hands were firm but gentle. Tentatively I moved my tongue, Natasha groaned into my mouth which made me want to grind my hips on her. 

I shouldn’t feel this way but I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t help it when her lips felt so good on mine and how soft her hands were on my exposed skin. 

I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help it. 

Maybe I was going insane. 

Soon Natasha’s grip moved to my thighs and then underneath the thin fabric of my shorts. One of her hands quickly moved to the back of my head, holding my lips on hers. The other kept moving. 

I tried to fight against her as her fingers began resting on my pussy but it was pointless. Her tongue pushed its way into my mouth. “Come on pretty girl, let Daddy play with you pussy.” 

She pushed my head into her neck as her fingers rubbed slow circles on my sore clit. “Please don’t.” I whispered. It had never been just her, I always had Wanda there to comfort me when Natasha was mean.

“Shhhhh.” She cooed. “Your pussy is so wet for me darling, what do you have to say about that?” 

“It hurts.” I whined, attempting to hind in her shoulder but she held me firm. 

“I know.” I could hear the smirk in her voice. 

“Won’t Wanda get mad?” 

She slapped me on my cheek, “That’s not her name.” 

“Won’t mommy get mad?”

Two of her fingers pushed into me, I groaned at the pain. “I’m in charge, princess. Now stop asking questions, just relax and let daddy make you feel good princess.” 

As she violated me, her other hand stroked my hair delicately. I did start to melt into her. I forgot to be terrified of her. I lost myself to her touches. 

“Cum around my fingers angel.” 

My whole body tensed as I did exactly what she said. I felt my eyes ringing as she coaxed me through it. Unlike how she usually treated me, she pulled her fingers away and grabbed my head. I opened my mouth in shock and she took the opportunity to shove her wet fingers inside of my mouth. 

“Clean them off.” She ordered, no longer the soft woman she just was. Still, I did as she said, careful not to drag my teeth along them. 

Eventually she took them out and dragged the wetness along my exposed side. 

She kissed me again so gently. My body was so exhausted, my brain was so confused. I relaxed into her, my body pressing against hers and my hands gripping her shirt. 

Soon she guided me to lay down, her body pressing against me from the back. A plush blanket wrapped around the both of us as her grip on my tightened. 

“I love you.” She whispered in my ear. “You’re mine, and you’ll always fucking be mine.” 

… 

Nothing much happened the rest of the day. Natasha and I relaxed on the couch then she chained me back in my room while she showered but she released me right when she was done. Slowly, my heart didn't start racing when she looked at me, when she touched me. 

We went back to the couch, she sat down but she held onto my hips in front of her. 

“On your knees.” 

I did as she said, my body wanting nothing more than to listen to her. 

“So eager to behave now, aren't we?” 

“Y-yes, daddy.” 

Natasha had put on rings after her shower, the metal was cold on my face as she traced circles on it. All she wore now was a shirt and shorts, leaving her long, muscular legs exposed to me. My head swam with thoughts full of them.

She pulled her hand back and I couldn’t help but flinch, a small whine leaving my lips. A small laugh left her lips as I squeezed my eyes shut. 

“Your bruise is faded, darling.” I brought my gaze back up to her. Natasha’s cold fingers were back on my cheek, gently caressing the skin. “You look so pretty all bruised for me.” 

Her eyes were piercing into mine, butterflies shot to my stomach. She smiled, it made my head spin. 

“Beg me to hit you.” 

Her rings…

“Daddy…” I whined, looking into her eyes. “Please.” I whispered. 

“Beg me to hit you.” 

“No, please don’t— I’ve been—“

“Beg. Me. To. Hit. You.” 

My lip quivered, her hand was a present reminder of what I needed to do. I hoped that if I did beg, she would be a little nicer. 

“W-will you please—hit me.” I said, my voice sounding foreign. 

My head whipped to the side with the force of her slap. I tried my best not to cry, just to take it like she wanted me to, but fuck it was hard. 

“Again.” 

“Please beat me.” 

She slapped the other side of my face now, her fingers hitting my ear. Tears rolled down my cheeks as my ears began to ring. 

She grabbed my jaw, squishing my mouth. “I said hit, not beat. Do you like when I beat you? Do you get all sticky and wet, you fucking slut?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. She hit me hard, slamming into the side of my face. I was unable to flinch or hide away with her grip on me.

Finally, she released my bruised face. “Again. Really mean it this time.” 

“Please beat me daddy, I-I need it."

The strength of it knocked me over, the tight chain on my arms didn’t let me stop myself. I tried to crawl away from her. Stupid. 

“Stand up.” She demanded. 

Everything in me wanted to run, wanted to try and get away. It wouldn’t work anyways. 

She smiled at me again when I did stand up. “Stand in front of me, turn around.” 

My wobbly legs somehow carried me there. She pulled me back into her, “I’m going to move you, trust me or you’ll fall again.” She commanded. 

First she moved one of my legs back, so it was resting against hers. Then she moved my other leg to the other side. My back was to her front, her hands tracing circles on my stomach. 

Her fingers guided my arms to be above my head, bent at the elbows. 

“Good girl. Hold it there for a second.” 

My arms struggled above my head. The muscles were still sore from being chained. Her fingers ran under my top, grazing the skin of mg breasts. 

“Pretty slut.” She commented, her lips kissing the back of my head. “I’m going to give you a maintenance spanking. Give me a reason why you need one.” 

I whined, my arms beginning to shake from being held up there. I had to think—fast.

“To know that you’re in charge of me. T-that you own me.” 

“Good girl.” 

Natasha pushed me forward slowly so that I was lowered to the ground. My ass was in her lap, my arms holding my head on the ground. Blood already began rushing to my head when she started touching my already bruised bottom. 

I though after a while I would get used to the pain, but no. Every day it hurt more because of the old bruises. 

“I do this because I love you.” She would comment, her hand scratching the skin. 

My vision was starting to get blurry with the position and the pain. 

“It’s supposed to hurt. I want it to hurt. I want you to feel the pain, it reminds you of your place. Where’s your place?” 

“B-below you.” 

She slowly pulled me back up, moving me so that I could lay down. I was pulled onto Natasha’s chest, her hands coming around me. 

I softly cried into her chest and she didn’t care. I missed Wanda, I missed her so much. I needed to just be comforted. 

The door opened, welcoming in a soft breeze. My head shot up, instantly looking for Wanda in the doorway. 

“Mommy?” I shouted out. 

I felt Natasha’s grip tightening from underneath me but I couldn’t care less. Wanda smiled as she walked in, dressed in nice dress clothes, not the usual casual clothes she always wore. She looked beautiful.

I smiled as she walked over to be, effortlessly picking me up off her lap. 

“Bitch.” Natasha spat out but didn’t do anything to retaliate. 

“Missed you.” I mumbled, still holding back tears. 

She sat us both down on the other side of the couch. “I missed you too princess, tell me about your day.” 

Her hands played with my bare sides. Typically it would’ve sent heat to my core but the pain on my face and bottom were still too much. 

“We um… didn’t do much. Watched TV, ate grilled cheese.” 

She shook her head, placing a finger to my lips. “No, no, no. I want every little detail, mommy had a boring day.” 

I instantly told her every little detail, cringing with I told her what Natasha and I had done on the couch. Finishing with how she had hit and spanked me. 

“Hurts mommy.” 

She shushed me, “Darling…you know daddy is just trying to help you.” 

“I know—“

“Then stop complaining.” 

“Okay mommy.” 

She placed a soft kiss to my lips before kissing my bruised cheeks. 

“H-how was your day?” I asked, leaning forward to press my face into her neck. 

She sat back a little, shifting her hips into mine. My stomach was still in knots, I hoped that she wouldn’t touch me.

I could only think of how gentle she always was with me, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of me. She had that sickly, sweet tone in her voice that I couldn't help but have to listen to.

“Oh it was alright, thought of you all day.” I squirmed in her grip. Her fingers ran in circles down my exposed back. 

“Got us some takeout. Why don’t you go set the table.” Wanda asked, placing a kiss to my neck. 

“O-okay mommy.” 

….

My knees ached from my position on the floor. Slowly, painfully slowly, Natasha had been “prepping” my mouth. It started with one finger, then two, then three, now four. 

Tongue out, drool pooling on my chin and running down my throat. My clothes had been long since discarded, they barely lasted through dinner. 

Natasha pulled her fingers completely out, smearing the drool on my face. 

“Spit on my hand.” 

I did as she said, ready for my mouth to not be so wet. I cringed as she wiped it on my face, Wanda had to hold me in place. 

“Do you want to make daddy feel good?” Wanda asked.

“Y-yes.” My throat was so sore already. 

“Wanna eat her out?” 

“Yes…please.” 

Natasha was quick to smack me, Wanda instantly there to soothe the sting. “Ask nicer.” Wanda corrected. 

“Daddy please l-let me. Let me make you feel good.” 

“Innocent baby, won't even say it.” Natasha just rolled her eyes, and spread her legs. 

Her bare, glistening cunt was on full display for me. I had absolutely no idea what to do. 

“Lick a stripe up her pussy, I’ll spread her lips with my fingers.” Wanda whispered, pushing your head closer to her. 

Natasha let out a small whine as I did what I was told. “Again.” Wanda said. 

I did it over and over again, not knowing where to focus on. 

Finally, Wanda held my face to where I needed to be. “Flick your tongue.” 

Natasha moaned as I did so, the noise was beautiful in my ears. 

“Suck.” 

Natasha began grinding on my face, Wanda pushing me down so I couldn’t even breathe. 

“Good girl.” 

I could feel Natasha pussy gushing onto my face. Her taste was heavenly and I was addicted to everything about her. I hoped the better I could pleasure her, the better she would treat me. I liked the fact that I could make her feel good.

She grinded on my face. Using my lips and nose to help bring her closer. Natasha came with a loud moan, pulling me even closer. My head was fuzzy from the lack of oxygen but I didn’t want to stop. 

Eventually, Wanda did pull me away, instantly kissing my lips. Her tongue darted out, licking off the extra juices. Wanda moaned into the kiss, pulling me closer and I couldn’t resist it. 

“Can you sleep with me tonight?” I suddenly blurted out. 

Wanda pulled back, “I thought your pussy was sore?”

“No.” My face heated. “I— can we sleep in the same bed tonight.” 

Natasha laughed, slipping on an oversized shirt. “What makes you think you deserve that?”

“Please daddy.” I begged, for some reason my voice so desperate. 

“No, princess.” Wanda said. 

Tears formed in my eyes for the millionth time today. “Please mommy. I don’t wanna be alone.” 

“No.” Natasha said firmly, “Get up, you’re going to bed. You’re obviously tired.” 

Defeated, I listened to her. Wanda guided me back to my room, undoing the chains around my wrists. 

“Please mommy, I— I can’t be alone, please!” 

Wanda just shook her head. She walked over to the closet, trapping some pajamas for me. 

“I need you mommy please.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Baby, I can’t— we can’t. I’ll give you my shirt to sleep with alright. Now go brush your teeth.” 

I held back tears as I brushed my teeth and went to the bathroom. Wanda had dimmed the lights and set a glass of water next to the bed. 

“Mommy—“

“Don’t.” She said firmly. “Go to bed.” 

I couldn’t help but cry myself to sleep in the darkness, completely alone. 

