#“if you wanted me to hold you you could have just asked” in the also cheesiest voice possiblee

[thecameronchronicles]

Heat of The Moment

TW: unhinged Rafe. Dominant sex. Dirty talk. Language. Oral sex. Hair pulling. Cum swallowing.

REQUESTED:

@gianadrichardson-blog

So the idea I have in my mind is that y/n and Rafe are dating and Rafe KNOWS that every guy wants y/n from tourons, college guys and even his best friends want her. So while y/n was out of town with her parents, Topper accidentally revealed that he had feelings for y/n and tried to date her while her and Rafe was in the talking stage. So Rafe calls y/n and sees where she at. When Rafe gets y/n location he shows up and let out his frustration he had and record them having sex with y/n then send to topper with the message “keep away from my girl”

Maybe y/n older brother have y/n phone and decided to play a prank on rafe acting like a guy had y/n phone

Heat of the Moment

"What the fuck, Top?!" Rafe accuses, holding Topper's phone high enough out of reach. But your pictures remain on the screen. More specifically, pictures the friend of your boyfriend shouldn't have.

"I- just stop it, man-"

"My girlfriend's tits are on your screen! What am I supposed to think?"

"She's in a bikini but it it doesn't matter okay? Just-just let me have it back." But Rafe smashes it before Topper can even brush his fingers against it. His finger is pointed in his former friend's face before he can right Rafe's actions that he believes wholeheartedly are justified.

"Rafe. When you and her were just talking, I...I thought I had a shot. I get that now, okay? I just, sometimes I wonder what if-"

"If I even see you looking at her after this, you won't be able to ever look again."

Rafe was already fuming. He was jealous and curious, both existing to a dangerous degree that meant his knuckles were bloodied more than healed and his voice hoarse from having defended you.

There wasn't a soul within a dramatic radius within the Outer Banks that didn't see your beauty. Whether it was the stunning way your eyes could focus and become instantly lustful with one look at your boyfriend or the way your voice warmed even the coldest of hearts, Rafe Cameron knew exactly what he had.

Perfection.

He just didn't expect to have to have to defend you to someone so close to him- someone who has apparently had feelings for you since before you were officially anything with Rafe. It makes his hands wrap tightly around the steering wheel and his foot practically punch a hole into the floor of his truck as he races across the Carolina road.

He never thought he left it to question. You were his. He was yours. It was as official as it could be without a ring or contract of marriage and yet he knew he needed to make it unquestionably true to the one person it mattered to.

So without a call or text in warning, he is pounding at your front door.

"Rafe? Are you okay baby, you-" He is over your threshold, face between your hands, your body pulled into his as he kisses you between words.

"You know I love you, yeah?" You nod with your hands coming up around his wrists. If you didn't trust him so gravely then you'd worry for the strength behind his hands as he brought you against him.

"You know I'd do anything for you?" He kisses with a grunt, more animal than the man you talked to earlier this morning.

"And that you say our word and it stops, no questions asked? That you know I put you first?" His forehead rests against yours as he waits for your agreement. It takes less than the time of a blink before he gets it.

"Good, remember that because I'm about to fuck you like I hate you." He lifts you around him and up your steps, suddenly too far away from your room.

You were the complete opposite of touch starved and yet you felt as if you had been drowning without his touch, the first moment of contact being an exhale for relief. Only in the juxtaposition that was being his girlfriend it also made you lightheaded.

"Rafe-" His hand comes up over your mouth as he only manages to get to the steps and turns you to cover them. Your knees dig into the uncomfortable wood and yet all you can focus on is the heat of the moment.

"Need to use that word, baby?"

You shake your head as he guides your hands around the open spaces between the bars making up your bannister.

"Then hold on." His belt sounds first and then the rough fabric of his pants being shoved.

"Jesus Christ, baby, I don't even need to spit on my cock, so I?" He leans over you, kicking your legs just wide enough to leave some comfort in the angle. "Always so wet for me isn't that right?"

"Always!" You moan into his hand as he grins against your shoulder before reaching into his pocket.

You hear the wrapper of the confom being torn and make the mistake to turn and see him do it with his teeth. Something about the savagery of it and the heat behind his eyes, still possessing your care above all else, and it sends you drenching the valley awaiting him.

"Safe and-" He moans, a deep honey tone, that makes your toes curl knowing you wrap around him snuggly enough to cause such a reaction.

"Tight, baby! Fuck!" He hits the stairs beside your cheek and yet it does nothing to limit anything. If anything, it spurs you both on as his other hand releases your mouth and you're able to kiss the skin of his fist as if to soften his rigidity.

"How are you so sweet AND sexy-hmm? Always know just what I need don't you baby?" Your body wills itself to endure all that is Rafe Cameron. Every tension soiling his happiness now pumping through every snap of his hips until all that remains is the frustration you know he veils from you. Still, you trust that every shove of him into you is only a method of showing you he cares.

However, it has never been quite this possessive before. Quite this needy. Quite this deep or hard.

And you fucking love it.

His hands can't move fast enough and yet they are graceful and not amateur. He rolls your nipples as he kisses your neck, thrusting without break, and whispering every dirty thought you have constructed in your time apart.

And then he becomes completely and utterly unhinged. Taking you in his lap, he pulls you facing away from him, still seated to the root. He bounces you, one hand around your neck, as the other rubs your clit. It can't be comfortable for him with the wood beneath you and still he is too driven by the cries you're making in the sound of his name to care about anything but this next thrust-or the dozens that follow.

"Nobody knows just how dirty you get for me, isn't that right baby? How deep you take my dick in this perfect little pussy? Yeah?" He slaps your clit with just enough pressure to make you jolt until he lifts his hips and makes you forget of the sting it leaves behind.

"How loud you get? It's a miracle nobody has called the cops yet. You sound like you're in pain, shit-" He turns you to him with the grip around your neck moving to your jaw and turning you to him.

"You good baby?"

"Harder-"

"That's my fucking girl?" You're lifted with a gasp following you as he takes you into your room. You are only allowed the reprieve of wood beneath your soles for a second before he's rutting you into the bed. Hand pushing your face into the sheets to somewhat muffle your screaming, all you hear is the repetitive "yeah"s in the mix of your name as he wallows in you.

"Do I have to worry about anyone else ever knowing about how good you feel?" You are torn away from your blissful daze at the question.

"What?" You turn and face him, seeing the phone pointed towards you. The heat from your skin accelerated until it is now the marrow in your bones and you can't cool it, not that you want to.

"Who fucks you deep enough to make you soak his cock like this?"

"Rafe!" You manage as he pulls your hair and makes your back arch for him.

"Who makes you dizzy and shit when he knows just where to hit?"

He pulls you to him, against his chest until you can look up at him.

"Who loves you enough to prove to everyone on this goddamn island you're his?! Huh?"

"RAFE! GOD! YOU, RAFE?" You sob, the pleasure almost painful as he grips your hip with one hand and keeps the phone recording in the other. The video is shaky and then disposed of as his cum begins to shoot from his heavy balls and up his shaft.

"On your knees, baby-" He takes the phone back, pointing it to your face. As always, he kisses you sweetly and runs a thumb over your lips, before you take him behind your smirk.

"Ohhh baby-" You accept him slowly before opening your throat to him. Eyes locked and cheeks prepped to be hollow, you wait as he cocks his head before powering through. He thrusts.

Twice.

Once.

And then becomes a blur.

Only grunts and 'fucks' leave between moans.

"Shit baby, you're gonna make me come- you want it?" He asks, managing to open his eyes long enough to see you nod. Digging your nails into his thighs, you drive him to pulse into your throat, over your tongue, and along with your swallow.

"Open-" he points the camera to show just the good girl you are.

"I fucking love you, baby, and now nobody will question who you belong to again."

"I don't think they do, Rafe..." You laugh it off as he helps you to your feet and into his arms within your bed.

As you fall asleep, you hear him tapping away on his phone before finally focusing completely on you. You rest well within his arms, satisfied in the countless orgasms you had as he reached his own, sweet dreams awaiting you that pale in comparison to what it means to be loved by Rafe.

Across town, Topper's phone buzzes. A video file from Rafe. The new phone, bought not even ten minutes after his last one was smashed sits in wait for the message.

MP4 file.

It is opened. The sound of slurping around the impressive shaft, angry and near completion is spliced with the sight of you spread for him on the stairs as well as the hip of the bed. Your cries are only of pleasure and they echo as the video plays.

"Stay away from my girl." Comes a warning meant for Topper.

Only it isn't Topper's eyes that come to the scene.

And it isn't Topper's life that gets the threat.

It is your brother's and he has just been waiting for an excuse to let out his own rage out against Rafe.

MASTERLIST

[moonstruckme]

hello mae ! could i ask for an apple pie with any of the marauders with these prompts?

“a flea market wedding dress” & “hands stained with pen ink”

it would also be alright if it’s just the first one if ever you don’t feel like writing with two of them in mind !

- 🧸 (i always forget to sign off with this 😭)

Thank you for requesting <3

cw: some non-sexual nudity (it's hardly mentioned only really implied)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 749 words

“Do we need eggs?” Remus asks from the other room. 

“I don’t think so.” You zip the dress up in the back, relishing in the smooth feel of the fabric on your skin. It fits like it was made for you. “I’m not feeling very eggy lately. Our last ones went bad.” You smile at yourself in the mirror, going to show Remus.

“It just feels strange not to have eggs…” he trails off as you come into view. It’s not your appearance that surprises him—you’ve been showing off your finds from the flea market since you got home—but the dress itself. “That’s pretty.” He sounds a tad breathless. “It’s, um. It’s white.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh, “it was someone’s wedding dress, once. Isn’t it nice?” You give him a little twirl. “I think if I take out some of the layers in the skirt it could be cute for summer. Very flowy.” 

“Very.” Remus caps the pen he was using for your grocery list, amusement coloring his tone. “You look lovely in it, dove. You know everyone will think we’re getting married when you wear it out, though, don’t you?” 

“With the way you dress?” You grin. It worsens when he stands, coming over to you with a grin of his own. “Doesn’t seem likely.” 

“My jumpers are very dapper,” he says, smiling into a kiss. 

You hum noncommittally, and he gives your middle a playful warning squeeze. A quick peck to your lips, then another, longer and sweeter. You set your hands on his chest, feeling the soft material of the jumper he’s wearing now. 

“I don’t know,” you tease, looking down at your contrasting outfits. “I think—oh, Remus!” 

You move away from him, but the damage is done. Two smudges of ink remain on your dress where his fingertips were. 

Remus is quick to follow your gaze. “Fuck.”

“It’s okay,” you say, even as your heart sinks. 

“No, dovey, I’m so sorry.” He looks like he wants to reach for you again, but he looks at his hands and swears instead. “I can—wait one second.” 

He goes back around the counter, and you hear the sink running. 

“Really,” you say, “it’s fine. It was only a few quid.” 

“No, but you were excited about it. I think I can get it out.” 

“It’s ink, Rem, it’s…” 

You trail off as he comes back around the corner, soapy dish sponge in hand, and presses it to your dress. 

“What…” You move your arm out of the way. Remus settles a hand on your hip, holding the both of you steady as he bends closer to your waist. He swipes the sponge over the fabric with a concentrated furrow between his brows. “Are…are you washing me?” 

“I’m getting the stain out.” 

“I don’t think soap is going to do it, honey.” 

The look your boyfriend casts up at you is equal parts loving and exasperated. “It usually works for me. This isn’t my first time getting ink on clothes.” 

That, you can believe. The writing in Remus’ notebooks is always smeared, the culprit to be found in his inky hands. Sometimes you swear he gets black and blue stains up to his elbows. You’ve no clue how he manages it.

“Now we only need to put baking soda on it, and it should come out.” He gives your dress one last good scrub with the sponge.

“Right,” you say hesitantly. “So should I just lie down for that, or…” 

“I probably should have had you take it off first,” Remus admits. “I panicked, a little bit.” 

You laugh. He looks relieved to hear it, some of the guilt easing from his expression. “That’s my fault, I guess.” You unzip the back of your dress, trying to step out of it without disturbing the stain. 

“No, I think it’s all still mine,” Remus says, but he takes it from you.

Once he’s done arranging it in the sink and piling it with baking soda, he comes back to you, slotting a hand behind your ear and letting his fingers slip into your hair. 

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He kisses you. 

You roll your eyes. He knows you can’t be cross at him when he does that. 

“You just didn’t want me to be better dressed than you,” you say, though there’s nothing but fondness to be found in your tone. 

“You’re always better dressed. As you’ve said, the bar isn’t high.” 

“Oh, shut up. You know I like your jumpers just fine.”

[writersdrug]

I need, need need neeeeed to know who you would picture bar owner price with 😩 picturing bar owner price has me week in the knees. I need more, how would he be around the bar when he was there? Supporting, bossy,silly? The possibilities are endless. 🥰

I'm loving how people are requesting things for the rest of the 141!!

Bar Owner!Price isn't there every day, and most often not during the actual shift. He's there some mornings, already at his desk on the floor above the pub, setting up the next inventory order and dealing out everyone's tips before Simon climbs down from his flat on the third floor. They both grunt at each other, tired and in need of a hot breakfast and some tea.