[norrisainz33]

home for the holidays || ls18

☆ summary: lance and his partner start a new chapter now that the season is over and take their relationship to the next level

☆ pairing: lance stroll x nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none

☆ requested: nope! just a short one bc i don’t see enough lance fics so wanted to write one!!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has made a post

liked by lance_stroll, landonorris, carmenmundt, yourbff, fernandoalo_official and 128,134 others

ynuser: and just like that - the 2024 season has come to an end. this was a tough one but no matter what i am proud of the team and proud of lance. see all you beautiful people again in march 🤍

view all 324 comments

astonmartinf1: see you soon y/n/n! we love you ❤️

ynuser: 🤍 you more admin

user1: you are so real for posting the vegas pics of lance

lance_stroll: i love you 😘

ynuser: and i love you 🥹

user4: mama y papa

user2: i’m going to miss this silly season and seeing you practically every weekend smh

francisca.cgomes: see you sooner than march please😭

ynuser: you know i can’t go more than a couple weeks without you 😔

user44: can lance fight?

scottyjames1: no

user44: SCREMING

ynuser has posted to their story

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user1: most canadian thing i’ve ever seen

lance_stroll: missed this and missed you darling

ynuser: i missed you more lance. i’m overjoyed to be back 🤍

yourbff: i’m so glad you and lancey are finally home

ynuser: me too! this season was a long one 😩

yourbff: you both are stronger than i

ynuser: i’m not sure how we made it honestly! but it’s time for new beginnings and rest 🫶🏻

user2: time for some much deserved relaxation

user6: just saw the f1 secret santa and can’t stop thinking about how good of gift giver lance is and how he probably got you the best gifts ever

fernandoalo_official: happy holidays mi amiga

ynuser: gracias nando! i hope you have the best break with all of those you love most 🤍

user3: i hope you have the best break y/n

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yourbff: i can’t wait to visit you in your new home!!!

ynuser: i can’t wait for you to visit!! one of the spare bedrooms has your name on it bestie

user11: ahhh congrats y/n!!!

carmenmundt: congrats on your and lances new home!! looking forward to visiting 😘

ynuser: thank you carmen! i miss you sm already. please come visit soon 🤍

user14: so so happy for you and lance. end game fr

lance_stroll: remind me why i thought moving right after the season ended was a good idea

ynuser: you said, and i quote, “i want to be home for the holidays and host all the people i love in our home.”

lance_stroll: well when you put it like that….

cholestroll: yayyayayay!!!!! can’t wait to see it in a few days

ynuser: can’t wait to see you and scotty and the lovely little bug soon. it’s been too long

astonmartinf1: cheers to new beginnings ✨

lance_stroll posted to his story

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chloestroll: the tree is so cuteeeeee oh i love it

lance_stroll: it is ! y/n is very excited for the holidays

chloestroll: as she should be!! do you have everything set?

lance_stroll: everything should be set up according to plan! im beyond nervous though

chloestroll: don’t be!! it’s going to alllll be ok

user3: y/n is so cute

scottyjames31: glad she’s getting you into the holiday spirit

lance_stroll: between y/n and chloe there’s more than enough holiday spirit! we’ve got hanukah and christmas covered over here

user4: pookie christmas lets goooo

ynuser: i am having the most fun decorating our new house 🫶🏻

lance_stroll: me too my love. building this life with you is everything i could ask for and more ❤️

user5: i’m glad you’re getting the time to relax lancey. you deserve it after this season

lance_stroll has posted to his story

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user2: holy crap this is beautiful?????? and she managed this right after you two moved in???? get this girl an award

fernandoalo_official: looks beautiful! can’t wait to hear about how your evening goes

lance_stroll: you’ll be one of the first to know ❤️

user6: this called me broke in about 800 different languages

pierregasly: WOW! can i hire y/n to decorate my house?

lance_stroll: for a hefty price 😉

user9: you better marry this girl i s2g

ynuser: thank you 🥹 🤍😘🎄

lance_stroll: no thank YOU gorgeous! i am so thankful to have you help me host the holidays ❤️

ynuser: 😭 i love being a part of your family lance

lance_stroll: we all love you so very much ❤️

ynuser: you’re going to make me cry 🥹

chloestroll: eeeeek!!!!!! today is THE day 🤍🤍🤍🤍

lance_stroll: she doesn’t suspect a thing 😍

user12: her outfit is everything ??? literal angel

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liked by lance_stroll, iamrebeccad, fernandoalo_official, yourbff, scottyjames1, and 326,137 others

ynuser: tonight may have been the best night of my life. wishing you the happiest of holidays from the future mr and mrs stroll ❤️

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user18: this is so important to me you have no idea

chloestroll: welcome to the family sis 😘

ynuser: sis 😭 oh i love you chloe

georgerussell63: 🥹 congrats! you two make the perfect couple

ynuser: thank you georgie ❤️

fernandoalo_official: felicidades mis amigos

ynuser: gracias por todo nando 🫶🏻

user32: my mom and dad are getting married im overjoyed

lance_stroll: i can’t wait to make you my wife

ynuser: and i can’t wait for you to be my husband 😘

user23: you look so good in white

astonmartinf1: best news we’ve seen all day

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated.

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[houseofaegon]

ENCHANTRESS ╱ BOB REYNOLDS SERIES

✷ ─── +18 MINORS DNI 𓏲  ◟ ♡ ˖ ࣪ emotional trauma, mentions of death/grief, witchcraft, blood magic, violence, necromancy, ritual magic, body horror (mechanical corpses), mental manipulation, emotional intensity and tension, supernatural possession, canon-typical violence, found family themes, bucky being a big brother, psychological instability (enchantress/void dynamic), unspoken desire, sexual tension (non-explicit), battle trauma.

✷ ─── AUTHOR'S NOTE. i cooked served and ate yall!!! damn okay chapter 2 came fassssstttttt im so excited and so inspired to write arabella and bob omg ughhh i love my babies. my soul probably left my body while writing this chapter because wtf just happened!! i'm sick. i want void so bad and i'm so obsessed with the whole enchantress x void dynamic filled with sexual tension and obsession and need. and yet they still haven't even touched each other. i'm crying. i'm pacing. i'm shaking with anticipation and anxiety. all of the above. we're already deep into the spiritual feral monsterfucker territory and i fear it's only gonna get worse from here. void is obsessed with enchantress, and i am obsessed with them both. i'm unwell. grab your tea, your candles, your crystals because it's about to get darker and hungrier. more chapters coming soon!! i love you all smm and thank you for letting me being unhinged and insane and always cheering for what i write. i appreciate you all so so so so damn much. thank you for reading and giving this unhinged little series a chance. love always, bri.

✷ ─── ENCHANTRESS SERIES. chapter one: beauty in tragedy. chapter two: the devil you know. chapter three: the witch. chapter four: moonlit waters. chapter five: divine hunger. chapter six: to burn & be burned. chapter seven: of teeth & tenderness. chapter eight: bound by blood. chapter nine: ashes between us. chapter ten: salt in the wound. chapter eleven: blood moon. chapter twelve: whispers in the dark. chapter thirteen: the witch and the void.

Life in the Watchtower was easy.

Or maybe Arabella just made it look that way.

Two weeks in, and she was already barefoot in the hallways, leaving salt trails behind her like breadcrumbs. Crystals littered every windowsill and shelf. Vinyls spun on her old record player each morning, Fleetwood Mac echoing through the tower as she cooked breakfast barefoot—black silk robe, bedhead curls, and a wooden spoon in her hand like a wand.

The lights stopped flickering when she passed. The air smelled like herbs and something sweeter. The walls stopped groaning. Dead plants came back to life.

It wasn't magic.

Or maybe it was.

She adapted faster than Bucky ever thought she would.

He’d built her a room the day she arrived—no questions, no ceremony. Just like Tony had done years ago. It wasn’t as high-tech, but it was safe. Warded. Quiet. Full of windows and her favorite things. And it felt just the same.

Felt like home.

Arabella had looked at it once, eyes shining just slightly, and said, “You remembered the salt in the corners.”

And Bucky had replied, “Of course I did.”

Because he did remember. All of it.

The way she couldn’t sleep without her crystals arranged just so. The smell of her cleansing incense, like pine and burnt clove. The soft hum of her chants in the dark, the way she muttered in Spanish when she was half-dreaming.

She slipped back into his world like she’d never left.

Yelena adored her.

Of course she did.

From the first day, they were chaos and fire, two halves of the same wicked coin. They sparred in the gym, Arabella casting misdirection charms mid-fight while Yelena laughed and tackled her anyway.

They had a running tally written in chalk on the kitchen wall. Yelena: 6. Arabella: 7. The last win was a draw, after they both ended up hexed, bruised, and breathless with laughter.

At night, they painted each other’s nails in wine-dark colors and gossiped in three languages. They danced barefoot on the roof under the moon, music blasting, hips swaying, Arabella’s dark hair catching the light like smoke.

“You’re my favorite war crime,” Yelena whispered one night, drunk on cheap vodka and found sisterhood.

“Right back at you,” Arabella replied, clinking their glasses together.

Ava was different. Quieter. Sharper. But not distant. She didn’t speak much—but with Arabella, she sat.

They trained together in silence, matched in precision and grace. Arabella stitched protective sigils into Ava’s gloves and never mentioned it. Ava slipped her protein bars and flowers in return and said, once, quietly, “Your presence is... grounding.”

Arabella had smiled, slow and soft. “So is yours.”

Sometimes they sat on the balcony together, watching the sun rise. Neither said a word. Neither needed to.

Alexei was absurd and endearing.

He doted on her like a second daughter—called her "my little shadow witch" and brought her strange, wonderful gifts from his past: pocket knives with history, books with blood-stained corners, a hand-painted flask from the Soviet years.

He taught her how to shoot with antique pistols even though she didn’t need to.

She taught him how to ward his whiskey with a hangover charm.

Once, she asked him why he always brought her things.

“Because daughters should have gifts,” he said with a shrug. “And you? You are special. You are mine now.”

She’d laughed and hugged him, just long enough to make him sniffle and pretend it was allergies.

Walker surprised her.

Not because he was charming. Because, honestly, he wasn't. He was irritating, loud, too rigid, always a little bit out of sync with her energy.

But there was something… earnest beneath it. Something human.

They argued constantly.

She called him Walmart Captain America or Walker-Red-Flag. He called her Witchypoo in retaliation. But there was a rhythm to it. A low hum of mutual tolerance that slowly grew into something more.

She read his tarot one night after he muttered something about not believing in “that bullshit.”

The next morning, he left an extra cup of coffee on the table for her. Black. Just how she liked it.

He still groaned when she walked into a room.

But he always walked in after her.

And then, there was Bob.

Bob Reynolds, who barely spoke above a whisper.

Bob, who watched her like he was trying not to fall apart. Like he already had.

He was quiet. Almost scared of her at first—not in a way that made her bristle, but in a way that made her ache. He looked at her like he knew she could destroy him.

And he kept showing up anyway.

Bob started coming to her room after midnight.

He started sitting with her at night. Quietly. Without words. She’d be pulling her tarot cards under the moonlight, charging her crystals on the sill, Stevie Nicks humming in the background—and Bob would just be there, reading a book in her chair.

Sometimes he fell asleep on her couch. Curled up like he was afraid he’d take up too much space. She never told him to leave. He never asked to stay. They didn’t talk about it.

But he started bringing his own mug for her tea. Started asking her what the cards meant when she shuffled them slow, eyes half-lidded with sleep.

He never touched her. Never tried. But he looked at her like she was something holy. Like she was the only thing in the world that made sense.

And the Enchantress?

She whispered. Not in hunger. Not in warning. But in awe.

“He sees us.”

Arabella didn’t answer. She never did. But she felt it—deep in her bones, under her skin, in the quiet hum of her breath when Bob looked up from his book and met her eyes.

There was no fear there. Not anymore. Just… recognition.

Like they were made of the same broken thing.

And when he fell asleep on her couch, breath even and hands unclenched, she watched the rise and fall of his chest and whispered ancient words beneath her breath—not to keep him out.

But to keep him safe.

One night he broke the quiet.

“What does it mean,” he asked softly, “when—when the uh, cards keeps showing up upside down?”

Arabella didn’t look up. She was lighting a candle. Her fingers moved with purpose.

“It depends on the card,” she murmured. “But usually? It means something’s resisting.”

Bob swallowed.

She glanced up then, sharp and knowing. “Are you resisting, Bob?”

He didn’t answer. But inside his mind, The Void stirred.

“She’s not afraid of you,” it whispered. “She’d let us in.”

Bob’s breath hitched.

Arabella tilted her head. “You okay?”

He nodded once. Too fast.

She smirked. “Liar.”

The Void purred.

“She’s ours,” it whispered slowly. “Let me speak to her. Just once. Let me see how much her darkness glows.”

Bob gritted his teeth. Looked away.

Arabella didn’t press. She just reached out and gently placed a crystal in his palm—warm from her skin.

“For when it gets too loud,” she said.

Bob didn’t let go. Not for a long time.

Three months had already passed, and life seemed easier for Arabella. The kind of ease that came slowly, after years of unrest. The kind that settled in her bones like warm tea and candlelight.

She still walked barefoot through the halls. Still lined doorways with salt. Still played Fleetwood Mac on her record player every morning like it was a ritual—because it was. Still danced under the moonlight like no one was watching, even though Bob always did. She laughed more. Slept better. She was healing, quietly, completely.

But The Enchantress never slept. She whispered, always. A constant thrum beneath Arabella’s skin. Like wind at the back of her neck.

And every time Bob walked into a room—every time his eyes found hers across the kitchen, across the training mat, across the quiet of her candlelit room...

The Enchantress screamed. Not in pain. Not in rage. In want.

“He carries so much darkness and pain in him,” she hissed. “Let me taste it.”

Arabella had kept her buried. Chained beneath crystal grids and ancestral spellwork. But Bob made everything crack open. Bob felt like her. And the Enchantress was starting to see freedom.

Not to destroy him.

To touch him.

To speak to the Void and be spoken to in return.