He helps set up for the shift - he likes being in the kitchen with Soap. He feels bad the man is back there all by himself, even though he says he doesn't mind it. "I get to cuss 'n bitch all I want back 'ere, sir." Still, Price spends a majority of his time back there with him, prepping burger patties and making sure everything is stocked and ready. Gets on his case about updating the menu, but Soap insists the customers like it the way it is.

Price makes an appearance on the floor every now and then, opting to help run food or bartend on the busier nights. He checks in with the regulars, leaning his forearms on the bar with his sleeves rolled to his elbows, laughing and chatting with them and occasionally offering to refill their drinks. Simon grumbles quietly about him being in the way, but Price doesn't take it to heart.

He doesn't stay late. John isn't that old, but he likes to be back at home by a decent hour. One ruined sleep schedule and he's a shot for the rest of the week. He likes to get back to his flat, make himself a sandwich and pour himself some whiskey, and be on on his sofa and reading his book no later than ten in the evening. Routines have always been a part of his military career, and what can he say? Old habits really fo die hard.

Then you came along.

You didn't just rock Simon's world - you'd gotten Price, too. Though introductions could have been smoother (you nearly beat him with a keg when he came in through the back door and scared you), he's grown fond of you. First, as a hard worker and go-getter; then, as a pretty little waitress with a dazzling smile that likes to keep him on his toes. You love poking fun at him, calling him "bossman" or "barmaster" (doesn't make sense to him, since he's hardly behind the bar - but he finds it cute). You tease him for the way he runs your food, then gets stuck at the table for five minutes just chatting up the customers. You ask him things like, "Who do you prefer, Cardi B or Nicki Minaj?" And laugh when he just stares at you with a furrowed brow. He'll happily let you tease him for being an "old" man just to hear your laughter.

Then Simon sent that photo in the group chat, and Price felt something stir in his chest: looking at you, posing all prettily for your picture, working to push your little idea out there and bring in a crowd. He's impressed, but he's also intrigued. He's got his sights on you, and he's dying to figure out more about his waitress.

"'S the post making any headway?" He asks one night, leaning on the bar next to where you sit. Your tips are finished, money waded into the pocket of your apron as you scroll on your phone, sipping on a screwdriver.

"Kinda..." You mumble, a pout on your face, creasing the skin between your eyebrows. "People are seeing it, and there are a few likes, but no one's really engaging. Not sure if this will do well."

Price hums thoughtfully, looking at your lips while you stare at your screen. He's holding back the urge to lean in and take a whiff of your perfume, afraid it might seem just a bit too strange. "Have you tried promoting it?"

You look at him, laying your phone on the bar top. "Well... I could, but..." You wanted to finish with 'it would cost money'. But then, you'd be insinuating that you expected him to pay you. You could boost the post yourself, but you'd rather not spend money on something that might flop.

"'S there a problem?" Price asked, leaning in closer to you.

"I mean... promoting a post costs some money. Like, for it to be advertised to five hundred people, you'd pay around one fifty. And I think, depending on how far you wanted the post to reach - like, literally, how big of a geographic area - that would cost even more."

Price chuckles. "You do realize how much business you've brought in since you've joined the team, hmm?"

That makes your cheeks warm, pressing your lips into a line to avoid grinning like an idiot at the compliment. "I mean... sure..."

"Go upstairs to the office and get my wallet." he says, standing up from his seat at the bar.

You watch with a stupefied expression as he walks to the POS and prints some blank receipt paper. "You- you mean it? Are you sure?"

He sits on a barstool near the kitchen door. "Wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Hurry up- before I change my mind."

You don't need to be told twice. You drop your phone onto the bar and bolt towards the stairs - you stop yourself, running back to where Price sits and hugging him from behind. He lets out a surprise grunt as you do your best to smother him.

"You're the best boss ever!" you squeal. Then, just like that - you're off to the office upstairs. He preens over the compliment as he hears you leaping two steps at a time.

"Be careful." he calls over his shoulder. He sits there a moment, staring at the paper in front of him. He's surprised he hadn't accidentally thrown you off of him purely out of instinct, but he can't say he isn't absolutely delighted by the hug. It lingers in his mind, his chest still remembering your arms around him. He shakes his head, reaching forward to grab a pen from behind the bar.

His eyes meet Simon's - the man is glaring daggers, his head framed by the window in the kitchen door, mask hanging from his ear. His lips are pulled down into quite possibly the angriest frown Price has ever seen. His nostrils flare as he exhales - Price wonders what sort of insults are flying through the bartender's head right now.

He glares right back. If Simon wants something, he'll give it to him. But he'll make him ask for it, like any normal human being. John isn't going to surrender just because Ghost is huffing and puffing, expecting his boss to back away from you just because he's stomping his foot and looking menacing. But how can he be sure that Simon really wants you, more than he thinks Price deserves you, if the lad won't say anything? It's only reasonable, right?

"If you want something, Simon, say something." Price calls out, never backing down from Simon's jealous gaze.

He huffs again and disappears from the kitchen window. Price can hear shuffling and banging, followed by Soap's irritated voice: "Oi, I got it! Get yourself outta my kitchen n' go your own shite, 'fore you break my stuff."

Price sighs, scribbling down some numbers on the paper in front of him. He'll cave, eventually.

[changetyre]

Make a wish

SUMMARY: It's Ivy's 2nd Birthday and her birthday wish is a little bigger than you'd expected. Part of Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: None?

A/N: Requested over on wattpad ;)

"Oh no Max the party hats, I forgot to get party hats." Your heart sunk to your stomach. 

"No, I bought some." Max calmed you down. 

Today was Ivy's 2nd birthday and she had been so insistent about celebrating her birthday at a race with her Papa and Uncles despite you telling her she could have a big birthday party at home with her friends. Ivy almost cried when you suggested something else wanting nothing more but to be at the "waces!" for her birthday. 

Despite this, you still wanted her birthday to have somewhat of a little celebration so you'd spent days making and decorating cupcakes to take to the paddock and buying some decorations for Ivy. 

You'd wanted everything to be a surprise so you'd mostly work at night so that the girls didn't see you because you also knew that if Lea saw anything she would definitely say something since she was as good at keeping secrets as her uncle Lando.  

But Max could tell how stressed and tired you'd grown with trying to get everything perfect for her and he was glad it was finally the day so you could relax a little. You'd woken up earlier to get the stuff in the car so that Brad could drive it to the track before you arrived with Max, Ivy, and Lea. 

"Okay, I'll go now." Brad got in the car to drive off. 

"Wait no did I bring down the streamers?" You asked. 

"Yes," Max answered waving Brad away. 

"Wait what about the-" 

"Schatje, everything's there." Max cupped your face to get you to look at him. 

"But what if-" 

"If it's not she won't even notice darling, it'll be perfect because we'll be there." Max kissed you not letting you argue further. He could feel you relax in his arms. 

"I'm sorry, I just want everything to be perfect." You hugged your husband tightly. 

"You'll never reach perfection baby, trust me I've tried" Max kissed your head. "But you're close enough and Ivy's gonna love whatever we do for her." 

 __________

"PAPA WOOK!" Ivy yelled excitedly as she ran out of her room. 

Max turned to see his daughter in a big puffy Belle dress which she had begged him to buy for her birthday. 

"Oh my god is that Belle?" Max gasped dramatically. 

You stood by the door watching the interaction with loving eyes. 

"No Papa is me Iby!" Ivy ran up to her dad who lifted her up and twirled her around. 

"How's my gorgeous birthday girl?" Max kissed her cheeks. 

"Papa I tuwn two." Ivy held up her tiny hand trying to hold up 2 fingers but her third finger kept slipping out of the grasp of her little thumb and pinky finger. 

"Yes, you do and you need to stop growing." Max hugged her closer sighing at the idea of his girls growing up. 

A few seconds later Lea peaked her head around the corner of her room. "Mamma?" She called your name. 

"You ready baby?" You asked your daughter whom you'd also bought a dress for since you wanted to make sure she didn't feel left out. 

She nodded shyly, she'd started growing shy around you and her dad lately whenever she showed you something which you found adorable. 

She walked out wearing her Belle dress too except hers was the blue town dress and you'd helped her put a blue bow on her hair. 

"What a gorgeous princess!" Max also sighed dramatically while holding Ivy who clapped in his arms happily. 

You had breakfast quickly, the girls and you having pancakes as a treat for Ivy's birthday while Max had to eat something else to keep his weight down for getting in the car later. 

You strapped everyone into the car and off you went to the race track. 

________

As soon as you arrived there were cameras everywhere but by now the girls were used to it especially Lea who liked to pose for the cameras despite Max and you telling her to keep her head low. 

"Mama Wando?" Lea pointed down to the McLaren hospitality as you approached the Redbull hospitality. 

"Maybe we'll see him later Ivy he's not here yet." You lied and heard her sigh sadly as she rested her head on your shoulder.

You'd arrived at the track pretty early since Max didn't have to be on the track until around 4 today but as a surprise for Ivy's birthday, You and Max had asked the boys if they could arrive early to surprise Ivy for her birthday knowing she would just want to spend the day with her favorite people. 

You walked into the Redbull hospitality and Brad, Vicky, and other staff members were there ready just like planned. 

"Ivy look!" Max called out to his daughter who lifted her head from your shoulder to look towards her dead. 

"SURPRISE!" They called out as party poppers went off and confetti flew everywhere Ivy's eyes and mouth were wide open as she looked around the decorated room. 

She squealed in your arms squirming for you to put her down and as soon as you did she went running to where there were presents and a huge cake with a small fondant F1 car where Ivy was the driver wearing a tiara. 

"PAPA LOOK!" Ivy called out to her dad pointing at the top of the cake. 

"Wow, Ivy." Max gasped surprised as if he hadn't specifically asked for her cake. 

You looked around to look for Lea just to find her munching away at the snacks that were laid out across the snack table despite eating breakfast not long ago. Just as you turned again you noticed Lando, Dani, Carlos, and Charles at the door, Ivy too distracted looking at her cake with her dad to notice. 

"Come in." You waved the drivers over. Max had previously discussed all of this with Christian and he'd gladly accepted having the drivers over at the hospitality for a few hours for the celebration. 

"MY BABY!" Lando yelled as soon as he was inside. 

Ivy's head snapped immediately in the direction of her favorite person. "WANDOOOO!" She yelped as she ran as fast as her little feet could carry her towards her godfather. 

Lea hearing the commotion turned around and also ran towards her godfather, Daniel scooping her up in her arms happily. 

It didn't take long for the rest of the drivers to pile in and Ivy excitedly greeted everyone although always kept coming back to Lando's arms. 

Although you'd insisted they didn't have to bring anything you weren't surprised to see the gift table had doubled in numbers at all the gifts the drivers had bought only hoping they hadn't spent ridiculous amounts of money on a 2-year-old. 

"Happy Birthday dear Ivy! Happy Birthday to you!" Everyone finished singing as Max held Lea in his arms, you holding Lea in yours as you stood behind the birthday cake. Antoine, Louis, and Joris moved across taking pictures and videos of your family per their own request as you'd told them they didn't need to take any pictures and you'd be happy with simply their presence but they insisted. 

"Make a wish princess." Max lowered Ivy so she could blow at her candles. 

"I wish for a widdle broder!" Ivy yelled out unashamedly blowing out her candles afterwards. 

You and Max looked at each other in shock as everyone around you burst out laughing. "Uh, you're meant to say your wish in your head baby," Max told his daughter not really sure how to proceed. 

"hmm." She shrugged unbothered as she squirmed for Max to put her down. "Wando Cake!" She called out to her godfather who gladly came over to help Ivy start cutting the cake (horribly). 

After everyone got a piece and Lea sat sharing her piece with Lando on his lap you all sat and relaxed for a while, Max by your side as Lea played around with Joris and Charles whom she still had an obsession with. 

Max turned to you blinking hard three times, his little I love you gesture. "So what do you think about Ivy's wish huh?" Max asked you. 

You laughed at the thought. Max laughing with you. "If it's with you I want it all." You told him lovingly. 

"In another year?" Max dragged your chair closer to him so there was barely a gap between the both of you. 

"Sounds good to me." You smiled before Max kissed you lovingly. 

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi! I want to start off by saying that I absolutely ADORE your stories!! ❤️💖💖😁😁😁😁💖💖❤️ And I also really hope you make a series out of the de-aged Captain Marvel au! The potential cuteness and absolute chaos is great!

Tim Drake no longer owned Drake Manor.

When his mother died, it had fallen out of his family's assets as his father had been less than prepared to run the company. When he woke that was.

At the time, Tim had been struggling with the loss and the craziness life had become. Moving to the penthouse was a necessary evil because otherwise, Bruce would have noticed that his "uncle" wasn't around as much. He hadn't really missed the manor, but it was a comfrot to see it there, unchaning since his family fell apart.

He always told himself he would repurchase it, making a mental note whenever he was at Wayne Manor, but he never did for one reason or another. The building remained on the market, but it was considered bad luck among the elites to purchase ancestral homes and the regular populance could never afford it.

Tim would sometimes glance at the manor while driving his motorbike to visit the Waynes. Occasionally, he would stop at the gate, staring at the building and reminiscing.

It would help clear his head on some dark nights. He silently promised himself that when he retired from the field, he would come back home and maybe raise his own family here. It was likely a lie because he couldn't imagine a life without being a vigilante, but it was a nice thought anyway.

He did that today, going for a drive to clear his head and aiming to stop in front of his old home to climb over the fence and sit under the same tree when he realized with a start that the yard had been cleaned up and a group of people were moving items into the building. Yanking out his phone, Tim did a quick search, feeling all the blood drain from his face when the listing now read: SOLD

An overwhelming sense of numbness erupted from his chest as he looked back up, watching the moving crew go to and fro with the belonging of the new owners.

Someone had bought his childhood home. Tim had allowed it to slip through his fingers.

He doesn't have time to process that before a child's laughter has him swinging his head to the top of the gate pillars. There, a boy with bright blue eyes is watching him, eating a giant swirl lollipop.

Tim's heart launches when he realizes how close the child is to tilting over as he yells "Hi mister!"

"Hey there." Tim says as calmly as he can speak."Are you okay up there? You can fall."

"I'm fine. It's really easy to climb up here."

Tim knows. He used the same method to follow Bruce and Jason as a kid. Still, it doesn't make it safe so he steps closer, just incase he needs to catch the kid. It helps, having this distraction from the ache of his mistake in not rebuying Drake Manor.

He ignores the empty sign that the child is leaning against, the faded outline of his family name showing where they removed the metal shapes. He can't handle that right now.

"If you're sure. My name is Tim by the way. What's yours?"

"I'm Billy! I'm five years old! " the boy answers, holding up his hand with a cheer. He gives his lollipop two licks before he gestures at Tim with it."Why are you standing in front of my house?"

"I just.....got curious. You have a pretty house." Tim says as evenly as he can.

"It's super pretty inside, too! My Dad bought it for my Mom and Papa," the boy cheerfully tells him. We move next to my uncle because my Dad says we have to stay close to family."

Wait.

"Bruce Wayne is your uncle?" Tim asks, and the boy nods rapidly. He even points down the street to where Wayne Manor can be viewed from a far distance- neighbors, they may be- the two properties were very vast. "He lives over there with my cousins."

Cousins.

"Oh" Tim hears himself say "That would be me."

Billy eyes sparkle "You're a Wayne?"

"Yes, Tim Drake-Wayne."

"I'm Billy Phantom! Heir to throne!" Billy shouts leaping off the pillar cuasing Tim to launch forward with his arms streach out ready to catch. He hits the ground with a oof but a lack of weight in his hands says he failed to caught Billy.

Not that it mattered as Billy floated in the air harmlessly. Tim glances at the workers to see if anyone has noticed that the boy is apparently a meta, but they don't even look over. Maybe the information was disclosed upon hiring?

"Are you Robin?" Billy says in his face, flouting upside down and staring into Tim's round eyes. He still lays in a heap on the floor, position for a catch and it must make quite a sight to any onlooker. "You look to big to be that one."

Before Tim could even think of an excuse, multicolored rose petals started to fall around them in a dazzling down. It appeared like foral confiti falling from the heavens. Billy flips around to see a pale, beautiful woman dressed in a gothic attire walking toward them.

Behind her, plant life blossoms into a wonderful sight. "Mom!"

"Billy, what did we say about Uncle Bruce's secret?" The lady says, voice musical to the ear.

"But Mom! Only the ghosts are around!" Billy whines, pointing at the moving crew further down the driveway, who have yet to pay attention to them. They didn't care that a goth version of Posion Ivy had strutted by.

"That's no excuse. What would your auntie Jazz say?"

"She says I was not being trustworthy with secrets and other peoples' feelings. I'm sorry." Billy slumps, flouting down to pout on the ground.

"Exactly. Hello Timothy," the woman continues, turning her purple eyes towards the down boy.It's lovely to have family over. "I'm Sam, goddess of the Green. Bruce recommended this place to us. We are excited for the next ten year vacation"

Bruce has a lot to tell him, more then just selling his family house without letting Tim know.

[tarotwithavi]

What is coming into your life?

+ some messages that you need to hear

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

This is a general reading so take what resonates and leave the rest.

Masterlist

paid services

Thank you so much for your love and support 💕🫶🏻

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 1

The first thing I’m getting is that many of you have been focusing on personal growth, and it’s paying off. I see a lot of you realizing that you’re truly capable of achieving anything you set your mind to. You’re stepping into a powerful energy of self-confidence and self-love, and this shift is going to attract a lot of good things into your life.

Keep your eyes open for new ideas, projects, or invitations that come your way. Whether it’s a sudden thought or an offer to attend an event, these opportunities could be really beneficial for you. Trust your instincts.

Some of you might be considering doing something that no one in your family has done before. This could be a bold move or a unique choice. I want to encourage you to take that leap. By doing so, you will break a cycle of family patterns, especially around standing up for yourself and your dreams. It’s a brave step, but it’s one that will bring healing and growth.

I’m also picking up that some of you will soon spend quality time with an important male figure in your life. This could be your father, grandfather, or someone you look up to with strong masculine energy. This time together will feel meaningful and may even strengthen your relationship. Some of you are thinking about having an important conversation with your parents. This could be about expressing gratitude for everything they’ve done for you, or it could be about something else on your mind. Either way, I see this discussion changing perspectives in a positive way, bringing deeper understanding.

I also sense that many of you will receive a new opportunity related to making more money. This might come through a job offer, a project, or a chance to use your talents in a way that allows you to earn from them. This is a great time to explore how your skills can be turned into something valuable.

However, I do feel that some of you are worried or stressed about something, particularly when it comes to the outcome of an exam, test, or project. Let me reassure you—you don’t need to worry. The results will be positive, and you’ll feel satisfied with how things turn out.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 2

You need to stop giving your time and energy to people who don’t appreciate or value you. If you are in a position where you can protect and care for the people you love, then do so without overthinking the outcome. However, if you’re not in a place to make decisions for them, it’s important not to try and control everything. Remember, before you can protect or help others, you need to protect yourself first. Secure your own place, take care of your own well-being, and then you can support those around you.

It’s also important to understand that you don’t always have to be strong. It’s okay to just be yourself. You don’t need to carry the weight of everyone else’s problems. Be honest about how you feel, and don’t be afraid to show vulnerability.

I see that many of you are incredibly talented, with unique skills and gifts. But what’s holding you back is your own self-doubt. You might feel like your talents won’t be appreciated or recognized, so you keep them hidden. But how will you ever find people who truly appreciate you if you don’t share what makes you special? Take this as a sign to put yourself out there. Show your talents to the world so you can connect with those who truly see your worth and value your skills.

For some of you, there’s a big change coming. You may be pushed in a new direction or forced to change the path you’re currently on because it’s no longer good for you. Don’t see this as a bad thing; instead, view it as an opportunity for growth and self-improvement. This change could lead you to a better version of yourself.

I also sense that some of you are stuck in a confusing or unstable relationship. The person you’re talking to or have feelings for might be giving you mixed signals , one moment they seem totally in love with you, and the next, they act like you don’t matter to them. If this is the case, it’s important to recognize that this is not a healthy situation. When someone’s actions make you doubt yourself, it’s a clear sign that something isn’t right. It’s better to walk away now, before it hurts you more in the long run.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 3

I see that in the coming weeks, you’re going to need to work very hard on something important. This could be related to a project, job, or personal goal you’ve been focused on. However, all this hard work might take a toll on your health, so it’s important to be extra careful and take good care of yourself. Don’t push yourself too hard. If you feel stressed or overwhelmed, make sure to take small breaks when needed. Remember, it’s okay to slow down sometimes.

The good news is that what you’re working on ; whether it’s something you’re involved with now or something you’ll start soon , is something you’ve been wanting for a long time. You’ve probably dreamed about this moment, so stay positive and trust the process.

I feel the need to remind you that you are deeply loved by the higher power, whether you believe in God, the universe, or Mother Nature. No matter how many mistakes you make or how unworthy you may feel at times, you are always loved and supported. You are part of something greater, and that love is unconditional.

Now, take a moment to think of a yes-or-no question that’s been on your mind. The answer to that question is “no.” This might be the guidance you need to help you move forward.

Back to the main message, something significant is going to happen within the next few weeks. I would say by the end of this month or the first week of October, you’ll experience an event that will bring up strong emotions. It could be overwhelming happiness or sadness, but either way, the feelings will be intense. Be prepared, and try not to let the situation control how you react. Stay calm and centered, no matter what comes your way.

Also, a little advice: some of you need to wear more yellow or add yellow to your wardrobe. This color might bring positive energy into your life. If you’ve been feeling unwell, like having a fever or headache, I see that it will likely pass within 48 hours. But if you’ve been having constant headaches, don’t ignore them ,it might be time to see a doctor just to be safe.

Lastly, angel wings and a purple or pink dress will be meaningful symbols for you, so keep an eye out for them. They might show up in your life in some special way.

I also feel like adding this

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[vigilskeep]

hello! you know a lot of dragon age lore so i thought id ask you— i saw a post earlier that was discouraging to me aa trans person where the op said that veilguard having top surgery scars in the cc goes against established worldbuilding. does it make sense for top surgery to be possible in thedas? thanks

my rule of thumb is that in a world where healing spells exist, there’s absolutely no logical, believable reason for it not to be possible. you don’t have to go back and provide sources about historical surgeries—which is something i personally know nothing about—for this to be true

like, i just can’t take this line of thought seriously. ohhh we can have floating cities and magical neon lights and spirit healers who can mend injuries just by passively standing next to you, but we draw the line as soon as it’s something that would make our trans players happy! it’s so transparent. do not listen to these people or let them discourage you

if you want to get into the worldbuilding potential of it—which is just fun to do—we can probably guess that for the top surgery scars to be as neat as they seem to look in the veilguard character creator, similar to modern ones, magical healing was involved. now i do believe that the chantry might get suspicious of body-altering magic, that magical power is hoarded by the circles in the south and the wealthy in the north, and also that “out” trans people are a minority in thedas. so i’m not saying that this is something easy for your average guy to get hold of. that’s where you can feed it into backstory. are they powerful and connected enough that they could find specialists willing to go beyond the ordinary? or do they have underground connections to hidden apostate healers, whose only priority is what helps (or perhaps just how much you’re willing to pay)? do they belong to a culture that might not be restricted by the chantry’s norms about gender or magic, like the dalish or the rivaini? or do they belong to a mage-focused community or order, who among themselves do whatever they like? endless options

some might be referring to a line in dai from krem, a trans man, where you can ask him about potentially changing his body with magic and he essentially says he wouldn’t let magic that could do that anywhere near his body, though when he was younger he might have dreamed about the possibilities. firstly, krem is absolutely not the gold standard for trans representation and nobody should care about being flexible from what bioware put out a decade ago. secondly, krem is a random mercenary who knows one (1) mage, who spends the entire time insisting she’s not a mage. i very much doubt he’s the no. 1 source for what might be magically possible in this or any regard

also ultimately, and i cannot express this enough, you can do whatever you want forever. it could be absolutely fundamentally impossible in-world somehow and it would still not be that serious to be “unrealistic” in the dragon video games. don’t let anyone discourage you from making the character you want to make. it being an option makes it canonically part of thedas, end of. they put it in the game and nobody bitching about it can take it out

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Hi can u please write about domestic life with Bills Eric Draven? Can there be fluffy and smutty moments? Tyyyy

Boy can I??? I’d be DELIGHTED. His domesticity is all I think about. He’s the sweetest, kindest and most loving bf and you can’t change my mind. I got a little carried away! Hopefully this is what you were wanting! Enjoy doll!

Bf!Eric x gf!reader. Explicit sexual content under the cut, minors dni, oral (f receiving), p in v. brief mentions of drug use, mostly fluffy relationship stuff

It wasn’t entirely easy. You and Eric. The circumstances under which you met and the nature of the both of you was quite dysfunctional. You were chaos, and he was a mess. But it worked. The two of you. You worked perfectly. You weren’t sure what it was, you had never been able to maintain a healthy relationship with anyone. But it was almost like you were meant to be together. If you didn’t believe in the whole soulmates thing, you started to believe it when you met Eric.

He was so unreal, so out of this world. He was always by your side, fingers laced with yours, arm thrown over your shoulder. He always had to be touching you, whether it was something as little as holding your hand, or going as far as putting you in a matting press when he fucked you, because he hated the idea of not being as close to you as possible. He never meant to, he didn’t even know what it was. He just did it one day. Your knees damn near next to your head, your body nearly folded in half as he draped his body over yours. You didn’t even know your body could bend this way. But god this you like it. How deep he could be this way. And you had him so close you could hear his little sounds, his hard breathing and his soft grunts.

He always felt a little bad, manhandling you around like you were nothing. If he wasn’t bending your body in ways you didn’t think were human, he was putting you in a headlock as he took you from behind, one arm draped around your neck from shoulder to shoulder. He just wanted you close, afraid you’d run away. But he sometimes forgot to take it easy on you. You always assured him you were more than happy with him, that he wouldn’t hurt you. Deep down it made you all kinds of earn to know you could arise such passions from him. For someone so morbidly quiet and nonchalant, Eric was very intense and passionate lover.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you. You’re doing so good.” He would tell you, his voice soft and quiet in your ear, grounding you as his cock fucked you into nothing. “I just want to make you feel good, hm? Just want to make you feel good. That’s what you deserve.”