It was warm in the kitchen. Sunlight spilled across the floor, soft and golden, washing over the table where the team had gathered.

Arabella was humming under her breath, barefoot and wrapped in a black silk robe that fell off one shoulder. Her hair was a halo of curls, her eyes half-lidded with sleep. A record played in the background—Stevie, again.

The table was loud.

Yelena was trying to argue that vodka counted as a breakfast food while simultaneously sneaking bacon off Alexei’s plate.

Walker rolled his eyes. “You people are unhinged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Ava muttered, sipping her coffee.

Alexei grinned over his mug. “In Russia, we ate meat for breakfast. And sometimes men.”

“Okay, Hannibal,” Yelena shot back.

“Enough,” Bucky said, laughing into his cup. “Let the witch serve the food in peace.”

Arabella smirked as she walked over with a plate of pancakes—perfect, golden, stacked high, topped with warm berries.

Then—she stopped.

Her body went still mid-step.

The plate slipped from her hands. Fell. Shattered against the tile at her feet like a crack in the world. Syrup and fruit and ceramic scattered across the floor.

Silence slammed into the room.

Bucky shot to his feet. “Bells?”

She didn’t answer.

Her eyes glazed—then turned black for the briefest second. A flicker. A flash.

“Arabella.” His voice sharpened. “What’s wrong? Bells, talk to me.”

She blinked slowly. Her voice was barely a breath. “There’s something happening.”

Yelena was on her feet. “Bella—?”

But Arabella was already moving.

She crossed the room like she was sleepwalking—barefoot across shards of porcelain, bleeding but unaware. Her eyes locked on the console in the corner.

The tower’s tech wasn’t hers—but her fingers moved like it was. Smooth. Instinctive. Like the codes were written in her blood.

“Arabella,” Ava said, voice tight. “What are you doing?”

"You're bleeding," Bucky whispered.

She didn’t answer.

Everyone followed—hovering behind her as screens lit up, one by one. Her eyes flickered, scanning feeds, fingers dancing like she wasn’t even thinking.

And then—

The screen froze.

And her heart dropped.

Security footage from an old, sealed-off subway station. Flickering light. Smoke curling from the stone. Runes—her runes—scratched into metal. Twisting. Burning.

And in the far corner—machines.

Half-dead. Half-alive.

Stirring.

Moving.

“Oh my god,” she whispered.

Yelena grabbed her arm. “What is that?”

Arabella stepped back, hand pressed to her lips.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream.

But her voice was hollow when she said, “They’re using dark magic. Twisting it.”

Her pulse thudded through the room like a war drum.

Bucky looked at her. “What do we do?”

Arabella turned toward him slowly. Her eyes still rimmed in black. “We stop it,” she said. Her voice was calm.

But the floor beneath her feet had already begun to hum.

The energy was different now. The warmth of the kitchen was gone—snuffed out by what Arabella had seen. What she felt. The shattered plate still lay back on the floor, forgotten. Everyone filed into the briefing room in silence. Even Yelena, usually muttering curses under her breath, said nothing.

Arabella stood at the head of the room now. Not Bucky. Not this time.

The screen behind her glowed—static-edged footage looping in jagged, grainy frames. The subway station. The runes. The machines.

Her runes.

Bucky leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossed. His gaze never left her.

“Tell us,” he said.

Arabella’s jaw was tight. Her hands didn’t shake—but her voice was colder than it had been in months.

“There’s an old network of sealed tunnels under Brooklyn,” she began. “The MTA shut them down decades ago. No access. No cameras. But something got in.”

She clicked the screen forward.

Close-up footage. A sigil burned into metal. Corrupted lines of spellwork. Smoke curling in unnatural shapes.

“This isn’t just tech. It’s necrotic magic—dark, ancient, and bound to blood.” She looked up. “My blood.”

The room went still.

“They’re using resurrection rites. The same one's I learned from my grandmother. Something’s trying to merge death magic with..."

She hesitated. Her hands hovered above the console, fingers trembling.

“Merge it with what, Bells?” Bucky asked gently, stepping forward.

She swallowed. And then she clicked one more frame forward. The screen froze.

A metallic body, half-rebuilt, cables woven through bone, its chestplate still glowing with a dull, rust-colored arc reactor.

Stamped in silver, unmistakable:

Stark Industries.

Arabella’s mouth parted. Her eyes filled instantly. A sharp breath caught in her throat, and her knees wobbled slightly. She reached for the table like it might hold her up. She stared.

At the logo.

At what it meant.

At what it was

And what it wasn’t.

“They’re using his work,” she whispered, voice breaking. “Tony’s work. They’re—he’s gone, and they’re using what he built to… to raise the dead.”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

“I spent years learning how to put spirits to rest. How to honor them. And they’re using his code to trap them. Trap the souls of the dead. To force them back into metal and ash like—like it’s a tool. Like it’s not sacred.”

She shook her head.

“It’s not just my magic,” she breathed. “It’s his name. His legacy. They’re twisting everything.”

Bucky moved without hesitation. He reached out, gently rested a hand on her back. Didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

Arabella didn’t cry—not fully. But her shoulders trembled.

And when she finally looked up, her eyes were dark. Not black, not yet.

But close.

“I’m going down there,” she said, voice low. “And I’m burning it to the fucking ground.”

The silence held like breath.

Arabella stood in front of the screen, her shoulders squared, her hands still shaking. Not from fear. But from rage. The kind of fury that lived in bone and had the power to crush them. The kind passed down through the blood of women who had always been told their power was too much.

“We’re going with you,” Bucky said, his voice stern.

Arabella blinked. Her mouth parted. “No,” she said, voice hoarse. “You don’t understand. This magic—it’s not meant for you. It’s old. It’s dark. It’s not made for you.”

She turned to face them all. Her eyes shimmered, rimmed with black. “It wants to hurt. It feeds on what you love. You step into that circle unprotected and it will devour you. I’m the only one who can walk into that circle and survive it. Alone.”

Bucky’s expression didn’t change. His voice didn’t waver.

“You’re not going in alone, Bella.”

She exhaled, sharp. “Bucky—”

“No.” He stepped forward. Firm. Grounded. “We’re a team. A family. And family sticks together.”

Arabella opened her mouth—but Yelena cut in before she could speak.

“You think I’m going to let you crawl into hell without me? Bitch, please.” She crossed her arms. “If you die and I’m not there, I’m going to hex your ghost. Badly.”

Alexei nodded solemnly. “I will bring vodka and blessed grenades.”

Ava’s voice was soft. “I'm in."

Walker looked like he wanted to protest. Arabella raised an eyebrow.

He immediately nodded. “I’ll… drive.”

Arabella almost laughed. Almost.

Then—he stepped forward.

Bob.

He didn’t speak at first. Just moved, slow and deliberate, until he stood beside her—close, but not too close. Not touching. Never touching.

Arabella didn’t turn her head, but she felt him like a second heartbeat. The weight of him. The pull. The thrum of his power bleeding into the air between them, brushing against her skin like smoke.

Too close.

Inside her chest, The Enchantress stirred.

“He’s here,” she purred, velvet-smooth and low. “Let me taste his darkness.”

Arabella’s breath caught. She held herself still, fingers curling tight at her sides. If she reached out, even a fraction of an inch, she knew she wouldn’t stop. She knew the Enchantress would rise with want, not war.

And in the stillness between them, The Void whispered inside Bob’s mind.

“She burns. I want to feel how hot.”

He didn’t move either. Not even a breath out of rhythm. But his jaw clenched, his eyes locked on something distant, her, and his hands flexed once like they ached to lift and couldn’t.

"I'm going with you. You can't do this alone," Bob whispered.

Arabella didn’t answer at first. Couldn’t. The words hung between them like smoke, like a spell half-cast and waiting.

She exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the glowing screen. Her jaw clenched. Her voice, when it came, was barely a whisper. “You don’t understand what this kind of magic does, Bob.”

Inside her chest, the Enchantress curled tighter, more awake than ever.

“Let him come,” she whispered. “Let him see what I can do with a god in my hands.”

Arabella blinked hard. Shut her eyes. Shut the voice out.

“I’m still coming with you,” he whispered. The Void stretched just beneath the surface of him like it recognized her.

And Arabella, after a beat, nodded. Just once. She didn’t say thank you. She didn’t say don’t.

She said, “Then stay behind me.”

And prayed to everything she knew that he would.

The tunnels beneath Brooklyn were colder than they sould have been, not the kind of cold you could feel on your skin, but the kind that settled into bone and memory. Haunted. Like a nightmare. The air was thick with rot and cooper, and the deeper they went, the more the city above felt like a distant dream.

Ava and Yelena took point, flashlights flickering across crumbling tile and twisted metal, weapons steady. Bucky and Walker kept a slow, even pace behind them, eyes always moving, always watching. Arabella hung back with Bob, her steps silent. She didn't speak. She couldn't. The walls were already whispering.

They’d passed the third tunnel junction when Bucky turned his head just slightly, enough to glance back, voice low. “You sure you wanna do this?”

Arabella didn’t even blink. “I’m the only one who can.” Her voice carried, calm and sharp, no room for argument.

The further they went, the worse it got. The walls began to hum—not with electricity, but with something else. Something dark. Something old. The kind of hum that lived in ritual circles and the mouths of the dead. Arabella’s fingers twitched at her sides, power prickling just beneath her skin. Her breath shortened as she walked, every step dragging her deeper into the echo of magic that felt too much like her own.

Bob shifted beside her, breath stuttering, his hands flexing open and closed. He didn’t say anything, but she felt it—his power swelling beneath the surface like a wave waiting to crash. And then came the sound. Not footsteps. Not breathing. Scraping.

They didn’t have time to react before the tunnel erupted around them—metal shrieking, bone cracking, a dozen bodies dropping from the shadows like meat puppets sewn together with cable and magic. They moved wrong—jagged, broken—eyes glowing red, limbs clicking as if trying to remember how to be human.

Yelena cursed under her breath, blade already drawn, her voice snapping out like a gunshot.

“Well, shit.” Ava phased just in time to avoid a clawed hand, her body flickering with static as she reappeared behind it, driving a blade into the base of its neck.

"What the fuck—" Walker muttered, firing his gun. It did absolutely nothing.

Bucky barked out orders, trying to pull them back, keep the team together, but they were splitting—forced apart by sheer chaos.

Arabella didn’t move.

She walked into the center of it all, slow, deliberate, untouched by the panic around her. One of the creatures lunged and froze midair, stopped by a sudden, invisible force—its body cracking in place like glass. Her voice was quiet. Almost kind.

“Enchantress.”

It wasn’t just a name. It was a summoning.

Her eyes flicked black, her pupils blown wide, and the transformation rolled through her like a flood. Her body straightened, her hair lifted in a wind that didn’t exist, her lips curled into something that was not a smile but close enough to frighten. Glowing sigils ignited across her skin—runes carved into flesh, ancient and burning.

The Enchantress rose with her breath, her voice shifting into something layered, rich, older than anything alive in that tunnel. She didn’t blink as the corpses charged again.

She lifted her hand and whispered in Spanish, a language soaked in blood and moonlight. “Your magic doesn't belong here. Give it back to the earth were it came from."

The wave of enemies collapsed like dominos, falling with a sound like wet bone and shattering metal. One screamed, high and broken, before bursting into smoke. Another reached for her and disintegrated mid-motion. Enchantress didn’t flinch. She smiled.

Bob staggered back a step, eyes locked on her, chest heaving like he couldn’t quite breathe. Inside his head, the Void surged awake, not angry, not violent—fascinated.

“She’s like us,” it whispered. “No—she’s better. She was born like this.”

His hands sparked with light, gold bleeding to black, his vision dimming at the edges. The storm within him pulsed, and he reached toward it, toward her, even if his hands never left his sides.

Enchantress turned her head, eyes glowing black. She looked at him and smiled.

Enchantress didn’t speak, but Bob heard her anyway.

“I see you. I see what's inside you. The darkness. Let me taste it.”

And inside him, the Void growled in response.

“Take it. I want to see what you’ll become when you touch me.”

The words weren’t said aloud, but Enchantress heard them. Felt them.

Her smile deepened, slow and sharp, and she tilted her head like a cat watching prey twitch.

“Oh,” she purred, voice a syrupy echo only he could hear, “you’re going to beg for it.”

And Bob, shaking from the inside out, didn’t dare say a word.

Bucky moved, boots crunching over scorched stone and broken machines as the smoke settled. His voice was low, careful. “Bells, come back to me.”

But she didn’t move.

She was still standing in the center of the carnage, still Enchantress, still glowing faintly with that ancient, seductive light. Her eyes, black as ink, weren’t on him—they were still locked on Bob. Fixed. Fascinated. Her mouth was curved, wicked and slow. The runes on her skin pulsed like a heartbeat.

“She doesn’t want to come back,” the Enchantress whispered, gaze still locked on the man who hadn’t moved, who looked like he was barely breathing.

Bucky stepped closer, steadier now. He’d done this before—held her through magic comas, pulled her back from the edge more times than he could count—but this was different.

She’d never resisted.

Not like this.

“Arabella,” he said again, firmer this time, closer now. “It’s me. It’s Bucky. Come on, baby witch. Don’t make me beg.”

The Enchantress tilted her head, almost curious, but didn’t turn. Didn’t flinch. She was too deep in it, too close to something she hadn’t felt before, and Bucky’s chest twisted.

He took another step. “Bells. Come back.”

And then—Bob moved.

One slow, shaking step forward. Not threatening. Not demanding. His voice was rough and low. “Bring her back.”

Her eyes flickered. Just slightly. The light dimmed.

The Enchantress blinked, and for a moment, there was something soft behind her expression—like a memory. Like regret. She looked at Bob as if she were memorizing him, and then she smiled. It was all teeth and hunger and something ancient and beautiful. Her lips parted, breath curling in the air between them.

“Next time, I’ll let you touch me.”

And then she collapsed.

Bucky was already moving, catching her before she hit the floor. Her body went slack in his arms, her head falling against his chest, her breath shallow but steady. He crouched with her, cradling her like he’d done too many times before.

“Bells,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face, “hey, come on—look at me.”

Her eyelids fluttered. A soft groan slipped from her throat. “What… happened?”

“You stopped it,” Bucky murmured, voice rough around the edges. “You brought it down. You did good.” Her lashes trembled, her eyes opening slowly, brown again. Human again. But tired. So tired.

Behind them, Bob stood frozen, hands still trembling at his sides, gold and black flickering faintly beneath his skin. His throat was dry. His pulse too loud. He couldn’t move—not yet. Not when the echo of her magic still clung to the air like perfume and fire, not when her voice—her other voice—still rang like a bell behind his eyes. He could still feel her. Like a storm on the edge of touch.

And then, deep in his mind, the Void stirred.

It didn’t roar. It didn’t rage.

It purred.

“You brought her back. Why?”

A pause. A shiver up his spine.

“I would’ve let her stay. She wanted to stay. She wanted us.”

Bob swallowed, jaw tight.

The Void curled around him like a shadow, low and amused.

“You’re lying to yourself, Robert. You want her too. The way she sees you. The way she smiled.”

Bob clenched his fists. Didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

But he didn’t deny it either.

And the Void laughed—soft and satisfied.

“Next time, you won’t send her away.”

𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐅𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 © 2025. DO NOT STEAL, REPOST, OR COPY THIS STORY TO TUMBLR, WATTPAD, AO3, OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM. Moodboards and graphics made by @houseofaegon DO NOT repost or reuse without credit. chain divider by @cursed-carmine

♱ ˖ ࣪ . taglist: @the-a-word-2214 @favestxrboy @uraesthete @abbysbenchpr @sammystarswrite @pey2618 @qardasngan @lunaoieoie @orithyia-eriphyle @amatiswayland @madzzz6958 @all-by-myself98 @dark-silhouette @ghost-ghost-13 @wyvernthekriger @gayfiretruck @watermeezer @lvmxla @novausstuff @mommymilkers0526 @natureartisian @feralgoblinbabe @misaki-evans @uracowboylikemee @sxlsvv @stillinracooncity @deltamel (if you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know in the comments. love, bri.)

[k4lenz]

i loved you first ✮ chapter 1 - “that’s just the way life goes”

(ted nivison x fem!reader)

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

a/n: i’ve been listening to the song 'i love you, i'm sorry' on repeat, and something hit me really hard about it. so i decided to write an angst fic very much loosely based on the lyrics! childhood best friend!ted that you used to do everything with. i was crashing out hard while writing this, can you tell?? anyway enjoy chapter 1 ahhhhh ALSO I KNOW THIS IS ANGST I SWEAR CHAPTER 2 ITLL GET BETTER IM SORRY but also chapter 2 is gonna be more of this song coded oops. idk if i love this but i hope u guys do :)

playlist: click right here bb

notes: angst, fluff, dating, growing up together, YEARNING, underage drinking, dating, drugs, coming of age, highschool, university, that damn Toyota Tacoma, lunch club + SMPlive mentions, parents mentioned

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

2008. Your parents moved into his hometown in Massachusetts when you were just shy of 10, and became friends with his parents who lived just a few streets away. You shyly greeted him for the first time, and you two just clicked.

You were inseparable from then on, and your parents were so thankful they sent you to the same primary school. And then it continued into middle school, and even highschool. Attached at the hip.

For his 16th birthday, 2014, you bought Ted a polaroid camera. Shabby money you’d gathered up from chores around the house and a job at a cafe. Nonetheless, it still got you the gift. You’d bought him an album for the pictures too, you both signed the back of it. From then on, it was his favourite gift he’d ever gotten. Even if you told him he didn’t have to say that, you’d sparked an interest of photography in him from the beginning.

People, especially your friends, were always suspicious you two were dating. Rather, you’d both always wave it off with a “gross!” and a laugh.

Despite the lingering touches, on your waist, a hand around your shoulders, a jab in your side, a squeeze in your hand, your hand in his hair.

You two were just friends.

✮

Halfway through the winter, the ground icy and snow piling. January 17th, 2015. He was freshly 17, slowly growing out of his boyish features with his very own 2002 Green Toyota Tacoma and a proper license. So proud of himself.

He’d not come to school on the day because he’d had his test (and he hadn’t wanted to waste his birthday-day doing it the day before).

4pm sharp he was out the front of your house, beeping the horn of his newly owned car and a that big childish grin on his face. The look on his face was familiar to you, like home, recognisable throughout the years and never changing.

You ran out the front door giggling, tripping over your own feet in excitement as he got out of his car and came around to open the passenger side door for you. Giving you a little poke before getting back in the car.

“Y’like it?” “I’ll like it more when you drive me to school every morning! “If I have to.” He’d sigh, albeit exaggerated, but secretly his heart would warm. He’d made you take a picture of him with the car, too. And he’d snuck one of you with it when you weren’t looking.

The winter weather slowly faded, preparing itself for the blossoming flowers of Spring.

Valentine’s Day, 2015. He was beeping again out the front of your house, to your parents usual annoyance and a disturbance to your neighbourhood.

But to give him credit, you’d told him to pick you up 5pm because you’d asked him for more time to get ready. And it was 5:05pm.

You came out of your front door with the biggest smile on your face, cheeks tinged pink, tucking your hair behind your ear, as he stood there with one hand behind his back and the other holding the passenger door open for you.

“What’cha got there, Teddy?” You teased, as he handed you the bouquet of roses, proclaiming they were platonic and watching you giggle.

“Thankyou. They’re beautiful.”

You’re beautiful. is what he wanted to say. And they’re not platonic. And I love you and I always have, since the minute I laid eyes on you.

But instead he grabbed his polaroid camera once you’d sat down in the passenger seat, wanting to snap a picture of you holding the flowers. He used the camera to hide the blush on his cheeks.

Click. He was just saying it in his own way.

You two drove down to the lake, sitting in his car eating snacks you’d bought on the way there and laughing about everything and nothing. Just you two against the world.

His eyes glanced at your lips, and then met your eyes again. Your eyes stared through his soul, your lips found his as if that was all they were ever made to do. The night ended in soft whispers, giggles, his hands on your waist and your arms around his neck, lips interlocked as if they could never part again. as if you were each others air.

Quiet promises of relationships. You two never announced it, but you didn’t ever need to, you came into school holding hands and nobody batted an eye. Like it was bound to happen. As if everybody but you two knew and kept the secret to themselves, waiting for you to finally figure it out.

✮

Many nights were spent sneaking into each other’s houses, into each other’s beds, holding each other close. Beds warm with each other, he typically preferred sneaking into your house. Your sheets warmer, fluffier. More you.

You studied together, stayed together, and worked hard for your final moments of highschool.

You couldn’t have done it without him, and he couldn’t have done it without you.

May, or April, 2016. Prom night. You couldn’t quite remember. The memories got fuzzier as time passed, you’d admit. He waited downstairs, talking to your parents in his best suit and tie, the colour matching your own dress as you finally came down the stairs. He was speechless, his eyes simply absorbing you. He had to make sure the flowers in his hand didn’t drop as he handed them to you and your hand found his chest.

“You okay there, Teddy?” You laughed fondly, eyes glittering and amused.

“You’re the most stunning thing I’ve seen in my entire life.” He’d reply, entranced. Your parents shared a look, raising eyebrows to each other knowing he was the right one for you.

Most of your night spent on the dance floor, twirls and dips and laughter. Your friends altogether, but to him it felt like you were the only person in the room, when he dipped you and kissed you to his favourite song. Your friends gagging playfully, saying you two were straight out of a Disney movie.

The night held a party after with everyone in your year, at some guy’s house you hardly remember. The taste of alcohol on your lips, and Ted’s, you recalled. Snapping drunk Polaroid pictures and singing (screaming) the most popular music like you’d never hear it again.

June 16th, 2016. You wore your graduation caps and robes. He picked you up at 9am, the ceremony started at 11.

He knocked on the door, hair styled, glasses on, robes on, and his graduate cap. Greeting your parents with warm smiles, hugs, and congratulations at your front door as you told them you’d go with Ted and meet them there. It felt like home. He felt like home.

Your parents snapping a picture of you two walking down the driveway hand in hand and sending it to his parents. That picture was your lock screen on your phone for a good long while.

That same stupid damn truck waiting for you in the driveway.

“You look incredible.” He murmured in your ear, voice as sweet as honey, pulling you in for a kiss as soon as he’d opened the door for you to get in the car. You were sure your parents were still watching, but you kissed him back anyway. “You’re not too bad yourself, handsome.”

You sat at the spot near the lake in the car again, for that extra hour you had. You weren’t too heavy hearted, not at all, because you’d both gotten accepted into Ithaca College in New York. Even though everything would be changing, you would have everything changing together. You’d even found a sweet little apartment together, close by to campus. You’d gotten a job at a café down the road, and he was doing editing on YouTube.

You were reminiscing on your best memories of Massachusetts. Of how you met. Of school.

You two against the world.

You and your family cheered loud when your boyfriend got up on the podium and accepted his certificate, your parents sitting right next to his, and you still waiting in line.

His eyes first found his parents, your parents, and then you.

It was always you.

Him and his family cheered loud when you got your own certificate. He was already lined up with the rest of the fellow graduates, holding up his certificate. But he was simply entranced by your wide smile and laughter.

Your eyes first found your parents, his parents, and then him.

It was always him.

Always each other.

You went to a party, laughing getting drunk with your friends. Celebrating what you’d call freedom. Hand in hand. You’d stumbled back into his house, which was now allowed according to your parents and his, because you were both 18.

The next day you were hungover, eyes dreary and heavy with a bit too much alcohol. Regret, pancakes, and those prized hours of sleep.

The day after you were ready. That dumb Toyota Tacoma once again sitting in your driveway at around Midday. Ready for you two to make the trip to Ithaca. The sweltering heat of the start of summer coming down on you two in heavy rays.

Loading your boxes into the car, your parents and his parents chatting in your house. Playfully nudging him while you two walked down the driveway, he gasped.

“Oh, so you want me to drop your precious valuables?”

“No!” You’d squeal, as he set another box down in his boot and lift you up to spin you around. The joy in the air undeniable. Independence and your very own space to yourselves, together.

Everything together. Not a statement, but a promise.

Soft goodbyes to parents, long hugs and promises to call, tears pairing with the new feeling of independence. You felt upset, but also happy. Happy you had set life plans, that you’d graduated and now knew what you were doing, alongside the love of your life.

Ted would always be the love of your life. You were so sure of it at the time.

Endless chatter filled the car as you two drove to Ithaca. He’d insisted on driving, teasing you that you’d crash his car when you’d told him to take a break and let you drive. A few pit stops and many cans is sods and bags of chips later, you were in Ithaca and loading your boxes into your dorm.

Sharing looks at the state of said dorm, but embracing it as your new home anyway. You’d make it your own.

✮

College was hard, but you made time. You were both doing your degrees that went for the same length, and yet you still found time for each other. You always would.

It wasn’t hard to find friends, and considering you and Ted were always attached, you fit in well to a friend group together. Days had studies or work, smoking weed and drinking and parties were what weekend nights held. Kisses and shotgunning, and so much more. Your parents would kill you and his parents would kill him if they knew, but hey, that’s the fun of college.