“I don’t deserve this. You’re too good for me.” He would say, his lips on your cheek as quiet moans spilled from your lips. “You’re just so… I can’t believe you’re all mine.” His name falling from your lips would be the end of him. So soft and desperate for him. He didn’t have much experience before you, but now he just can’t get enough of you. He wanted to be all over you at all times it actually upset him when you had to leave or when he did.9

But he was also oh so kind, so gentle and patient with you. He always followed you around like an oversized puppy, quietly listening to whatever tangent you would go on about. You could be cursing up a storm (albeit not directed at him) and he would take it with a straight face and big eyes. And it was often that nothing more but his presence would calm you down, center you.

“How do you do it?” You asked him one day, hot tears staining your face after a day of one stressor after another. Eric had managed to get you on the couch where he silently sat you down on his lap. You almost immediately curled up into his lap, legs tucked under you and your head on his chest. You felt an almost instant sense of relief and peace fill you, and you were sighing deeply, feeling your heart slow its fast beating.

“Do what?” He asked you softly, his fingers massaging your head calmly. You rested your hand on his chest, eyes closed.

“This. You calm me down. I was crying two minutes ago and now I feel… okay.” You felt him shrug under you and when you looked up he had a smile on his face. That smile could make you forget any grief or sadness you might have, because none of it really mattered.

But it wasn’t just him who could bring you peace, you were his, too. His lows weren’t as intense or visible as yours, but when he was at his low, he was at an all time low. He wouldn’t speak, he wouldn’t eat, he would just go about his day like a corpse, eyes dead and empty and his mind elsewhere. You understood he had his issues too, so you tried to be there for him without pushing him. You were more subtle. You’d make him dinner, you’d invite him to watch a movie with you. And you’d tangle up with him on the couch as you all but forced him to eat, and you’d talk to him about your day. But something so small always meant so much to him. He couldn’t help the way he felt, he couldn’t help his negative thoughts that drove him to do drugs in the first place, but having you around to remind him someone in this world loved and cared for him, it made it all a little bit easier.

Eric started to bring you flowers one day. Every week once a week, he could come home with your favorite flowers. He alternated colors. With a sheepish smile he’d stand in the doorway with his hands behind his back. And the way he would look at you when gushed about how pretty they were was like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world, the only one that mattered. And to him you were. Seeing that smile on your face was the only thing he ever wanted to do.

“You like them?” He would ask as if it wasn’t obvious, but he’d do it just to hear you giggle and watch you all but skip to put them in water. “Yeah? I saw them and thought about you.”

He always thought about you. There wasn’t a single waking second where he didn’t. You were good for him. And he knew that. He didn’t need anything else to fill the emptiness in his chest because he had you. You had filled that hole and he made sure you knew that everyday.

Eric had many ways to show his love and devotion for you. He wrote you poems, he drew for you, you had so many sketches you have started to run out of places to hang them, but this one was by far his favorite. He could spend literal hours between your legs. He absolutely loved it. He was absolutely obsessed with it.

“E-Eric.. Please.” You were shaking, sweating, incoherent as his tongue circled on your clit, his long fingers fucking you through your, fourth, fifth? You stopped keeping count. He had been down there for an eternity. He just kept asking for one more, just one more and he’d leave you alone. But it wasn’t enough. He was quite obsessive with the things he wanted.

But he figured he’d have to give you a break eventually. He was also painfully hard.

“I’m sorry baby.” He muttered softly as he crawled up your body, using the back of his hand to wipe the mess you had made, but his plush lips were still bright red and glistening. “You know I get carried away sometimes… You’re just so..”

He would kiss your face, brush your hair, soothe you back into a functioning human being. It wasn’t often that Eric vocalized his thoughts, but in moments like this when he felt safe and comfortable enough to be vulnerable, he would tell you all about how pretty you were, how talented you were, how much he loved you.

Eric was always full of surprises. He was quiet and nonchalant, but he was impulsive. You learned that very quickly.

“Baby?” You heard Eric call out to you as he came into the loft. You sat on the computer as you listened to one of his recordings. He had asked you to help him out since he really wanted to start pursuing his music and art now that he actually had someone that supported him.

With a smile, you took your headphones off and went to greet him, but you immediately frowned when you saw him hold something wrapped up in his hoodie.

“Hey, whatcha got there?” You stood up, approaching him with narrowed eyes as he broke out a smile.

“I’m sorry. I just found it, I just.. I felt bad.” He pulled down his hoodie to reveal a precious little kitten. A black ball of fur coating its little face. Your heart immediately sank and you wanted to cry.

“Oh my god, Eric.” You took the kitten into your hands and your eyes started watering as you hugged it. Eric wasn’t sure what to make of your reaction. Did you hate it? Were you upset?

“No, baby, I’m sorry. I found it outside, it’s kinda cold and it was drinking from a puddle. I didn’t want a car to hit it. We don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, we can take it to a shelter or something.” He started to mumble, a hand coming to rub the back of his head and his lips fell open when he saw a tear fall down your cheek. He approached you, reaching to grab your face. “Please don’t cry.”

“No… No Eric I’m not..” You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears as you leaned into Eric’s chest while still hugging the now purring black ball of fur. “I’m not upset at all. It’s just… I’ve never had my own pet before. And it’s so cute, can we keep it, please? It’d be our little child.”

The way you looked at him with big pleading eyes made him feel so warm, he never thought he’d feel something like this. He smiled, nodding as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Of course we can keep it. He’s kinda cute, right?” Eric chuckled as he scratched the little one’s head.

“Or she.”

Your little ball of fur wasn’t the only thing you and Eric shared. You got so many matching tattoos it was concerning. Your friends and family had even told you it was odd to get tattoos with a guy you had been dating for only a few months. But it didn’t matter to you. You didn’t know why, but deep down you knew your connection with Eric was out of this world. So what were a couple tattoos? You loved that you had a physical reminder of your connection with him. The feelings deep within your souls were forever marked on your skin, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Truth was, Eric loved tracing each and every one of your tattoos. He traced his fingers over the fine lines, traced the words, he traced his lips over them too. He particularly loved the ones on your back and on your stomach, the ones no one but him could see. They were his little secret.

You matched each other perfectly, in every way.

[shiroxichigo]

Ichigo gets a lot of shit (typically from outside of the Bleach fandom) for being a character whose wants/goals never change from beginning to end of his series. He always wants to protect people (and even though I could argue that he went from only wanting to protect those close to him to wanting to protect everyone he can, that's not the point I'm making with this post).

I think a lot of people who only give Bleach a passing glance fail to see Ichigo's true character growth. It's not about what his goals are or who he's trying to protect, but rather, it's about how he achieves it.

Ichigo is very self-sacrificing in the first third of Bleach. He believes that if the mission is successful, then it doesn't matter how broken or close to death he gets. The mission, saving Rukia (and hurting/killing as few people in the process), is all that matters.

Then, when a part of himself (his inner hollow) emerges, and says "hey yeah no, I'm not letting you get yourself killed and I'm also not letting you hold back against your enemy", Ichigo immediately rejects it.

It's not until he defeats his inner Hollow that we see Ichigo really dive into a fight with the intent to kill. The problem is, once his Hollow is defeated, he thinks that's it. He's freed himself of that part of him and he can go back to being self-sacrificing.

We see this throughout the Hueco Mundo arc. It's why saving Orihime parallels saving Rukia. Ichigo naively thinks he can suppress a part of himself. He bottles it up until it explodes, coming back to haunt him in his fight with Ulquiorra, etc. He learns that side of himself isn't so easily tucked away, and if he recklessly endangers himself, he could end up endangering his friends too. At his own hand, no less.

Then Ichigo discovers he can commit the ultimate sacrifice. Final Getsuga Tenshou. He can throw away these powers and the parts of himself that he doesn't like, and he can get rid of Aizen all in one go. He's lucky that it worked, but only because Kisuke was there.

Then, once Ichigo is powerless, he learns that's not what he really wants. Life doesn't "go back to normal". The can is open, and there's danger out there beyond just Aizen. And Ichigo can't do anything to stop it unless he gets his powers back.

So he does. Then he cuts down the threat to his friends and family. And he doesn't hesitate this time. Yes, he still has compassion for his enemies (he even goes to the Soul Society to ask for Ginjo's body so he can give him a proper burial), but he's learned not to hold back and he's learned that new threats will appear and he'd rather have the power to face them head on.

So then comes TYBW, and Ichigo is facing battles head-on without hesitation. He goes straight to the "bad guys" with the intention of cutting them down. He learns the truth about who his Inner Hollow is, and he accepts it. He's even willing to accept whatever consequences may come from training in the Royal Palace and becoming stronger. He accepts his power and potential fully, and learns that he has what it takes to protect his loved ones with his strength, and not with a sacrifice.

Ultimately, he heals the part of himself that thinks his life is worth less than other people's. He heals the part of himself that blames himself for not protecting his mother (when he was 9!! Like come on Isshin, put the kid in therapy!! Anyway...) He grows into someone who knows his self worth. And I think, for me at least, that makes him one of my favourite protagonists of all time. Because can't most of us relate to feeling worthless at times? And don't we also wanna overcome that?

Thanks for reading my ramble lmao, I'm sure this could have been more elegantly written but I'm very sleepy and just wanted to get my thoughts out there.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

hii I don’t know if you are doing requests but if you are could you please do one with toto Wolff x wife reader where she’s just given birth and her in-laws make fun of her or give her mean comments and she gets all upset but doesn’t tell toto to keep the family peace but he finds out and gets a tad upset at her for hiding it but he rips his family a new one please please!!

Unconditional Support

Word Count: 999

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader

Summary: Y/n shares her vulnerability after giving birth, revealing the hurtful comments from Toto's family that make her question her worth, prompting Toto to confront them with fierce protectiveness

I don't speak Polish so if something isn't right pleas let me know so i can change it.

Also my requests are still open

______________________________________________________________

Toto stood at the window, the hospital room filled with a serene quiet. You rocked the baby gently in your arms, trying to focus on the peaceful moment, but your mind kept drifting back to the things his family had said. Every comment felt like a dagger, cutting deeper than you’d let yourself admit. You’d spent so much time second-guessing your own reactions, wondering if you were being too sensitive—just like your ex-friends and ex-boyfriend had always claimed.

But this felt different. You had just given birth. You were vulnerable, exposed, and instead of support, all you got was veiled judgment.

Toto turned around, sensing your unease. He crossed the room in a few strides, sitting beside you on the bed, his hand resting on your knee. "What’s wrong?" he asked softly, his dark eyes filled with concern. "You’re not yourself."

You tried to smile, to push it down, but the weight of it all was pressing on you too hard. "I don’t know," you whispered. "I don’t want to make it a big deal. Maybe I’m overthinking things. Maybe I’m just being sensitive."

Toto frowned, his grip on your knee tightening slightly. "Sensitive about what?"

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But the memory of Eva’s voice, sharp and critical, wouldn’t leave your mind.

"Your mom…" you started slowly, "she said, *‘Ach, du siehst müde aus’* (Oh, you look tired), and I know I *am* tired, but the way she said it—it wasn’t just concern. It was like I was already failing somehow. Like I should be doing more, looking better. I’ve just had a baby, and instead of asking how I feel, she’s telling me I look bad."

Toto’s jaw clenched, but you continued, the words pouring out now.

"And then Katharina, she didn’t even say congratulations before she looked me up and down and said, *‘You’ll want to lose the baby weight quickly, right? There’s a Pilates instructor in Vienna…’* I know I’ve gained weight—of course I have, I just carried a child—but she made me feel like it’s a race to get rid of it. Like my worth is tied to how fast I look ‘normal’ again."

Your voice wavered, but you pushed on. "And Margit—she took the baby right out of my hands and said, *‘Das ist nicht richtig. Soll ich es dir zeigen?’* (That’s not right. Should I show you?) I was trying my best, and she acted like I didn’t even know how to hold my own baby. I already feel like I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, and she just made me feel… useless."

Toto stood up, his face dark with anger. He started pacing, his fists clenching and unclenching. "Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?" he demanded, his voice sharp. "Why did you let them say those things to you?"

"I didn’t want to cause problems," you said quietly, your gaze dropping to the floor. "I thought… maybe I was just seeing it wrong, like I always do. Maybe I was interpreting everything too negatively again. But the more I think about it, the more I realize… it wasn’t okay. They made me feel small. Like I wasn’t good enough."

Toto stopped pacing, his expression hardening. "You were right. They were out of line. I’m not letting this slide."

Before you could stop him, he grabbed his phone, his fingers flying over the screen as he found his mother’s number.

"Toto, wait," you pleaded, "don’t make this worse—"

But his face was set, determined. He brought the phone to his ear, speaking in rapid Polish as soon as his mother picked up. "Mamo, musimy porozmawiać." (Mom, we need to talk.)

You could hear the faint sound of his mother’s voice on the other end, but Toto’s expression didn’t soften.