You watched him start off his YouTube career properly in 2017, as a part time kind of thing. You encouraged him, even, sometimes appearing in the back of his videos. In 2019, sometimes you’d be in a Lunch Club video or two, simply as ‘Ted’s Cool Girlfriend’, and you’d play on his account on SMPLive. You met all of his other friends, and familiarised yourself in his world as the end of your degrees neared.

And yes, you were the girlfriend, with your dad in town, that he had to cancel on when he went to a misfits party during the day, because he did indeed have a 400mg edible. His friends continuously sending you videos of him stuck on the couch, questioning his entire life choices, chugging water for his cottonmouth. Shaking, while narrating the whole situation like it was a storybook. Trying to tough it out. You still have the video on your phone of Schlatt putting a handheld massager on your boyfriend who looks half dead. You’d also made his friends use that old Polaroid camera to take a picture, knowing he’d want to look back at it and laugh.

You’d lied through your teeth to your dad, still laughing at the videos, which hadn’t helped anyway because about a month later Ted posted a video on it anyway. He most definitely got reprimanded by his parents and your own.

✮

As the end of college edged closer, nights were spent studying, or in the library together. Comfortable silences, with the occasional jab or joke. It was all so perfect.

And yet, it almost felt like for once in the last 12 years, you two were living separate lives. Not simply attached at the hip anymore, you two were so different.

You were close, always, but something felt off.

✮

Before you two had began college together, you’d sat in the back of his Toyota Tacoma down at the lake, laying on pillows wrapped up in blankets staring at the stars. A few weeks before highschool graduation.

“We should travel the world together, Teddy. Go see everything amazing out there. You could make a short film of it, or something. Travels with Ted.”

His eyes lit up, the prospect of it making him yearn for the future.

“That’s a stupid name.” He teased. “But I like that.”

You giggled, playfully hitting his chest. “I’m being serious!”

“As am I, that’s a stupid name. And I want to travel with you.” His lips found yours, he kissed you softly, carefully. To show he meant it. “We can start saving.”

✮

And you did start saving, you both were still saving.

And yet you hadn’t talked about it since at least 2018, hadn’t had time to even think about it. Far too busy with the whirlwinds of the world of New York City and College.

You sat on the couch, May 3rd 2020, exactly one month before your graduation.

He sat on the floor while you sat on the couch, his head between your legs facing away while you two watched a movie. His hands on your legs, your hands in his hair. But something felt distant, you felt distant.

You were lost in your thoughts, anxiety creeping up in your gut. Crawling through your body, seeping into your head. You watched his head move to look back at you, and you blinked.

“Are you okay, honey?” He murmured, those big brown eyes finding yours, his voice soothing but ringing through your ears.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. Why?” You managed to stammer out, tone laced with nervousness. You were never good at lying.

“I said somethin’ about the movie and you didn’t reply.” His eyes narrowed, concerned. It was then he noticed your laboured breath, and the rhythmic tapping of your foot against the floor beside him. He reached for the remote to pause the film, and sat beside you on the couch. His hand finding yours, and his shoulder touching yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The words made your throat feel heavy, your lips parting to speak but nothing coming out. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

I do. The thought rattled in your brain, as you built the courage to speak.

“I do.” You could hear that your own voice was shaky. You swallowed hard. “I was just, thinking.. um..”

“That’s rare.” He teased quietly, holding your hand. You laughed quietly, shaking your head.

His joke brought just that little bit of relief, if only for a brief moment. You found your voice.

“I was thinking about our future.” You paused for a moment.

“I was thinking about us.”

You saw his eyes process the statement that was more of a question, with a blink. A thousand unspoken words on his tongue, and your own too.

Are you still coming with me? Is what you were asking. Are we still going to travel together like we always said we would?

He hesitated, and you knew. A little part of you just knew.

“Everything is going really well for me, here.” He almost sounded shameful. His eyes unable to find yours, you knew they were filled with guilt and empty promises.

You hesitated, this time.

“I don’t want to stay.” You were breathless as the words tumbled out of your mouth.

And at that moment, for the first time, you felt worlds apart. His hand on yours felt distant, nothing else in the room but just.. you. You and your own thoughts.

The words had triggered an argument, tears, a fight or flight response. You slept at your friends dorm that night, yet you’d hardly slept at all.

You came back to open arms the next morning, whispered apologies, flowers and pancakes. And the salty taste of tears.

But it felt over. A certain sinking feeling in your gut, eating you up. You knew he felt it too.

Your greatest fear was right there in front of you. Making your hands shake and your knees weak. You and your other half.

You two were finally growing apart.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

[thxtmarvelchick]

JJ Valentine’s Fic Recs

in honour of Valentine’s Day (weekend bc i’m posting this late), here are my favourite fics of JJ Maybank that made the holiday a little less depressing <3 (this was originally supposed to be all obx characters but i got carried away but trust i have SO MANY MORE for the rest of the pogues (and more jj) so i’ll do a part 2 eventually)

only got the courage to post this because of @tinypinkrobot so this is for them <3

most if not all fics are x fem!reader and some are 18+ (therefore i would prefer minors not to interact with this post but i do not have the time nor the energy to check everyone’s acc), the authors are NOT responsible for your internet consumption (nor am i); be responsible, pay attention, and respect the authors boundaries! (all 18+ fics will be labelled! MINORS DNI)

Outerbanks

JJ Maybank

full length fics+series

His To Keep by @pankowperfection (18+)

smut, kinda dark JJ, oral (f receiving), branding

i first read this fic almost three months ago and i still think about it all the time (i have the link in my notes app im not kidding), this author is so talented go read all their fics tbh they kill it everytime, i go to their account and reread everything all the time

summer lovin’ by @murdockcastleslut (18+ blog)

ongoing series, kook!jj, pogue!reader, if jj was raised by larissa, rafe and reader have some history

look… i will eat up every kook!jj fic that is thrown my way. the way the author writes jj and the interactions between him and reader😩, the plot is so intriguing and im always so excited for every new chapter. ALSO reader is SO jj’s girl like he is so down bad, expect cute petnames (HE CALLS HER PRINCESS ICANYSIAKSKSOSIJWIDISJSKS and then he pulled out a “my darling angel” once and im pretty sure i passed out). honestly go read all of her works bc holy shit every single one of them is fantastic.

teach me please by @mrsriddlenott (18+)

smut, bsf!jj, innocent!reader, oral (m&f receiving), reader overhears someone talking badly ab them (indirect bullying), use of good girl🤭

this is another one i’ve had in my notes app since it was posted, since then the author has written a part two and both parts are so incredibly written. their dynamic and the way you can TELL they’ve been wanting each other for so long is EVERYTHING

love on the island by @papercranesandinkstains

ongoing series, love island!au

if you follow me and pay attention to my reposts you knew this was coming… i have said it once and will say it again this is my favourite SMAU (tied with rhythm&revelry) i’ve ever read and it’s not even finished yet. the amount of time and effort put into this fic truly pays off because WOW. the graphics are beautiful. interactive polls. BANTER. jj is fumbling over himself he is so into reader😭enough said go read it.

Rhythm & Revelry by @darlingchronicles

ongoing series, university au, SMAU

the creativity is simply insane, i can’t even imagine how long it takes the author to do these chapters because she’s truly created a whole world to the point where sometimes i forget it’s not actually an app and is actually a fanfic. the relationships between characters is so beautifully developed and it’s not all romance. you get really amazing insights into the friendships between the reader (nicknamed blue) and sarah, cleo and pope. honestly i can’t even explain in words how much i love this fic. definitely a comfort fic (and i LOVE making up theories in my head as to what happened in the past iykyk). this is a long one so great for passing time (or if you’re me, ignoring your responsibilities and binging the whole thing bc you’re simply too hooked)

Kildare University by @papercranesandinkstains

completed series, two different endings (JJ or Rafe endgame depending on your preference), university au, jj plays football, reader is in band, rafe is readers ex, SMAU

ok i couldn’t just put ONE of her fanfics on here let’s be real everything this author writes turns to gold. immaculate build up, amazing chemistry, the way you can choose who reader ends up with is everything to me bc i might’ve curled up in a ball and died if i didn’t see a jj endgame. BUT everyone can be happy (ADDITIONALLY if you’re a jj AND rafe person you get double chapters sooooo what’s not to love)

narcotic by @thebestjjenthusiast

completed series, SMAU, bsf!jj

you can tell the author has an elite sense of humor bc they have me cackling at 3am. also JJ is DOWN BAD for reader it’s so funny, like expect CONSTANT flirting… this man is practically begging reader to get with him and reader is OBLIVIOUS😭, the flirting has me blushing so hard i have to pause reading sometimes just to giggle into my pillow AND the ending is perfect

summer was my first love by @vampiriito (18+) pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6

ongoing series, shy! reader, reader has social anxiety, READER WEARS GLASSES (glasses girls rise), reader has secretly had a crush on jj for like ever but he’s always been “out of her reach”… or so she thought

the build-up. readers characterization and the depiction of her social anxiety are everything to me. jj is so soft for her and he doesn’t even fully know it or understand why at first. i’ve cried multiple times reading this series AND NOT EVEN BC ITS SAD just because i feel so seen and represented. this author genuinely writes so well i cannot wait for the next part🥹

Biker!JJ Oneshot by @highpope

biker!jj, motorbike stunt

this had me blushing and giggling i’m not kidding. jj is so soft with reader and reassures her when she gets scared. when he called her pretty girl i think i passed out. the flirting in this makes me flustered no matter how many times i read it😭

First Date Oneshot by @jjsloverre

bsf!jj, sweetheart!reader, fluff, mentions of sex but no smut

the dynamic between bsf!jj and sweetheart!reader is one of my favourites. they are honestly everything to me. he’s so sweet and caring towards her (but expect innuendos and cursing bc it’s jj we all know he can’t help it). additionally you have to check out their other bsf!jj and sweetheart!reader fics too!!!

Gossip Girl by @maybejj (18+)

ongoing series, SMAU, pay attention to the trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter

DRAMAAAAAAAAAA. the plot will grasp your attention and not let go and next thing you know it’s 5am and you have class in 3 hours (not at all speaking from experience that’d be crazyyyy id never do that…🥲). JJ LOVES reader and would probably kill for them. readers friendship with kie, sarah and cleo is EVERYTHING, they are truly readers ride or dies.

secret admirer by @voidangxls

part two

kook!reader, pure fluff, jj is DOWN BAD, part of a valentines special

hands down THE CUTEST thing i’ve ever read on this app. jj gets teased by the pogues for not being able to talk to reader😭 the dual pov makes it so interesting bc you can see how in love jj is and wonder how the hell reader hasn’t noticed him staring them down 24/7😭😭 will be rereading everyday.

-blurbs/drabbles/texts (not gonna make notes on these ones but know i have every single one in my notes app and reread them CONSTANTLY, these authors are so incredibly talented <3)

Boy in Love by @everydaydreamer (18+ blog)

pure fluff, valentines blurb

texts with jj by @lillymmb

boyfriend!jj, fluff, jj LOVES reader

breeding kink concept by @moremaybank (18+)

implied but no smut, breeding kink (duh😭)

black cat!reader by @ervotica (18+)

black cat!reader, use of daddy, once again jj LOVES reader, reader is grumpy

texts with jj and desi!reader by @deadpcnned

desi!reader, jj in a kurta😩, established relationship, i just love this

boyfriend!jj by @lovelyjj

“wear whatever you want i can fight”😩, jj can throw a punch, fluff fluff fluff

passenger princess by @rubiehart (18+)

jj being fine, groping, use of “my girl”🤭

valentine’s day with jj by @seasprincess

established relationship, jj saves up to buy reader gifts, pure fluff

[jhyoos]

Dreams Come True

Chapter 4: Give Your Heart A Break

summary : vi and (y/n) reconnect and give each other a second chance.

mentions : smut, strap on, fingering, switch, multiple orgasms, oral sex, nipple play, whatever else I left out!

notes: i am blessed to collab with one of my closest moots @athena-winters13! she wrote this beautiful smut 😫 (cause im horrible at it.) im forever grateful for her taking the time to do this for me. please check out her work on ao3. here are some of my personal favorites:

undercover and under the covers - sevika

sevika baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight - sevika

red rooms and tie-ups - sevika & ambessa

go check her out!

The drive back to Vi’s place was full of sexually charged tension. There was only silence and the sound of the road, no words were exchanged because the both of you knew what would happen when you got there. You were excited, no doubt, but there was a part of you that couldn’t quite get past all the terrible things Vi had said to you before.

As you finally make it back to her place, she opens the door for you, smiling as you walk through. Vi follows behind closely, shutting the door and locking it before turning to face you.