"Nie, nie później. Teraz." (No, not later. Now.)

He glanced at you, his eyes blazing with a protective fury. "Dlaczego mówili takie rzeczy do Y/n?" (Why did they say those things to Y/n?) His voice was cold, demanding answers.

You watched, feeling torn between relief and anxiety as Toto continued to tear into his mother over the phone. You couldn’t understand everything, but the tone was unmistakable—he was furious, and he wasn’t going to let this slide. He paced back and forth, his voice low and dangerous as he spoke in quick bursts of Polish, likely recounting every hurtful comment you had shared with him.

After a few moments, his voice softened slightly, but his anger was still clear. "Nie obchodzi mnie, czy miały dobre intencje. Nie pozwolę, żeby tak traktowali moją żonę." (I don’t care if they meant well. I won’t let them treat my wife like that.)

He paused, listening to his mother’s response, before he sighed, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "To musi się skończyć. Teraz." (This has to stop. Now.)

He hung up the phone, his face still tense, and turned back to you. "I’ve told them," he said, his voice softer now but still firm. "They won’t be speaking to you like that again."

You looked down, guilt flooding through you. "I didn’t mean for this to turn into a big thing…"

Toto knelt beside the bed, taking your hand in his. "It’s not your fault. They were out of line, and you deserve better. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner."

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I just didn’t want to cause problems. I was so scared I was overreacting."

Toto cupped your face gently, his thumb wiping away a tear that slipped down your cheek. "You’re not overreacting. You’re not being too sensitive. You’re my wife, the mother of our child, and no one gets to make you feel less than the incredible woman you are. Not even my family."

You let out a shaky breath, finally feeling the weight of their comments lift just a little. You had doubted yourself, but Toto was making sure you’d never have to doubt him.

[doloresbutitsdolly]

Losing My Innocence

TW: no established relationship, up to no good antics, pining for each other, adult time 🙏

He's driving around, with you as his little passenger princess. He glances to you occasionally, admiring those tinted cheeks and lips of yours. You pretend to not notice; pretending to be busy singing to the songs on the radio. But part of you wished he did more; wish he'd put his hand on your thigh, maybe even hold your hand.

He gets a call from you in the middle of the night, asking if you could meet up and do something to distract you from your stressful life. He's outside within 20 minutes, wearing that jacket he usually does when it's cold outside and leaning against his car. He takes a look at your clothes, undressing you with those eyes of his that you find yourself staring into.

"Where are we going?" you asked as you slumped into the car seat.

"I don't know. We'll see, angel."

You pull up to a convenience store, one with shitty lighting. He gets out and buys two bottles of soda and gives one to you. You guess this is where you're hanging out now. You sip your drink, chewing on the straw as you watch him text on his phone. Surprisingly, he asks what's got you so stressed out. You hesitate, fearing he might be asking a rhetorical question. But when he looks at you with those eyes, you slowly let yourself open up.

You're in the back seat, losing what's left of your innocence with him. He's rough, he is a tough guy after all. But you can't help but melt when he gently pulls you closer, getting you more comfortable to lie flat on the seats than have your head pressing against the car door. It's times like these where you forget how stressful life is and how good it is to just, feel. You hated how draining life had to be, all you wanted was this- No, all you ever wanted was him. Him and his bitchy attitude. Him and his "do I look like I give a fuck". Him. His hair, his body, his voice. You wanted him. The question was if he wanted you.

As you're fixing you're ruined makeup he drags a finger across your lips, purposely messing it up. You swat his hand away, before angrily putting on another layer of lipstick. He chuckles as he leans back, watching you again. You couldn't help but feel giddy, it's like he's your lover. Oh, how you wanted him to be your boyfriend. You were almost desperate. But even if the feelings were mutual, life is full of shit and the consequences would have you drowning in even more problems.

You're home, now. His fingers tap against the wheel. You don't move, wondering how you can still drag the time.

"Something the matter?" he asks

Shit, does he know what you're doing? You shake your head.

"Ya' want another round?" he asked, smirking. You smack him, mumbling about being busy tomorrow and not having time to limp around. He grabs your wrists, yanking you to his face. Lips inches apart, you could feel his hot breath.

"No kiss goodbye? A bit mean, especially from a sweetheart like you." he whispered.

You pressed your lips onto his, cupping his face and pulling him close. He doesn't hesitate, not even for a moment. He runs his fingers through your hair, before settling on your face. You pull away, breathless now.

"Goodnight, angel. Call me if you need anything."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Dolly's note: was listening to diet pepsi by Addison Rae and got inspired. Also because there's this person i really like but i shouldn't lmfao. Do yall relate to me or am i just cray cray?

[innorogers]

Reverie

Steve Rogers x Reader (You)

Summary: Steve doesn't care about you past, but he is hesitating if he should take things further. Until he saw that punk trying to make a move on you...wait, did he say his name is Walker? John Fucking Walker?!

Warning: Minors DNI / Minors DNI / First Time / First Date / Fluff? / Smut / Unprotected Sex /

Characters: Natasha, Tony, OCs, John Walker, Timeline is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive.

Also: You don't have to read the previous two chapters, but it would enhance the experience if you did. And thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️

Chapter 1: Insomnia | Chapter 2: Lucid

"We'd better get going…" you panted between breaths, your words more moans and whispers than actual sentences. As his lips moved further into your skin, the glasses of the windows grow foggier and steamed.

"...I know... we should," he replied, marking your collarbone with his voice hoarse and raspy. One hand pressed against your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his hip, while the other tangled in your hair. "I just don’t think I can…" he muttered, kissing your breast and leaving love marks, sucking and soothing them.

Me neither. You thought to yourself while grabbing his head to pull him closer. And I don't want to.

But the car horns honked twice outside the building, jolting Steve to a halt.

"Shit, I don’t think we’re getting away with this..." he sighs, breathing heavily as he rested his head on your shoulder, trying to calm his body. It was hard, though, especially with you looking the way you did—hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, forehead damp, and lips swollen. Goddamn, you are sexy as fuck. Your shirt was half-torn, shoulders marked with bites, and you were panting in a way that drove him wild.

"We need to..." He tried to button up your shirt but sighed and gave up. Honestly, he wanted to do the opposite.

You laughed, fixing his messy hair. Jumping off the desk, helped straighten his collar. "There." You smiled up at him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "As much as I want to stay, we’d better hurry."

"I know, I know..." Steve grumbled as the car honked again. "Do you need to change?" he asked, adjusting his shirt and glancing at the waiting car.

"Nope, thank goodness for this," you said, grabbing your lab coat. "Or it would be too obvious." You covered yourself and smoothed out your clothes.

"Too obvious of what?" he teased. "You think they’ll suspect something?"

"Well... no." You quickly got ready and helped him by tugging the back of his shirt. "I doubt anyone expects us to show up together—they’ll just think it’s a coincidence."

"Tony knows. That’s why he sent the damn car." Steve scoffed, taking your hand as he led you outside, opening the door for you.

"In his defense, this meeting was set two weeks ago." You smiled, taking his hand once seated, fingers intertwined as you sighed contentedly. "I just forgot because I was... very distracted."

The car began moving, thankfully driverless and on autopilot, giving Steve the chance to take your hand again. The cool AC calmed both of you, letting you think more clearly. You tried to focus on the upcoming meeting, but it was impossible when he started kissing your fingers.

"He wants us to concentrate and send a car with no driver?" Steve grinned as the campus blurred by. “He is challenging my imagination.”

"Maybe no one wants to see what’s happening here," you whispered in his ear, as if anyone could hear. "Or we'd have to kill them afterward."

He laughed, finally relaxing, just holding your hand and gazing out the window.

You tried too, looking at the passing green grass and buildings, but your eyes kept drifting to him. And your mind is going wild. 

OMG what you’ve done, and what's happening here.

You and Steve had only met two days ago on the training field at midnight. Both of you were suffering from insomnia, and what began as a friendly, slightly naïve conversation to help each other sleep turned into the best night of your lives. 

And now... this.

Well, you weren’t sure what "this" was. 

After that night, he walked you to your room, kissed you goodnight, and probably went straight to read your file. 

Then, the next thing you knew, he showed up at your secluded lab and kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

Until your boss/friend Mr. Stark interrupted you from heading a home run all the way, by calling to remind you there were cameras everywhere and that PG-18 scenes should be saved for after hours or, better yet, off-campus. 

He also kindly reminded you that the meeting both of you were expected was in 20 minutes. And just in case you "got carried away and lost track of time," his words, he sent the car.

After a few seconds of silence, as you try to make sense of things, Steve suddenly realizes: "I don’t even remember what this meeting is about."

"It’s not a meeting. Technically, it’s a... how’d you call it? Hmm... an opening ceremony?" You repeat the words Tony used when he walked you through it. 

"Important people from important groups are coming to visit around, and to make peace after the Blip. They’re deploying their heavy hitters, so all our level 3s have to be there."

"And you’re... level... 2?" Steve asked, trying to recall. He had read your file but only focused on some key details of your past, not the present.

"I’m a level A," you chuckled at Steve’s 'is that even a thing?' expression and explained, "Just like Peter Parker. I have access to everything, as long as Tony wants me to."

"Oh... and... why do you need to be there?" Steve wanted to know more, but as the car approached the destination, he could see people walking toward the grand hall.

"Well, I’m not expected by the guests, but by Tony. And you know what they say: the most dangerous place is the safest. After all, I’m not exactly on their 'white list'..."

You saw his expression change, and he tightened his grip on your hand. "You shouldn’t be hiding. You didn’t do anything wrong."

"I didn’t?" You looked into his eyes, and he didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t had the time, or the courage, to read your full file. He was just following his instincts about you, his feelings, and his heart.

"But still, I don’t think they’re ready for 'this'." You gestured to your intertwined hands. 

"And this shouldn’t be the topic of today’s conversation. I think this event is more about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ kinda stuff…"

That made him laugh. He leaned his head back against the seat, muttering softly, "I wouldn’t care if they saw us."

"Eventually." You smiled at him. "And there’s something sexy about keeping it a secret, Captain." You sit in closer. "I like it." You blinked, motioning to the people passing by the car. 

"When they’re out there... and they don’t know... about this." Then you leaned forward to give him a kiss.

Steve’s body tensed at the touch of your lips, so you immediately pulled back, thinking you were pushing too far. 

"Yeah you are right, I’m sorry, they might have seen us..." You nervously glanced outside. "Although these windows..." and before you could finish, he grabbed you by the shoulders and kissed you deeply and fiercely, leaving you breathless.

"You’re right," he whispered, his voice low and ragged, as he bites your lower lip. "It is sexy. I love when you do things like this...it drives me crazy..."

“Oh…” your face was burning: “That’s settled then.” And you see the car is about to enter the parking lot arriving at its destination: “Can we do that again?”

Steve let out a loud chuckle before leaning over and kissed you gently: “Yes ma’am.” 

To be honest, he doesn’t know what he is doing either.

As soon as Steves leaves you – You’ve finally decided to enter the compound separately, but not before he kissed you deep and hard in the elevator – His mind starts to clear. Senses are coming back to him.

As one of the greatest military tacticians in history, Steve acknowledges your past: a Hydra experiment, held captive your entire life until your escape and rescue; he knows you weren’t brainwashed, but borned and raised under Hydra’s control, and yes, he met you just two days ago.

His reasonable mind is making a lot of rational thinking as the military savant he is, and his strategies have always been like complex webs of logic, each thread delicately woven to ensure victory, while his enemies find themselves ensnared before they even realize it.

So yeah, he should be analyzing you, reading your file, investigating your past, predicting your moves—or at the very least, watching you closely to see if any remnants of Hydra remain.

But instead…

He can’t take his eyes off you.

You were steps ahead of him, and he felt like seeing you through those large professional lenses, where all the background is blurred in macro, drawing circles of light, and only your silhouette is sharpened.

You were smiling and nodding to people saying hi to you, a little bit shy, somehow oddly adorable... He was in awe. Some folks saluted you as if with…respect? He observed quietly. He even saw a lab guy saying to his teammate something like 'omg she said hi back to me'.

What's your superpower, Steve wondered. 

He’s sure he never noticed you before (how could he have missed you?), and he's certain you’ve never been on a mission together.

Suddenly, someone with a lab coat runs by your side, all excited as if they've drunk ten coffees in a row. 

"Dr. Lancaster, Dr. Lancaster? I figured it out..." He shows you an iPad, and Steve can see how everyone around you is pretending to be minding their own business but is actually listening to the conversation.

“…If we could modify the energy matrix in the arc reactor, we could potentially bypass the Coulomb barrier altogether…we can be talking about cold fusion without the magnetic confinement…!” The lab guy seems all over the clouds.

“Oh.” You look surprised yet shy, you sweep your hair back: “um…How do you plan on stabilizing the reaction without the electromagnetic field imploding?”

“I knew you’d get it!” The tech was so excited he nearly dropped his glasses: “What if we shift the reactor’s frequency to align with zero-point energy fluctuations?” He was jumping all over the place: “The Casimir effect could, theoretically, counterbalance the repulsion long enough to initiate fusion. No magnetic field required!”