She steps forward, placing a hand on the back of your neck to bring you closer, but you briefly stop her, “Vi wait- I- I need you to tell me something. All those things you said before, did you mean them? I mean, there had to be some truth to what you said.” You search her eyes for any indication that you were right, but you don’t find it. Instead, her soft eyes look full of pain and hurt.

Vi shakes her head, cupping both of your cheeks and forces you to look her in the eyes. “I didn’t mean any of it. I knew you wouldn’t stay away unless I hit you where it really hurt. I- it was fucked up I know it baby, but I used what you were going through against you so you would be sure to stay away. I’m so sorry. I want t- I will make it up to you, I promise. If you let me.” Vi’s eyes flit back and forth between your eyes and lips.

You let out a deep breath, one you didn’t know you were holding, and pull her into a tight hug. You breathe in the smell of Vi that you had been missing for what feels like forever. It would take a lot for her to make up for her cruel words, but this didn’t seem like a bad start, not in your drunken state.

When you’re satisfied with the hug, you pull back, stepping a few feet away from Vi as she just watches patiently. “Alright, show me how sorry you are.” You brush your honey-blonde hair over your shoulders and stand in the middle of the living room, waiting for Vi to respond.

Vi’s eyes seem to darken, a wide grin covering her face, “yes, yes to that.” She’s on you in a second, bending slightly to grasp the backs of your thighs and hoist you up, carrying you back to the bedroom and ever-so-gently placing you on the bed.

It’s a process to get you out of your dress, but Vi is patient, not rushing or breaking anything even though you can tell she’s pent up. Once you’re left in your bra and panties you surge forward, pulling at Vi’s shirt after she removes her jacket. She chuckles, “eager?”

You don’t bother answering, instead, you let your actions speak and yank upward to remove her shirt fully. You attempt to start at her jeans, but she just pushes you onto your back, climbing on top of you. She kisses you with a desperate intensity, making you moan into her mouth and do your best to keep up with the kiss, after all you were desperate too.

It had been quite a while since you trusted someone to get you vulnerable like this, but even after the bad things Vi said in the past, you still trusted her with your body. She knew how to take care of you and your needs. “Vi,” you pull back from the kiss and grab her hand, guiding it to your breast, “show me.” You urge her again, the alcohol giving you enough confidence to boss her around, though you suppose you deserve it after how cruel she was when she left you.

Vi bites her lip, reaching around to remove your bra and cups both of your breasts before giving them a squeeze. You sigh out breathily and her eyes darken still, “sorry baby, you’re just so pretty it distracts me. I really am so sorry. I thought about you every day, no one could ever compare to how you make me feel, you complete me, pretty girl.”

She bends down, pulling your nipple into her soft mouth. You arch into the stimulation, grabbing the back of her head to keep her in place. When you accidentally tug her red locks too hard she bites your nipple in retaliation and you moan loudly, but refuse to give up your hold.

She doesn’t say anything but she moves to your other nipple, kissing across your sternum as she goes. Her touch is gentle, yet charged and you can tell she’s holding back, but you don’t want that right now. “Vi, you’re holding back.” You gasp out as she bites your other nipple now.

Vi brings her head up to look at you, a guilty smile on her face, “I just missed you so much, I don’t want to hurt you again.” Her hands move to your hips, thumbs tracing patterns as she waits for you to speak.

“You can be rough, you’re not going to break me honey. I missed you too and I definitely missed doing this.” You offer, watching her face light up with the permission you just gave her.

It seems that’s what she was waiting for, removing your panties in mere seconds and falling down on her stomach to bury her face between your thighs. The way she runs her tongue through your folds makes you arch, attempting to get closer to her insanely warm, wet mouth.

She holds your hips down with her hands, digging in when you arch too much, but quite frankly you can’t help it. She knows your body and just what to do, it seems not even time could change that. Although you know it’ll only make you hotter, you sit up on your elbows to watch her while she licks into you. You whine, making eye contact with Vi as she draws your clit into her mouth and sucks lightly. You can feel just how wet she’s making you, each suck has that feeling in your lower abdomen becoming more unbearable by the second and you drop back down onto your back, moaning her name.

It only spurs her on more and you feel one of her hands release your hip to find your entrance, two fingers circling there, silently asking for permission. “Please Vi, I need you.” You whine, pushing down to try and take her fingers in.

It doesn’t take any convincing and Vi groans against your clit as she pushes her fingers into you. The stretch takes a few seconds to get used to, it has been a while after all, but you adjust quickly because she was made for you and those fingers fit perfectly. She pulls them out, only to push them right back in and curl up toward that spongy spot inside you, all while keeping her mouth moving to suck and lick at your swollen clit.

You throw an arm over your eyes, doing your best to keep your hips still, but it was so damn hard when she seemed to hit every pleasure sensor in your body. Her other hand came up, playing with your nipple and matching each pinch to a suck on your clit and curl of her fingers. She was going to get you there a lot faster than you had thought, “Vi, you’re gonna make me-” you break off into a long moan, throwing your head back and curling your toes against the mattress.

You can feel Vi nod her head against your cunt, encouraging you to do just that, not like you had much choice anyway when that coil in your belly was threatening to snap any second. Each time you clench around her fingers, a jolt of pleasure shoots to your clit and then she pinches your nipple, only furthering the absolute rapture she was giving your body.

You’ve broken out into a sweat now, squirming against the sheets and body becoming engulfed in the flames of your lust. You grab the back of Vi’s head, taking a handful of her hair and forcing her mouth to stay directly on your clit. She grunts in warning, but you don’t even register it, moaning and whimpering with each suck, only pulling her hair harder. And then she perfectly times her mouth, fingers and hand on your breast one last time, sending you into the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had.

Your thighs clamp around her head and tremble as she continues on even after you’ve cum. It takes a forceful tug on her hair to get her off of you and you look down to see her chin covered in your arousal, which only sends another pang of want to your stomach. “You’re not done are you, cupcake?” Vi purrs, slowly removing her fingers from you and sticking them in her mouth to lick them clean, groaning at your taste.

You shake your head quickly, pulling Vi down for another heated kiss. You shove your tongue into her mouth and she matches you, running her tongue over yours and groans at the way you hold her closer still when she sucks on your tongue. “Can I-” you pause to suck in a deep breath, the kiss stealing your oxygen, “can I be on top?” Vi gives you a curious look, brows pinching together in confusion.

You smile shyly at her, pushing back on her shoulders and standing from the bed on weak legs to look through the nightstand drawers. Even though you hadn’t been in her room for over a year, not much had changed and the strap she always used on you was still in its place, untouched. You grab the harness and toy, holding it up while biting your lip. She chuckles, leaning back against the pillows, “I get it now baby, of course.” She pats her thigh, beckoning you over but you don’t budge.

You stay where you are, standing at the side of the bed, “I want you naked. It’s been so long Vi. I need to see all of you, please, I need to feel your skin on mine. I've missed it every day.” You whine, hoping your eyes show the desperation you were feeling. It seems you’ve made your point and you watch Vi eagerly remove the rest of her clothing, throwing it haphazardly to the floor.

Only when she’s fully naked do you climb on the bed, crawling over to her and handing her the items. She moves slowly pulling the harness on, making eye contact with you as she goes. You can’t help but subtly move your thighs together, running your hands up and down her strong legs and doing your best to remain patient.

Your body was all hers tonight and you felt light, the weight of over a year of bad feelings coming to a close. Once the dildo is situated in the ring of the harness you climb on her lap and grab her face with both hands, kissing her deeply. She lets you lead the pace, deepening the kiss but not moving at a frantic pace- you want to savor it. “I love you, Vi.” You whisper against her lips, forehead resting against hers.

She gives you a big, goofy grin and kisses the tip of your nose. “I love you. I never stopped loving you.” Her hands find your hips and she guides you down, looking at you so gently yet so full of hunger.

You keep one hand on her sturdy shoulder, taking your other to hold the toy and help line it up with your entrance. Your eyelids flutter shut, the stretch threatening to render your legs useless as pleasure clouds all of your senses. Vi rubs soothing circles into your hips as you fully take in the length and adjust to it. When you finally open your eyes, you find her already looking at you with something akin to pride, “my pretty girl, you’re so good at taking me in like that.” The words drip past her lips, tone rough from arousal.

It makes your hips jerk forward, moving the toy inside of you and forcing a pitiful whine out of your lips. This time, both hands find her strong shoulders and you slowly rise up, feeling the drag of silicone against your walls. It’s a delicious friction and before long a sloppy sound fills the room, making your face heat up in a mixture of satisfaction and embarrassment.

“Violet,” you mewl, fingers digging into the exposed flesh on her shoulders, “please, you feel so good.” You pick up your pace a bit, rising back up quicker and dropping back down to take in the full length of the toy before grinding forward a bit to really feel every last inch.

Vi moves her hands from your hips to your breasts, groping them and squeezing every time you rock forward. “You needed this? Only I can please you like this, isn’t that right baby?” She almost growls the words, voice thick and gruff as her eyes find their way between your legs to watch how the length of the toy is coated in your slick.

You can only nod your head, your hands falling down her shoulders to her chest in order to knead her supple breasts. She was making you feel so good, you wanted to provide her some relief too. Her head drops, clunking against the headboard and she groans out, rich and throaty.

You smile in between soft moans, continuing to pinch and play with her nipples because you knew that got her going. Vi’s hands drop back to your hips and she plants her feet on the bed to start thrusting up into you. Her thrusts jostle you around and make it hard for you to keep your rhythm, your hands dropping to the bed to fist the sheets.

That coil is winding tightly in your stomach again and all you can do is whine and whimper as you dig your nails into the blanket. Vi’s eyes flit back and forth between your wet cunt and your bouncing breasts, “do it baby, I know you want to cum, go ahead.” She grits out, pouding into you from below.

You remove one hand, nimble fingers finding your swollen clit with ease and rubbing like your life depends on it. You become stuck in a chant, your brain only aware of two words in your current state, “yesyesyesyes Viiiii,” you break off, your breath stolen by your intense orgasm and you crumple forward into her bare chest.

Her hands immediately encircle your shoulders and she rubs your back until your breathing gets under control. You sleepily look up at her, kissing her jaw and resting your head in the crook of her neck.

She almost lulls you to sleep, but your hips move a bit and Vi groans underneath you, the harness pressing against her clit. That sound alone reinvigorates you enough to do one last thing. You rise up on your knees, removing the strap from you and lay down with a huff on the mattress. “I’d like to please you too, honey.” Your voice is a bit rough from being overused, but it has the same effect and she begins removing the harness quickly, discarding it on the floor.

Vi gives you a shy smile, she always did feel a bit bad when you offered to return the favor as she wasn’t used to it. Still, she felt comfortable and safe with you, enough that you watched as she spread her legs open for you, allowing enough room for your lithe body to fit in between. You pull your long hair back into a ponytail, laying down flat on your stomach between her spread thighs. Her breaths came faster when you began placing open mouthed kisses on her thighs, inching closer and closer to that red patch of hair and the prize underneath.

You’d missed this as well, how Vi would never rush you even when you knew she was needy because she liked how tenderly you kissed her before you went down on her. You only have so much patience yourself though and bring both thumbs to her lips, opening her up so you can stick your tongue out flat and run it from entrance to puffy clit. She groans on your first pass, allowing her head to fall back and shutting her eyes to savor the feeling. You move slowly, cherishing every second you had down here.

You move your tongue from entrance to clit over and over, waiting for the sign that she needed more. It comes in the form of a calloused hand grabbing your ponytail, forcing your face closer. Vi’s moans and quiet grunts come more frequently as she guides you and you simply allow it. You moan into her soaked folds, lips wrapping prettily around her clit and sucking softly because that was how she liked it. “I need you, need you so fucking much baby. I’m so fucking sorry, I’ll make it up to you fore-” she groans deeply when you moan into her clit, sending the vibrations directly to that sensitive bundle, “-ver.”

You nod your head as much as you can with her tight grip, hands squeezing her thick thighs as you need something to help you ground yourself. You can feel her slick against your chin and you push your face just a tiny bit more into her when her hips start to stutter and tremble.

She’s not far off, her moans becoming breathier and her grip in your hair bordering on painful. Just a few more suckles on her clit send her plummeting off that ledge, her muscular legs locking up around your head, forcing you to remain in place against her. After a few seconds she reopens her legs and lets go of you, allowing you to rest your head on the inside of her thigh. “Should I run us a bath?”

You giggle, sitting up to smile at her and place a tender kiss on her toned stomach before you lay on her chest for a few quick snuggles.

The soft warmth of the sun slowly coaxed you awake, its golden rays streaming through the half-drawn curtains of Vi's bedroom. You groaned quietly, squinting against the light as you stirred, feeling a comforting weight draped over your waist. It took a moment for the fog of sleep to lift, but when it did, you realized where you were—and who you were with.