“You wanna um…tapping into the vacuum energy of the quantum field to power the reaction?” You look amazed but concerned: “I mean, sure, theory holds, but the amount of energy you’d need to harness would be… astronomical. How do you prevent runaway entropy?”

“If you can artificially create a gravitational lens, focus the zero-point fluctuations and keep them from destabilizing. That’s how I did it.” A voice chimes in from behind. 

Tony, hands in his fancy suit pockets, shrugs and taps his watch. "Five minutes everyone, or you'll miss the warm-up act."

When everyone hears the big boss, they start walking faster toward the compound. 

Tony glances at you and the lab tech. “Test that theory using vibranium as the containment medium. It can store large amounts of kinetic energy without degrading, so you won’t vaporize this whole place. The first prototype is broken and used, so…we can get another one. And honey…” He turns to you and, with a glance at Steve, sighs in irritation. “Ugh... forget it.”

Tony walks past Steve and whispers as they head inside, "Ten minutes late. That’s a first."

“And worth every second,” Steve replies, giving you a final glance, smiling as he notices your blush.

“So... what’s her talent?” he asks once they’re a bit further away.“Being super smart?” 

It sounded sarcastic but he was super serious. Steve might’ve once thought being smart wasn’t a superpower, but after witnessing what Tony and Bruce can do, he now knows it’s one of the most powerful things of all.

“Yeah ‘smart’ is not even close, ‘brilliant’, or ‘magnificently intelligent’ would be the right words, and also…not that’s that important, but um…” Tony makes that typical ‘not a big deal’ face, trying to play it off.

“She…um…She possesses bio-synthetic ocular emitters that generate and manipulate high-frequency electromagnetic radiation across a variable spectrum, allowing her to penetrate solid matter and perceive stratified atomic structures and molecular compositions in real-time, facilitated by a neuro-integrated quantum processing cortex that reconstructs layered 3D imaging at the subatomic level with unparalleled precision."

Tony winks at Steve. And then rolls his eyes and says: “She’s got some kinda X-ray vision that lets her see the layers and components of things.”

“Couldn’t you just say that…”

They walk past the people and head backstage, where the team and a bunch of other people are waiting. Steve knows they won't be able to continue the conversation due to all the smart chat they'll need to do with these VIPs, so he stops before entering the room.

He needs to ask the most important question.

“Why did you keep her? Nat said you went through hell to keep her out of the feds' reach. Why?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smirk. Oh, Rogers, you’re falling hard, huh? He blinks at Steve. 

“Do you want me to be brutally honest?”

“Don’t I always?”

Iron Man started counting: “First, I genuinely think that someone with those powers would be highly prejudicial and harmful if she is on any side but ours. Second, I like her, well, not in the same way you like 'like' her...…but she is good, she is…” He tries to find a word: “Selfless. That makes me nuts, cause when you have no human ambition, what you gonna do to be a keeper, right?  Aaaand third, she asked. So...”

He shrugged his shoulders and started thinking aloud and spoke quickly as Tony always does. “You know what? This is perfect, yeah, so…I’ve struggled…no, never mind, this is perfect. Yeah ok, we gotta go…” 

He tilts his head toward Pepper, who’s staring at him. “Before I get locked out tonight.”

Steve has a hundred more questions, but when he sees Maria giving him the same look Pepper is giving Tony, along with all those important suits waiting, he gives in. “Yeah... right. The heavy hitters.”

The "heavy hitters" weren’t just important people from important organizations. 

There was the Secretary of Defense, a bunch of senators, generals and colonels from the U.S. Army, the National Security Advisor—whatever the title is—Wakandan generals, CIA directors and their agents, and a whole lot of U.S. soldiers.

Steve was impressed, not by their presence, but because he had completely forgotten this event was on the agenda. And the reason for that? You.

Yeah the whole speeches, panels, interactions were just as you said, about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ blah blah blah, Steve wasn’t even listening. Who gives a damn.

His thoughts were elsewhere.

He was focused on you, and his mind was a mess.

So you can see through solid objects, huh? Does that work on people too? Do you see him as a walking skeleton? Is your power what makes you so smart, or were you always brilliant and Hydra just added the ability? Are you free tonight? What did you mean when you asked if he “considered taking this thing further”? Further to where? To like a date, or further as…forever?  Is that a love bite on your neck? Did he do that? God, you look stunning with your hair like that...

“If your gaze were a lightsaber, that poor girl would be ashes by now,” Natasha whispered as she leaned over to Steve. “Would you stop? It’s really weird.”

Steve chuckled, trying to put on a serious face, but he couldn’t help himself. He glanced at the speaker on stage, doing his best to focus.

It was a struggle, though. From what he knew about you, you came across as socially naive, unworldly even, with a deep trust in others. He was tempted but didn’t want to do anything that might feel like he was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

But…he’s doing it again, staring at you from afar, you look so adorable, damn it. Your hair is still a little messy, standing in the crowd and biting your thumbnail like a bored student waiting for the bell to ring.

You caught his stare, your eyes flicking up, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at you. He mouthed a ‘I miss you’, and your heart raced so fast you dropped your phone. Someone passing by picked it up for you, and you probably mumbled something like “'ank you” cheeks blazing so red you couldn’t even make eye contact or finish the sentence.

Steve forced himself to look away, but the grin wouldn’t leave his face. His expression must have been strange because even the speaker started to turn red. 

Natasha nudged him with an elbow, and they both smiled at the poor guy, who was now panicking under the combined stares of Captain America and Black Widow.

“Hey…” Steve overheard a voice behind him.

“Do you know who that girl is?” The guy who picked your phone up—some military man—was talking to his teammate, he was several rows behind and talking low but Steve could hear it anyway.

“Who? Where?” his companion asked.

“That one, I just picked up her phone. There…in the second row.”

“Oh! That one? That’s…” The team mate teased: “…someone completely out of your league.”

“Shut up.” The guy chuckled: “I’m gonna give it a try anyway. I’ll ask for her number. Damn that’s the most beautiful girl I’ve seen.”

Ok. Steve clenched his jaw. Fuck chivalry. He was done worrying about your social skills. Maybe it was time to take your advice and take things further. Or he could have Jarvis or Friday change your number...

“I bet you don’t get it.” A third voice joined the conversation. "Hoskins is right, Walker. She’s out of your league."

Did he just said, Walker? Steve’s eyes widened as his fists tightened.

“Yeah John, first round you don’t get it.”

“Well…” John laughs, “Guess you’ll be buying two rounds for me and my date tonight.”

In your fucking dreams, Walker. Stay the fuck away from my girl. Steve pulled out his phone. Not even thinking about how you’d gone from "who is she?" and "what are her powers?" to "my girl."

A message from an unknown sender just popped up on your screen.

"What are you doing tonight?"

You frowned. Who is this?

You usually don't give your number to others. Mainly because you don't actually know your number (you don't have enough social events to bother remembering it). Plus, it’s in the public records for investigation departments, in case someone from work needs it. Cause who else would need it?

You glanced around. A few colleagues were watching you, but none gave any obvious signs of being the sender. 

Just in case, you replied: "Testing in the lab." The task Tony had given you earlier sounded promising, and you’re eager to give it a try.

"Can I join you?" The reply comes almost instantly. Must be Dr. Lin then—it’s his discovery, after all. Makes sense.

"Sure." you reply.

"Anything you’d prefer for dinner?"

Oh. No, wait. Now you're uncertain. When was the last time Dr. Lin had anything but organic food? The guy counts calories in every meal since you’ve known him.

"Who is this?"

Steve let out a loud laugh, and everyone stared at him, especially the speaker on stage, who was in the middle of a serious and tragic speech and was going through the emotional part.

"Stop it." Natasha shook her head, warning him in a whisper while smiling at the speaker. "Just stop it."

Tony rolled his eyes in the front row. Ugh, lovefools.

But Steve couldn’t stop laughing, and he didn’t stop messaging you.

"I’m your date, if you’ll have me."

"Oh. Mike? Sorry, I didn’t have your number."

His laugh stopped.

"Just kidding, Cap. I’ll have whatever you want ;)"

Oh damn, you got him. His heart leaped back into place. Steve looked up and spotted you, blushing as you put your phone away. He felt like giving a big smile but held back—for the poor speaker’s sake, who had already been tortured enough.

"A date it is." he replied. He considered adding an emoji, but nope—he didn’t know how that worked.

So, "whatever you want", huh? What should he bring? Did you mention anything about your preferences the night you met? Italian? Chinese? Thai? Japanese?

"Is there..." he asked Nat, his voice low enough only she could hear, "any good takeout within five minutes?"

Natasha was about to answer when her phone buzzed with a message from Tony: "Tell Rogers to knock it off." 

So they both put on their best serious faces and listened to the rest of the speech. Luckily, it was short, and Steve applauded harder than he should, just to make up for his weird behavior throughout.

"If you go straight to her." Once the whole thing was over, Natasha said softly in a voice only he could hear, "it’ll be too obvious. And Tony and Rhodey will shoot lasers from their eyes to your ass, stay put, this is important."

"I know." Steve smiled, shook hands with some senator, and stuck around for a bit of small talk, though his attention was elsewhere. 

He spotted John Walker approaching you. So moving without drawing attention, Steve shifted the group he was with closer to you.

He hated to admit it, but John Walker? The guy was fine. In that military uniform, with all those badges, he could probably charm any girl—if this wasn’t a hall full of superheroes. Steve listened carefully through the room’s noise, trying to catch your conversation.

Of course, you had no idea.

You didn’t know someone was nearby, standing and staring at you. You were too busy smiling at your phone like an idiot.

"Excuse me. What?" you asked when this guy repeated himself. The hall was full of chatter, so you had to get closer to hear.

"John Walker, ma’am." He flashed a bright smile, but you weren’t looking.

"Oh." You recognized him as the guy who picked up your phone earlier, and a blush crept onto your face as you recalled how clumsy you’d been, dropping your phone because Steve had smiled at you. 

"Oh... yeah, um, I’m Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster. Thank you for that... Captain?" You weren’t sure about his rank, guessing based on the uniform.

"Nice to meet you, Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster." He widened his smile, mistaking your blush for something else, and shook your hand. "Well... since I rescued your phone, any chance I could get your number?"

"Aw!" Steve’s hand suddenly clamped down on some poor guy’s during a handshake. "Quite a grip you’ve got there, Cap."

 "I beg your pardon." Steve forced a smile through clenched teeth, still listening to your conversation.

"Oh..." Now you were blushing for real. "Um..." You were trying to figure out how to get out of this awkward situation. 

Not only because you didn’t know your number, but also because you didn’t want to give it to Captain Walker. 

You thought fast and came up with the first lame excuse that popped into your head.

"I can’t. " 

You look at him with your most innocent and serious face. You sound so sincere and genuine.

"It’s confidential."

Steve let out a burst of laughter. That’s my girl. The senator in front of him—yes, the same one he had been teasing through the whole event—went pale. He was telling another moving story about his experience during the Blip when Captain America giggled. 

Tony threw an arm around Steve’s neck and mumbled in a warning tone: "What. Is. Wrong. With. You?"

"I’m so sorry." Steve hurried after the poor man, trying to keep a straight face. "Come on, Senator Kingsley...I’m sorry…" 

As soon as John Walker’s attention shifted to Steve, you took a step back and mumbled something like, "Um... Nice to meet you, Captain Walker. Gotta go."

"Yeah, what? Yeah, sure..." Walker turned around, but you were long gone before he could come up with a smart reply.

Of course, you had to go—you had a date.

Two hours later, the idea was still circling in your mind. But...

"What am I wearing?" you suddenly blurted out.

"...What?" Dr. Lin looked at you, confused. "Now? A white coat…" 

He was just in a very inspirational speech about the theory of a quantum anchor to handle subatomic fluctuations when you interrupted with that.

You thought for a second, then decided you didn’t give a shit about the possibility of opening a wormhole that could deviate spatial-temporal coordinates or create a cascading paradox that unravels dimensions as you know them. You cared more about the upcoming date.

It was not just a date, it was the date.

So you took a deep breath, looked at your colleague seriously, and said, "I have a date, Dr. Lin. And I don’t know what to wear because I’ve never had one."

"Oh..." Dr. Lin looked you over. "That’s not a surprise, Dr. Lancaster." He whispered something like, "We should have known... you live and breathe only in this lab... just like your plants."

"I don’t have... anything." You spread your hands. "He’s coming to my lab in a few hours... should I...?" burn all my clothes and buy new ones? No way you’d make it in time.

"Well." He gave you a ‘what are you gonna do’ face and circled you. "Mm... not much we can do, actually. Here, lift your hair. No, not all of it, leave some strands. Yes..." He took off your glasses. "Do you have lipstick? No?! You don’t? Girl... GOD. Um... okay."

He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a chapstick. "Here. This is cherry. I don’t know... um... oh, and this!" He handed you a bottle. "Put this on."

"What is this?" You opened the tube, sniffing it. "Perfume?"

"Better. This, Dr. Lancaster, is the Felix Felicis of perfumes."

"Like... in Harry Potter?"

"Theoretically, this is a chemical liquid compound that exhibits adaptive olfactory reactivity, dynamically modulating its molecular structure upon detecting neurochemical feedback from the subject's sensory receptors, thereby... transforming into the individual's most psychologically favored aromatic profile." He grinned like a proud scientist.