Turning your head slightly, you saw Vi lying beside you, her face serene in the morning light. Her messy pink hair splayed across the pillow, some strands sticking to her forehead, and her lips were parted just slightly as she breathed softly in her sleep. Her arm was wrapped securely around you, as though she was afraid you’d disappear if she let go.

Your heart ached at the sight. She looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, and you couldn’t stop the soft smile that curved your lips. The familiarity of her scent, the warmth of her body pressed against yours, the steady rhythm of her breathing—it was everything you’d missed.

Unable to help yourself, you shifted closer to her, resting your head against her chest. Her heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, and you closed your eyes, savoring the moment. It felt like time had frozen, like the world beyond this room didn’t exist, and for a brief, precious moment, everything was perfect.

But then, you felt her arm tighten around you. Your eyes snapped open, your body tensing slightly as you realized she was awake.

“Morning,” Vi murmured, her voice low and husky from sleep. Her eyes were still closed, but the small, lazy smile tugging at her lips gave her away.

“Morning,” you replied softly, your voice barely audible.

She pulled you closer, burying her face in your hair and pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Missed this,” she whispered, her breath warm against your skin.

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Me too,” you admitted, your voice cracking just slightly.

For what felt like an eternity, the two of you stayed there, wrapped up in each other. Vi’s fingers began tracing soft patterns on your back, her touch light and soothing, and you felt yourself relaxing against her. She tilted her head, her lips brushing against your forehead again as if she couldn’t get enough of you.

“I love you,” she finally said, her voice firm yet tender. The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning and emotion.

Your breath hitched, and you tilted your head to look at her. Her eyes were open now, the vivid blue of her irises locked onto yours. You saw the vulnerability there, the raw honesty, and it made your heart ache. Last night wasn’t a dream.

“I love you too, Vi,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I always will.”

Relief washed over her features, and she leaned in to kiss you. It wasn’t hurried or desperate; it was slow, deliberate, and filled with all the love and longing she hadn’t been able to express. Her hands cupped your face, her thumbs brushing over your cheeks as she deepened the kiss, and you melted into her, your hands finding their way to her hair.

Minutes passed in a blissful haze, and when you finally pulled back for air, Vi pressed her forehead against yours, a soft grin tugging at her lips.

“Guess we’ve got a lot to make up for,” she teased gently, her voice tinged with emotion.

You laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Yeah, we do.”

The tranquility of the moment was interrupted by a soft buzzing sound. You frowned, glancing toward the nightstand where your phone was charging. Reaching over, you grabbed it and saw the time. Your heart dropped.

“Crap,” you muttered, sitting up abruptly.

Vi propped herself up on one elbow, her brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“I have dance practice in twenty minutes,” you groaned, scrambling to find your clothes.

Vi flopped back onto the bed with an exaggerated groan, throwing an arm over her eyes. “Practice can wait,” she drawled, reaching out to grab your wrist and gently tug you back toward the bed.

You laughed, dodging her attempts to pull you back down. “You’re not the one who has to deal with my manager,” you teased, quickly slipping into your clothes.

She pouted, sitting up as she watched you get ready. “Fine, but you’re coming back later, right?”

Pausing, you turned to look at her. She sat on the edge of the bed now, her hair messy, her t-shirt rumpled, and her eyes still half-lidded with sleep. She looked so beautiful it hurt.

“Yeah,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll come back.”

Her grin was lopsided and filled with so much love that it made your heart skip a beat. She leaned forward, pulling you into one last kiss before letting you go.

With one final glance back, you grabbed your things and headed out, already counting down the hours until you could be back in her arms again.

psa : i have not proof read any of my part 🧍🏾‍♀️

chapters: one, two, christmas special, three, four , five

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Singer!Fem Reader

Summary: Venus goes on live after rehearsal and lets her fans take a glimpse into what her and Joe's nights together are like.

Chapter 24: Mr. Perfect

#Track9 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

TW: implied smut, language, haters.

WC: about 2k

Part 1 🖤

₊˚ପ ⊹ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ꕥ

@musicbyvenus has started an Instagram Live! Come join!

“Hello, all you beautiful people. How are my babes doing tonight? I haven’t done this in a hot minute, so be patient with me. I had a really long day and thought the best way to unwind would be for me to unload onto my darling fans.” The woman chuckled to herself while watching the viewer count grow by hundreds per minute.

Tell us all about your day bestie!

How are rehearsals going?

Are you gonna release the set list yet?

How’s Joe doing?

Where’s Joe?!?

“Wow these are coming in fast. I’m going to try and answer as many of your questions as possible, but thank you guys for just being here with me. I know I tend to go a bit awol with my public appearances, so I appreciate everyone here. Rehearsals are going great, I’m very happy with how the show is looking.”

 @MarsOfficial Im expecting a least two Hamilton songs while I’m in attendance 

“You always expect so much of me; you’re starting to sound like my mother, Y/Bff.”

@MarsOfficial then maybe you should start listening to me

A light-hearted giggle makes its way into the air as she reads her best friend’s comment. “I always listen to you!”

@MarsOfficial fat liesssss

“Y'all listen; the only reason I am in a relationship right now is because Y/Bff and Riana, two of my best friends, literally pushed us together. None of this would’ve happened without them.”

“What wouldn’t have happened without who?” A deep voice coming from behind her says.

OMG ITS JOEY

Joe said shit i have to work lol

PLEASE ASK HIM TO STAY

ON GOD HES SO HOT

I DON'T KNOW WHY I expected him to walk in shirtless, but I’m kinda disappointed 

IS HE COMING TO THE LA SHOW???

“I was talking about how we got together.” Y/n peaks behind herself to watch the quarterback snicker while fishing through their kitchen cabinets.

“Oh you mean when your friends pretended to be my ex to make you jealous? Yea they were a great help.” Joe rolled his eyes while grabbing a snack and a bottle of water. “I’ll have you know, I was fully capable of doing that on my own.”

@Riri.intl24 why is he lying, he had almost two years to make a move and DIDNT

“Riana begs to differ. Can you grab me-“ Y/n’s cut off by her own water and snack being dangled in front of her. “Thank you.”

WHAT A GENTLEMAN 

UGH I WANT ONE

IS THAT A CLIFF BAR

Y/n we’re judging you so hard right now

Joe takes a seat next to her but slightly out of camera. “Of course, and tell Riana I was trying to time it right.”

“Ok Mr. Time-Is-Of-The-Essence.” She smirked, then turned back to her phone. “Why are you people roasting my cliff bar?”

@MarsOfficial because you once said it tasted like good dirt then proceeded to inhale one

“I’m going to ignore that. Let’s answer some questions! Yes, Joey’s going to be at the LA show. I am not releasing the set list, but I do have an announcement regarding it. I’ve decided that my show will be about 2 hours long and each show will have 3-4 different surprise songs. I’m very excited about that. If yall have been keeping up on X, then you’d know the first show’s theme is ‘Slumber Party’. Unfortunately I can’t kick anyone out if they don’t dress up-“

ARE YOU ACTUALLY GOING TO PERFORM HAMILTON SONGS?

Is Walk Like This on the Set List

“Fantastic.”

THE NERVE

“You are not anyone, you have to dress up.” She pointed at the man.

YESSS SIS

You should bring him on stage with you!

WALK HIM LIKE A DOG

Joey shook his head and sighed, “I was joking babe, kinda.”

“Uh huh sureeee. Whoever asked about Walk Like This, this answer is 100%. I absolutely love that song and the choreo, ugh amazing. I can’t wait to perform it.”

What song is Joe most excited for?

What songs will you absolutely NOT be singing?

Is ‘The One’ on the no list?

“I don’t even have to ask him which one he wants to see the most. Joey?”

“Crazy for You.” He smiled.

“See, he’s extremely predictable.”

scripted

“Ok hold on, I also like what you did with Tell Me You Love Me.” He so kindly added.

“Why thank you kind sir.”

@lahjay10_ gross

We love a supportive boyfriend 

Husband Material

Get married please

ADOPT ME

Not all of Team Shiesty being in the comments

It's in their dating contract

“Yall are too funny.” Y/n looks over at Joe to see him with his head thrown back laughing. “What is it?”

“Your accent.” He coughed out.

“Joey, I don't have an accent.” She pouts.

Nahhh we know a southern belle when we hear one

Someone forgot she’s from Georgia

You’d think it’d get weaker the longer she stays up north

orrrr maybe she still has it because she doesn't actually live in Ohio

“Yes you do, but don’t worry I think it’s absolutely adorable.”

“I can’t with you.” She rolled her eyes, but the smile spreading across her cheeks told him otherwise.

@MarsOfficial I KNEW IT 

@MarsOfficial I knew he had a thing for your country shit

“Aight, we are getting off task! Is there a No list? Technically yes, but no ‘The One’ is not on it. And before any of you start, Joseph, please tell the people how you feel about ‘The One’ once and for all.” Y/n turns the phone so the fans have a full picture of him.

“I feel like people have been waiting and praying for this moment.” He chuckles brushing his fingers through his hair. 

CAUSE WE HAVEEEEE

TELL USSSS

WE NEED TO KNOW

He raises his right hand. “Ok, everyone listening. I, Joe Burrow of the Cincinnati Bengals.” 

“Oh my god.”

“I’m trying to deliver an address here, princess.” He said sternly. She pretended to zip her mouth shut and throw away the key.

Stop making me feel singleeee

“Ok where were we, right. I, Joe Burrow of the Cincinnati Bengals, solemnly swear that Track Nine is one of my actual favorite songs that Y/n has put out. Now all the commotion stops here, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.” As he finishes, they lock eyes and simultaneously burst into fits of laughter.

I knew it wasn’t that serious

We were clickbaited

THEY FOOLED US

Social Media is the devil

@MarsOfficial I tried to tell you

Her next project is gonna go so crazy

Hiiii from Canada

Instead of turning the phone back towards his girlfriend, Joey gently cuffs her waist and pulls her over to himself so she can continue her job. Then rests his hand over her shoulder.

Yoooo if you couldn’t see the height difference then, you def see it now🤭

Ugh they look so damn good together 

Yall should do an whole day in the life

What happened to not liking cameras Joey???

“Okay guys, I think I’m gonna take a few more questions then call it a night.”

Noooo

Has Joe seen the entire show?

Booooo

Yes get off so Joe can get off from work and see his real girl

European fans here!!!

What is your ideal date night?

“I know I know, but our dinner’s almost here so we gotta wrap this up. No, he has not seen the whole show. I need my man to be surprised too. More importantly, he has no clue how Crazy for Me is being set.” She smirked as she felt his hand move down to her thigh.

Oh they gon wrap something else up tonight too

“Oh but does my mind wonder.” He bites his lip, no longer able to pay attention to anything but the woman on his right.

Omg the sexual tension is brewing

His hand continues to stroke her thigh until his phone goes off. “Fuck, food’s here.” He gets up and rounds the couch, but before he completely passes her their dark eyes meet and he makes a quick stop. 

@MarsOfficial I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, they are literally CRAZY for each other

Dream vacation??

I’m sorry why can’t a man look at me like that

She was right about this not lasting very long

Shiiiiii I wonder how long HE lasts👀

@lahjay10_ yalls comments are getting out of hand

A strong but gentle hand lightly pulls her head back and they smile before he connects his lips to hers for a shy but sweet kiss, then he pecks her forehead and leaves the frame. 

AGAIN A MAN LIKE THAT PLEASE

GOD WHOEVER IS LISTENING THANK YOU

That looked mad forced

You make me feel so single🤧

If you weren’t famous, what would you be doing?

Y/n quickly clears her throat before looking back at her comments. 

@lahjay10_ oh god, get that off of my phone

She’s so flusteredddd

Girl we understand whewwww

“Uno, go away. Okay um, speed round. Dream vacation is definitely Greece. Ideal date night depends on how we’re feeling, but you can’t go wrong with a nice restaurant then coming home and getting in the hot tub. If I weren’t famous what would I be doing?”

Joe Burrow.

The man right behind you

That one Cincinnati quarterback maybe🤭

regular shit because they wouldn't even know each other

yall are unhinged 

Her eyes widened and she looked over her shoulder at her boyfriend setting up their dinner. “Hmmmm yes to the first three.”

QUEEN

@Riri.intl24 Girl focus!

@MarsOfficial Ridiculous.

“Ok but for real if I wasn’t famous I guess I’d be trying to put myself through school.” She shrugged.

“Nope, you’d be in your residency program like you’re supposed to because I’d take care of everything. Now sign off of there so I can have my dessert.” He stated from the background.