"So, it’s a magic liquid that becomes your favorite scent when you smell it?"

"Not favorite, Dr. Lancaster. The most arousing smell." Dr. Lin’s eyes lit up as he introduced his invention. 

"Girl, put this on, I guarantee, he’ll be all over you. And call me Robert, I beg you.”

"Is that..." You raised an eyebrow. "Is that even legal?" And this was Steve you were talking about—the guy had senses times four.

"Oh come on, just use one drop." Dr. Lin dabbed a bit on his finger and tapped it on your neck. "There. I don’t think he’ll even notice, but just in case..."

"Oh. Okay." You still didn’t know what to expect.

"Look, I’ll leave you to it then." Dr. Lin—no, Robert—gathered his things. "Enough testing for today. And you’re gonna tell me all about it on Monday, okay? Oh, and Dr. Lancaster..." 

He glanced around your lab. "This is perfect. Private, secluded... just make sure to put away all the explosive liquids you have around... ok? See ya!"

“Oh.” You glance around too. Yeah, that’s a great point, you nod as you wave goodbye to a very excited Dr. Lin, still not having a clue what you’re supposed to do. So, you do what you do best: you work.

You do a little bit of cleaning, organizing; the place looks amazing, at least from your point of view, and since you had time, you start another round of testing.

You don’t even notice when Steve walks in, with the sunset sky behind him and the first stars rising in the north. He’s carrying a basket, and his breath is taken away by the sight of you standing at your workbench, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun, turning the whole room into a glowing, serene golden rose.

He stands there for a while, just watching, taking it all in.

“Cap, are you coming in anytime soon?” you ask, adjusting the metal pieces of the robotic arm. 

“I’m really hungry and tired of pretending I’m so cool with robotics here.”

Steve laughs and sets the basket on the table before wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your hair. “Hey.”

You inhale deeply, finally letting go of the breath you’d been holding since you heard his footsteps. 

“Well, that’s not gonna do.” You smile and give him a proper kiss on the lips. “Yeah, now I’m recharged.”

Steve grins, holding you tighter as he kisses you back. “Yeah, me too.” He deepens the kiss. “God… you smell so good.”

Oh wow. You open your eyes as you return the kiss. Did Dr. Lin’s magic elixir really work this fast?

Well, then there’s a good chance this could go further, right?

Of course he’s taking it further.

Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him. 

Maybe it’s because he’s been thinking about you all day. Maybe it’s because he was so mad and determined to be with you after that punk tried to make a move on you. Or maybe it’s just you—you have this unknown thing that drives him wild.

It's the way you move, the way you smile or talk or breathe or just… exist, that makes him unreasonably and madly… in love.

You finish dinner (a unanimously voted menu by the whole team—who knew the Avengers were so bored?), and are just starting on the cold white wine when he tries to wipe some ice cream from your lips. The next thing you know… you’re all over the couch.

Well, you started it, you think as he hovers over you. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have bitten his thumb when he was caressing your lips, or maybe you shouldn’t have breathed so heavily while he was kissing you and roaming over your body. Maybe you shouldn’t have whispered his name like that… but oh god, who cares? It feels so good.

“We should…” Stop. Steve tries to pull out his rational side, but his hands are far too busy running down your side, lingering on your hip.

“Go to bed?” You’re panting and shivering, your hands on his neck and his back, trying to pull him closer. “There’s, um… a bedroom right at the back, and… it has a beautiful garden view.” As if that mattered now at all.

Steve lets out a soft chuckle, resting his head on your neck. Then, after a pause, he lifts himself slightly, creating some space between you two.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… there’s no coming back from that. Are you…” He gasps, caressing your face. “And if we don’t do anything, it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“And…” You sit up straight, looking at him, intrigued. “How… how do you feel about me?”

“It feels...” He thinks for a moment, intertwining your fingers with his and giving you a soft smile.

“Correct. Right. Complete.” He kisses your fingers, then looks up at you. “You make me feel complete.” He paused: “And you?”

You stay there for a moment in silence, glancing at him.

“Like…”

You try to describe it with nice words but you can’t.

“It's like my heart is so full, I can’t take it anymore…” You inhale as if you're feeling it right now and smile. “Like all the stars have fallen to one place and are shining too brightly.”

There's a moment of quiet before Steve speaks, his voice soft, like making a wish.

“I wish I’d found you sooner. I wish… I could’ve spent all the years I’ve been here with you.”

“This is perfect.” You kiss him with a smile, gentle and devoted. 

“Everything is perfect.”

He smiles and kisses you back, gently cupping your face in his hands, his touch filled with tenderness and love. But as the kiss deepens, Steve feels like he's burning. 

Everything about you is a vortex of sensations: his mind fuzzy, your warm body in his arms, your hair smelling of white roses, your sweet breath, your lips, and your tongue. He pulls you closer, one hand sliding down to rest on your hip, rougher than before, his lips moving more insistently. He doesn’t want to stop; he needs to feel more of you.

“If you’re not stopping…” He hesitates. “I don’t think I can …”

“I don’t want you to.” You sit on his lap, holding him close, fingers in his hair, whispering.

Steve lets out a shaky exhale, his voice a little rougher than usual, his gaze locked onto you like a lifeline.

“Are you sure?”

“…Steve…” Your voice is almost a plea. “Please don’t make me beg…”

And that does it.

Steve lets your request override any other thought. His tongue explores your mouth, hungrily claiming it as his own. One hand grips your hip, pulling your body flush against his. His mind is a mess, tangled with desire and excitement, everything around him melting away except for you. He leans into you more, guiding you back until your hips hit the nearest wall, pinning you there.

“Where's the bed?” he whispers in your ear. You stretch out your arm and point in the right direction.

“Hold on tight.” He smiles as he carries you to the room at the back and can’t help but awe when he arrives.

“Oh, so it was true. It has an amazing view.” He admires the floor-to-ceiling window with the garden in full bloom outside, bathed in a violet and blue sunset.

You laugh between the pillows. “Would you mind… saving that for later?”

Steve chuckles as he comes back to your lips and your arms: “I’m sorry…” his fingers follows the line of your body, pressing one in your waist and the other interlocking with yours: “I promise nothing will distract me from you now…” 

He was feeling the surge of his powers –  everything was enhanced: the scent of you on the bed sheets, the shivers running through your skin at his touch, the way your hair brushed against him, and the intoxicating sound of your voice…his body was reacting accordingly, and it was impossible to hold back. 

Especially when you kicked off your clothes and he could feel the whole of you: your skin silky and warm, the jasmine scent from your bath lingering. He was utterly lost in lust.

He feels his heart racing, his breath coming in short gasps, his hands guiding you with slow, deliberate movements, trying to hold onto some control despite the intensity of his desire. 

He interlocks your hand with his, while the other holds your face. He can’t look away from your gaze as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, sparking a wildfire of need within him. He whispers your name against your lips, his voice thick with hunger and longing.

“I don’t think I can’t hold back any longer…”

You gasp, drowning in a whirlwind of emotion: “Please don’t hold back…anything...” And you feel him to complete you, his fingers entwined with yours, murmuring something before sealing you with a kiss.

The moment he was in you was overwhelming, but you wouldn't recall the pain.

You were filled with sensations, having his lips in your ears, the fierce pressure of his fingers interlaced with yours, his body as close to yours as it could possibly be. Every centimeter of your being was united with his, melting into his warmth.

You felt him everywhere. In the intense gaze he held as he moved in a pace to match your pleasure, in his low moans and groans,in the droplets of sweat falling from his body onto yours, in his shivers and trembling, in the way he pressed his hand in your waist and marked every movement as he was lost in lust.

“God…” 

Oh no, Steve was not lost, he was drunk in a haze of pleasure and need. 

He had this urge of possession, hunger of dominance, mixed with the overwhelming and insatiable need of you.

He looks at you. Your watery eyes glistening with pleasure and desire, your moaning lips, red and swollen, naked body covered by a thin sweat and marks he left in your collarbone, in your shoulders and breasts, you dig your fingers into his skin, the sounds of your moans filling his ears and driving him even wilder.

“Please don’t stop…” 

God that begging tone of yours, he just can’t take it, he needs more.

“Steve…” You whispered again, your hands cupping his face. His breath mingled with yours as he leaned in closer: “please…don't stop…”

Steve moaned, his brain short-circuiting momentarily at your words, the sound of your voice begging it drives him wild with need and desire. 

He tightens his grip on your hips, his movements becoming rougher and rougher as you beg for him and you are lost in his fastened paces, and he knows you are close, the moans that’re leaving your lips driving him mad.

“Babe you are driving me insane…” He can't hold back his low growl as you whisper in his ear, his movements becoming more urgent and rough as he pushes you harder, his hands gripping your thighs tighter as he gives you what you ask for, pulling you closer and closer, and he can’t help to moan as he looks at you reaching your climax: “Yeah baby that’s it…I got you…” 

You gave in as he kissed you and the bed knocked so hard against the wall, Steve’s senses are coming to an edge too as you finally reach the limit, your moan is the most perfect and most pleasing thing he’s ever heard. 

He murmurs your name on the verge of losing control, so you press your whole body to him as helping to be there, Steve’s mind suddenly goes blank as the pleasure takes over, every sense, every nerve ending consumed by ecstasy. 

He cums long and warm inside you, and that alone makes you feel you could come all over again. 

His words strangled groans of pleasure. He looks down at you, completely at your mercy, eyes hazy, filled with pure, unadulterated ecstasy as he tries to speak, but you seal his words with a deep kiss. 

“That was…” His breaths came in hard and fast: “That felt…”

“Complete.” You finish the sentence for him.

Complete. He used the right word. That’s how you felt. 

He laughs and falls on top of you, cupping your face and kissing your chin, removing stands of sweaty hair from your face. 

His chest is rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, his body still quivering from the intensity of the orgasm. 

" I... I've never experienced anything like that…You were incredible…You're incredible…"

You were panting too. But you were also reacting over his kisses.

Oh damn, Dr. Lin’s felix felicis worked just fine.

“So…um…” You couldn’t catch your breath: “You do have…Saturdays off, right? Does…the Avengers get that? Weekends?”

“What?” He was already laughing when you asked, but still nodded: “Yeah I have time…”

“And…how fast does your serum work? Do you need to like…some hours to recover?” 

“What?” Steve can't help but let out a laugh at your question. You marvelous, adorable, perfect girl. You are the woman of his dreams. 

He leans in to kiss you. Yes, complete. That’s definitely the word. He had never felt this way with anyone before, but when he was with you, everything seemed to align, as if the universe had conspired to bring you both to this moment, to this connection. He felt like a lost star in the universe finally finding its way home.

“Hours?” He kisses your neck and starts to go down: “babe…you might be a genius...but I really need to show you how this serum works for me…hours? Please don’t underestimate me…” 

His hands starting to caress your body, cupping your breasts and leaving a trace of kisses, feeling you reacting at the same time that he was getting hard again, still inside of you. 

You let out a soft, deep moan, your body responding instantly to his touch, your eyes lost in lust again.

“Steve…” 

He loves that begging moan, he was so ready to hear it again. And he was going to make you to do that all night long. 

“The night is young.” He positions his hands in your waist, holding you tight, as he presses himself again inside of you, harder than the first time, his eyes locked on yours as he speaks: “And I’m glad for it.”

“Dr. Lin? um…Robert?” You knocked your colleague’s lab door on Monday, with a gift basket and a bottle of wine.

“Heeeeyyyy…” He was so happy to see you, Dr. Lin just turned around from his chair with a curious smirk: “Soooo? How was it? The mysterious date? I can tell you are satisfied…” he was practically singing. 

“Well…” You blushed slightly. 

The “date” has lasted the entire weekend. 

For the first time in your life, you were thankful for the body Hydra had given you, enough to endure and enjoy a weekend of endless lovemaking. 

You think you lost count of your orgasms by Saturday afternoon. But then of course, Sunday was also off, even for the Avengers. So you carried on. 

“Ahem…!” You cleared your throat, offering him the basket with the wine. “I’m just saying the Felix Felicis worked... as expected, even with just a drop.”

“Oh.” Robert's expression shifted. “Oh my gawd, I’m going to hell for this... Honey?” 

He patted your hand as he took off his glasses. “There’s no such thing as Felix Felicis…”

“What?”

“Yeah I lied…It was just a joke.” He made a ‘Sorry, not sorry’ face: “It was just perfumed alcohol.”

“Oh.” You were surprised. “Um... still... that’s just...” 

Wonderful. You couldn’t help but smile, handing him the basket anyway. 

“Thank you so much, Dr. Lin— I mean, Robert. Really, thank you.”

“Ohhh…you’re blushing,” Dr. Lin winks at you. “You look like someone who just discovered the meaning of life.” By going out of that lab and finally having human contact, and not dying there like a potus, he thinks to himself.

You grinned. “Maybe I did.”

“Well, whatever it was, keep that glow. It’s contagious,” he said with a wink before turning around and continuing his work.

“I’ll try my best.” You nodded, smiled at him, and headed back to your lab. You were in the hallway when you received a message from Steve.