“We didn’t order any dessert.”

Joe darkly smiled, “we didn’t have to. Everything I want is already here.”

HOT SHIT

OMG

thats so scripted🥱

I THREW THE PHONE

MSKSKFYCYHC

GIRL GO

“Fuck me.” She says under her breath, then reaches for her phone. 

“I’m trying.” 

SCREAMING

@lahjay10_ imma clown his ass for this so much

@MarsOfficial Venus you need to move faster

@Riri.intl24 Esa comida no se comerá pronto

(translation: that food is not getting eaten anytime soon)

“Jesus, bye babes. Love yall, and I can’t wait to meet you soon.” She stands, blows the camera a quick kiss, and turns off the phone.

As she walks toward the dining room, he meets her half way and backs her up against a wall. “Fucking finally, I’ve wanted you since I first walked in.” 

His hands go straight to her soft waist and his lips meet hers with an intense fervor. Breathless moans are smothered against his lips and her fingers tangle in his hair. “Wha-what about the food?” 

Joe grips her ass, his lips pull off of hers, and they begin to suck purple bruises on her neck and behind her ear. “You always say it tastes better after it's reheated anyway.” 

He pecks her lips and smiles at his handy work: her lips swollen and red, eyes burning with a dark desire, neck glistening with a shiny magenta hue and knees trembling from the pressure. “You’re so beautiful.”

Her face heats up as she takes in the sight of her lover with a matching set of glossy lips. “I love you.”

“I love you more than anything, and I’m about to show you exactly how much.” He smirks then throws her over his shoulder and takes off towards the bedroom. 

“Joey!”

₊˚ପ ⊹ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ꕥ

a/n: part two this weekend♡

<<< Ch. 23: Tour Countdown | Part Two >>>

[papayadump]

on going landoscar fic rec !! :]

equal machinery by anon | race engineer oscar/driver lando

“Did you know you get, like, actual stars in your eyes, or hearts, maybe, when you talk about racing cars?” “Sorry,” Oscar’s pretty sure he’s fucked the interview, “I’m not usually like that.” – I finally write Driver x Race Engineer Landoscar as an excuse to talk about racing.

so fun and interesting to read about how oscar sees his work, sees the cars, sees lando

astra ex machina by @ne0nyx | sci fi mecha pilots landoscar

“Don’t you get weird vibes?” “Weird vibes?” Oscar repeats, eyebrow raised. “Yeah. Like… I don’t know. Like there’s something we’re not being told, something we don’t know.” “It’s space. There’s always something we don’t know.”

Lando opens his mouth to argue… but nothing comes out. He processes Oscar’s reply.

Technically, he’s right. - Lando is a Mecha Pilot, and Oscar is his mysterious new partner.

GOD, FUCK, THIS FIC ,,, newest chapter broke my heart ,, the dread and anticipation is gonna make me throw up but im still in for the ride

i think i found a part of me beside you by @complementaryhalves | driver landoscar + teammate dynamics

The night before his first Australian Grand Prix, Oscar receives a weird racing tip from his manager. When the season turns desperate, he shares with Lando, and they begin to use it. After all, what's a little strategic mutual edging between teammates? Except, it turns Oscar's rookie season into a journey of self-discovery he hadn't quite anticipated: race after race, he'll fight a lot with his own head and heart, learn many new things about himself, Lando, and the world, and maybe find love along the way.

messy teammate relationship baby !! i need to reread this one its so gooddd. teammates who rubs together,,, uh,,, well lets see how theyll end up 😭

Call It What You Want To by @dearbongjae | college au + rich people problems

Oscar Piastri didn’t mean to start a school-wide scandal. But when his “fictional” love essay goes viral across campus and the entire media, everyone thinks it’s real. Which is awkward, considering the boyfriend in question doesn’t exist. Unfortunately for Oscar, being a Piastri means his private life isn’t personal—it’s business. His powerful, reputation-obsessed parents now expect to meet this perfect mystery boyfriend. And whoever Oscar dates? They better be someone who brings value to the family name. Enter: Lando Norris. Model. Golden Boy. Media darling. And currently, the center of a PR disaster thanks to a false dating rumor linking him to a problematic, tabloid-loving model and socialite. George, their mutual friend, sees potential when others see disaster. So he sets them up. Oscar walks in with a plan; Lando walks in with an open mind and a quietly hopeful heart. What begins as a mutually beneficial arrangement turns into something much messier, because falling for your fake boyfriend wasn’t part of the deal. And Oscar is very good at pretending. Until he’s not.

SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE ! asshole ish oscar and popular golden boy lando :]

ceruse + celibacy by @agustloves | tudor era + prince lando/servant oscar

“Every Tudor rose has its thorns.” During the Tudor dynasty in England, Oscar is cursed (or perhaps blessed) to be the servant for Prince Lando. From a poor life in Italy to sleeping in the room opposite royalty. He yearns to get his family to score positions with royalty too. The only issue is, the prince he serves is infuriatingly divacious. Yet beautiful. And complex. And they fall in love. In love and war. But an arranged marriage between Duke Jenson and Prince Lando changes everything in court. Will Oscar risk it all to save an ill fated Lando?

oscar being a caring asshole (?) to bratty prince lando. lando is equally a brat and a tortured soul and oscar is equally cruel and loyal to lando. the angst here is crazy. there are a lot of moments where i audibly gasped while reading.

while the eyes are on us by amilyame | hunger games setting

Twenty-three slips with his name. That’s all it took. "I present to you the tributes of District 10 for the 74th Hunger Games!" Helmut Marko’s voice rang out. Lando glanced again at Oscar standing next to him — straight, motionless, with an impassive face. A person who had chosen to be here himself. In the district, they said that the butcher Piastri's son's hand wouldn't tremble even when he needed to slaughter a young bull. I wonder, thought Lando with sudden grim clarity, would it tremble when the time came to kill a person?

shepherd lando and a butcher's apprentice ,, the shepherd and his guard dog ,,, what more does one need. ALSO love how the author adapted "oscar being a fanboy since long" here

Satellites by @fairielux and @mintraindrop | star wars au

The Force has led Lando and Oscar into Wild Space. To a planet named Kesh. Their sanctuary and a way to learn about themselves.

im a sucker for a good crossover (?) au ,,, it feels like the authors are having fun writing too <3

[muletia]

Hello, I love all your works and wanted to ask if you'd ever be interested in doing an obsessive Rung? I wanted to throw out there that this is my first time writing anything of this nature. So apologies if it sucks but I wanted to try and entice you into doing something better. Anyways thanks for reading and whatever you write in the future im excited for and thanks again.

18+ content MDNI

Rung is in quite the predicament, with you sitting there right before him. He knows it's wrong but he can't change the way his processor drifts. As you sit there and speak about your problems and about your day-to-day life just wanting to get it out into the open. He's here tracing the way your lips move how each crinkle each wrinkle moves in such grace. He believes you are what humans call angels . He knows it's wrong after all he's your therapist he should be professional but he can't stop thinking about you. Your proximity, how close you are, how your chest moves with each breath. How he desires you, wants you and anything that you would give him. He's so distracted that he doesn't even realize you were calling to him until you place your hand upon his servo. "Rung are you listening, are you all right?".  Your warmth is such a shock such a pleasure he couldn't imagine what it would feel like to have them roaming everywhere on his frame. It takes him a second to reply. "I... apologies Y/N I was just a bit distracted but you were talking about your colleagues at work?". With a smile you resume and also remove your hand from his servo. How he wants to scream and shout. How he wants to beg for you to please bless him with your touch again, but he can't it's unprofessional. He reminds himself even though he is far from any realm of professionalism. Every time these thoughts course through his processor he tries to remind himself that he is your therapist and nothing more. That you see him as only that and nothing else no matter how much he desires just to capture attention. He continues to listen throughout your session with thoughts of you seeking him for not his work but for him alone. When it comes time for you to leave you thank him even though you shouldn't especially if you knew the thoughts he was having. How he was distracted every time you spoke, every time you moved, everything about you distracted him. Reminding him of how much he wants you. The moment you leave his office he falls to his knees, aft high in the air and panels retracting. Using the servo you touched and shoving them deep into his valve. Hitting his nodes imagining that it was you. That you we're blessing him with such pleasure. He shouts "Please more Y/N anything please!" Imagining your voice telling him how beautiful he was, how his valve was such a perfect fit for you. Telling him how he's such a good boy for you. How you desire him as much as he does you. All the pretty things he wishes you would say he's imagining, and with a final cry "Ahh! Y/N!!!" He overloads. It's embarrassingly quick and the fact that it caused him to reboot is even more so. He doesn't care though the only thought that crosses through him, is how he can't wait for your next session.

I have to admit, I’ve never read even a single chapter of MTMTE, and my fragmented knowledge of the characters comes from fanfics, which isn’t exactly the most objective source of information.

But!

This vision of a pathetically, obsessively in-love Rung totally speaks to me. I love desperate, down-bad yanderes tortured by their own feelings, but too terrified of the consequences of confessing to actually tell their object of affection. and you managed to check all the boxes <3

So in short: this is peak, it absolutely doesn’t suck, and I really need to finally sit down and read the comics.

Thanks for sharing your writing! Once I get familiar with the source material, I’m definitely going to write IDW-based fics.

[sageskiesf1]

Okay, Love you Bye - Lando Norris

Chapter one

Primrose’s heels clicked against the pavement as she finally arrived at the Imola paddock, a few minutes later than she wanted (and everyone expected). Alexandra stood nearby, waving her over with a bright smile, while Charles Leclerc and Lando Norris were already in conversation not far off.

Alexandra grinned. “Finally! You’re late, as always.”

Primrose threw up her hands, flashing a mischievous smile.

“Late? No, no. I prefer to think of it as fashionably late. It builds suspense.”

Alexandra rolled her eyes but laughed. “You’re impossible.”

Primrose glanced toward Charles and Lando. “And who’s this? Your racing buddies?”

Charles waved politely. “Hey, Prim. This is Lando.”

Lando gave a charming smile and a quick nod. “Hey. Alexandra’s told me a bit about you.”

Primrose arched an eyebrow. “Oh really? Hope it’s good things.”

Lando shrugged, smirking. “Depends. Bit chaotic. Had enough time to speak about you, being late and all.”

Primrose crossed her arms, feigning offense. “Late? Chaotic? Me? I’m practically a walking zen garden. And sarcasm is just my love language.”

Charles chuckled, shaking his head. “She can be incredibly intimidating too. But in a good way. But mostly when shes annoyed- it is in a bad way.”

Lando’s grin widened. “Intimidating? Now that’s interesting. I’m not scared of anyone.”

Primrose caught his gaze, sharp and playful. “You should be.”

Lando laughed. “Challenge accepted.”

Alexandra stepped between them, sensing the electric back-and-forth. “Alright, enough chemistry for one afternoon. Prim, come on, let’s get you that coffee before you combust.”

Primrose smirked, shooting one last look at Lando. “Save some of that bravado for the track, Norris.”

Charles shook his head with a laugh. “You two are going to have a lot of fun.”

___________

Primrose and Alexandra weaved through the bustling paddock, the smell of espresso and fresh leather mixing with the hum of engines nearby.

“I need caffeine,” Primrose sighed, her delicate fingers clutching her handbag as she tried to shake off the fatigue from an early start. “This ballet break is apparently exhausting in a different way.”

Alexandra smiled knowingly. “I get it. The paddock’s a different kind of chaos.”

They reached a small coffee stand, and Alexandra ordered two strong espressos. “You need to fill me in, we need proper catch up with whats going on, and why you suddenly have a week off.”

Primrose looked at her friend and rested her head briefly against the cool metal of the stand, she caught sight of Charles and Lando nearby, chatting quietly but with a hint of amusement, distracting her from Alex’s words.

Across the way, Lando leaned in slightly. “So, Charles, what’s the story with Primrose?”

Charles laughed softly. “Ah, she’s... a bit of a tornado. Beautiful chaos wrapped in ballet slippers.”

Lando smirked. “Sounds like my kind of trouble.”

Charles shook his head. “Don’t be fooled. She’s sharp — and intimidating if you don’t keep up. But she’s a good friend. Alexandra’s known her a while.”

Lando’s eyes twinkled. “I like that. Someone who keeps people on their toes. And Alexandra clearly trusts her.”

“Yeah, shes a good one, very vulnerable under all the layers and i mean- theres a lot.. shes a lot, but has the kindest soul, a good friend to alex,” Charles said, glancing toward where Primrose and Alexandra were now sipping their coffees, “but don’t underestimate the chaos part.”

Lando grinned.

——————

Short but sweeeeeet i hateeee first chapters sorry sorry

Eeeek im so excited