“Miss you already,” with a heart emoji.

You sighed and smiled. 

Maybe it wasn’t Felix Felicis, but magic did exist—and it was real every time Steve looked at you like you were the only thing in the universe that mattered.

End but TBD

Yay! That's a wrap on Chapter 3! ❤️ Thank you for reading so far. I apologize if my English isn't perfect; it's not my first (or even second) language.

I hope I got through the intensity and love that was intended. (At least at their first time, should be more about making love than fucking? If that makes sense...?)

Anyway, don't know where to place the timeline, but definitely is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive, aaaand the fact that John is here with Steve in the same place, makes it more interesting :3 (I just love writing jelous Steve)

Hope you liked it! Every feedback is highly appreciated <3

Love.,

Moon.

P.S: Chapter names are all related to dream states ;) I'm posting something every friday :) So see you next friday!!!

[queensunshinee]

His favorite toy- Part 2 || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, oral sex), super toxic relationship.

Word Count: 6.5k

(part 1)

His favorit toy- Part 2:

Two months have passed since the last time Art and I fucked. Although it wouldn’t be fair to call it that, because I don’t fully know what it was. I only know he said he thinks he loves me. Neither of us made the minimal effort to rekindle any kind of relationship. I kept sitting with Janet and Shane, and he stayed in his place next to the friend he invented.

Occasionally, if I focused, I could feel his gaze on the back of my neck, but maybe I was imagining it. Maybe I also imagined his declaration of love, maybe I lost my grip on reality for a moment. Maybe more water needs to flow under this bridge. Maybe Tashi Duncan needs to be his, like he is hers, so I can stop dreaming about him at night. How did I become so dependent on the emotions of a girl I have no desire to exchange a word with? How did I lose someone I’m not sure was ever mine? And more than anything- what made me spend so much time in this endless whining?

A few days after that party, Luke sat next to me in one of the classes we share. He looked so good that if I close my eyes, I can imagine it's Art. A remarkably pathetic thought, but it works. Except he isn’t cruel. He doesn't try to deceive me or lead me to the point he wants me to reach. He’s interested in me and my hobbies, and sometimes he walks me from class to class, but in these two months, he hasn’t made any move beyond placing his hand on my shoulder. Maybe he thinks I have lice. Maybe he thinks I won’t be good enough in bed to risk our boring conversations about the eco-intro professor.

Maggie, the girl I work with, canceled at the last minute, so I ended up alone at the smoothie station and the register. I took comfort in the fact that it's exam season and not too many Stanford students would prefer to stand in line for a smoothie instead of grabbing a spot in the library on a Sunday night. "The usual?" I heard Art’s voice and lifted my gaze from the book I was reading. I blinked at him a few times, as if trying to figure out if I was imagining his smug smile. Maybe it wasn’t smug, maybe that's just how he always smiles when he sees me. Like he knows a secret he’ll never tell me. "I..." I tried to hold onto the reality as I knew it, "I don’t remember," I smiled without showing teeth, half-forced.

"Peach—" he stopped himself in the middle of the stupid nickname. Apparently, he understood from my look that it wasn’t appropriate after two months of radio silence. "Almond milk, banana, pecan, and coconut," he mumbled. "That’s $4.50," he nodded. I wondered if he was surprised, because I’d never asked him to pay before. I’d always used the free smoothie I got during my shift on him. "How a—" he started to speak, and I turned on the blender, seeing out of the corner of my eye that he was smirking and shaking his head. "Fair," he muttered. "Here’s your smoothie. Goodnight," I handed him the cup after a few seconds, with the most forced smile I could muster. He rolled his eyes in response and sat down in one of the empty chairs.

"What do you think you’re doing?" I asked. "Sitting and drinking my smoothie, obviously," he spoke again as if I were two years old. Like I needed him to mediate reality for me because I couldn’t understand it on my own. "Do you see anyone else sitting here?" I asked. "Just because the tables are empty because it’s ten at night and you’re working in a cafeteria-" he began. "This isn’t a cafeteria. It’s the—" "Doesn’t mean I can’t sit at one of the tables and drink my smoothie. Or are there new rules I’m not aware of?" I rolled my eyes in response. Smug dickhead. I was definitely not going to give him a second of my time. I went back to the book I was reading for my philosophy exam, trying to ignore his presence but realizing I was reading the same sentence five times in a row.

"What are you studying?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. "Why are you doing this?" I threw the question back from behind the counter, sighing in frustration. "What am I doing?" The usual smirk was plastered on his face. "Why are you here on a Sunday night, Art?" If I could stomp my foot to express protest, I would. "Because you’re here on a Sunday night." The smirk turned into a smile. I couldn’t tell if it was sincere. I never know if he’s sincere.

"What do you want?" I rolled my eyes and sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to leave. I knew he was stubborn in an almost inspiring way (or nauseating, depending on who you ask) and that he was always at an advantage with me. He always had the last word. All I had left was to let him say it quickly and move on with life. "To ask how you're doing?" he half said, half asked. He sounded hesitant, but I knew he wasn’t. I knew he was as confident as any other day. He knew exactly what he was doing. "Amazing. Anything else?" I found myself crossing my arms under my chest and saw him, without shame, shift his gaze, well… to my chest, raising an eyebrow.

"Arthur!" I felt like I was his aunt as he shook his head, almost playfully. "I missed you, Peaches. Is that so hard to believe?" He chuckled, still completely shameless. "Well, I didn’t." That was the first thing that came to mind, and the face Art made, along with the eye roll, only emphasized how much he didn’t believe me. "Why are you so mad at me?" His voice was amused as he approached the counter with his smoothie, grabbing the book I was reading without asking. "What course is this?" "Philosophy," I snatched it from his hand, and he grabbed mine with the speed of an athlete who works too much with his hands. "Let go," I muttered, not sure if I wanted him to release my hand or release me. But I was scared he'd agree and disappear again, and that was so fucking pathetic. "Never," he replied, keeping his gaze on me and giving my hand a squeeze. "It’s not fair, Art," I hated how my voice sounded. "What’s not fair?" he asked, tracing small circles on my hand the moment he felt me relax the muscle that had been trying to pull away from his touch. "What you're doing right now," I sighed. If he weren’t in front of me, I probably would’ve started crying out of frustration. "What am I doing right now?" The smirk was once again plastered on his face. "Trying to convince me everything's okay between us," I hesitated, and he shook his head from side to side. "Nothing's okay between us, Peaches. I hate it. I actually hate it. I think about you 80% of the day. Every time I want to talk to you, you're either with your friends or with Luke." He wrinkled his nose as he said his name.

"Why do you know his name?" I asked, studying him. "Because I looked him up, and I'm telling you, Peaches, he's fucking weird—" "You're fucking weird," I shot back, and he laughed, trying to move the hair from my face with his free hand. "Well, maybe you like us weird, maybe you've got a type," he tried to joke, making me roll my eyes. "Who said I like you, Donaldson?" I tried to defend myself, and Art wasn’t laughing anymore. He wasn’t smiling either. He just looked at me, not letting me read his expression. His hand, which had been playing with mine, tightened its grip, and his gaze locked onto me as if I was on trial for the words that just came out of my mouth.

"Let’s study for the statistics exam together tomorrow?" He changed the subject, not breaking his intense gaze. "Art—" "Study for the exam. Just that. I won't pass it if you don't help me," he flashed his most charming smile. The one he fakes in seconds. The one he uses for interviews with the Stanford magazine and in photoshoots for the tennis team posters. "Study with Dylan," I suggested, raising an eyebrow, referring to the imaginary friend he chose to sit with instead of me. "You want me to beg?" he asked, poking my shoulder with his finger, causing me to shift slightly but still not letting go of my hand. "Maybe," I teased. "I can. My ego will survive if you study with me for statistics tomorrow." He said it quicker than I expected.

"I have a philosophy exam at eight. Can you do twelve?" I asked. "I can when you can. Where’s the exam? I’ll wait for you," he said. "Meet me at the economics library. There’s a room where you’re allowed to talk if you’re working in groups," I explained my choice. "That’s ridiculous. Let’s study at your place or mine—" "We’ll study at the library, take it or leave it," I stated firmly, even though the temptation to go to his dorm was strong since he never invited me. We always went to mine. "Library it is," he agreed. "What’s your philosophy exam about?" he asked, finally letting go of my hand, which had been holding the book I was studying from. "Aristotle and eudaimonia. What he thinks about happiness," I muttered, opening my notes again. "What does he think about happiness?" Art asked, leaning on the counter. "You wouldn’t get it," I smiled at him, and saw him nod with a somewhat thoughtful look, as if his combative spirit and desire to argue had evaporated the moment I agreed to study statistics with him. "Tomorrow at twelve, Peaches. Don’t break my heart and ditch me," he threw into the air, leaving the booth with the same dramatic flair he had when he entered. . . . I walked into the economics library, which was packed with people. Art was already sitting there, messing with his phone more than with the notes in front of him on the table. He hadn’t noticed I’d entered, giving me the chance to observe him. His blonde curls fell over his eyes in a way that likely bothered him. He was wearing his red tennis outfit (the one I liked the most, I should mention) and looked carefree. He always seemed too relaxed, maybe that’s how it is when everything comes to you with an ease that’s almost disgusting.

"You need a haircut," I muttered the first thing that came to mind as I approached, seeing him look up immediately. "Hey," he said, smiling from ear to ear, "I saved a spot because I knew it’d be crowded," he added. "How long have you been sitting here?" I asked as I took the seat next to him. "Since about ten," he chuckled, probably at himself, "How was the exam?" he asked. "Long. Have you gone over any of the material?" Yesterday, I decided I’d be practical. I’d promised to help him, and honestly, I always understood the material better myself when I explained it to him. And if Art Donaldson could take advantage of my knowledge in statistics, then I could take advantage of the situation too. Not just him. "A little, I pretty much lost track in the middle of the course." Art had taken this course as an elective. I always found it funny because who takes statistics as an extra class when it’s not even required for their degree?

"What, Kevin didn’t let you copy his notes?" I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he lightly tapped my shoulder. "You’re mean. Since when are you so mean?" he responded with a humor I couldn’t fully read, unsure if he was joking or if part of him actually thought there was some cruelty in me. Maybe it was the philosophy exam I couldn’t shake off. Obsessive thoughts about happiness and potential. "I’m going to get myself some coffee, want me to bring you something?" I asked, changing the subject. "Sit down, get settled, I’ll get it for you," he nodded toward me and stood up, not giving me a chance to refuse before he disappeared from my sight, leaving me alone.

Art Donaldson will be the end of me. I’m certain of it. "My brain is fried, Donaldson. I can’t look at any more averages," I summed up after two hours of studying. "Yeah? Already gave up?" he asked, amused. "I remind you that I had an exam today! I don’t think I’ve eaten anything other than my own brain," I tried to remember what I’d actually eaten today. "So let’s go eat something," he smiled. His eyes practically sparkled. "Art," I sighed, resting my head on my hand. "What? We can’t go have lunch?" he asked with mock innocence. Speaking to me again like I was a child. Like I didn’t understand what he’d already figured out long ago. "No, of course not," I wanted to smack him on the head as if he were the dumbest person I knew. "I can’t let you stay hungry, Peaches, my grandmother would be mad at me," he quickly replied. Where was your grandmother every time you humiliated me to the core? Every time you made me feel empty and stupid? So stupid. "Your grandmother will survive," I rolled my eyes. "She’s a very sick woman, you don’t know that. I’ll tell her I let you starve and she’ll have a stroke. You won’t be able to live with that on your conscience. You’ll drag us into lives full of guilt—" "Okay, you’re giving me a headache, God," I mumbled, standing up. Art Donaldson’s smug smile returned to his face in an instant.

That’s how I found myself sitting across from him at the fancy cafeteria for athletes, eating nuggets after the woman working there flirted with him and gave me a threatening look. "Don’t hate Rosie, she always gives me extra pie," he said after I pointed out that she looked at me like I was the reason the Beatles broke up. "Because she wants to sleep with you," I rolled my eyes. "So she has a reason to look at you like that. Makes sense," he replied with a chuckle. "Okay, what is this?" I dropped the nugget I was holding and pointed between us as I leaned back in my chair. "What?" he continued eating as if nothing unusual was happening. "What are you doing, Art?" I asked, feeling my leg start to shake out of frustration.

"I’m eating and making sure you’re eating," he replied, taking another bite of his food, as if we were having a completely normal conversation. "We’re not going to fuck again just because you invited me to eat nuggets at the cafeteria, you know that, right?" I blinked at him, trying to signal that he was delusional. "Of course not," he said, leaning back in his chair as well. "I have principles, Donaldson," I continued. "I know," he smiled. "I’m not some girl you found on the street that you can treat however you want, disappear for two months, invite her for nuggets, and she’ll take off her bra just so you can vanish again until the next time you’re horny," my voice rose a bit, despite my effort to keep it calm. I saw his jaw tighten, his expression shifting from amused to cold. "Is that what you think this is?" he asked, and all I could do was shrug.

"It’s not like you’ve given me any reason to think otherwise, Art," I looked at him and felt that if I stayed there much longer, I’d start crying. "I told you that I lo—" he began, but I stood up. "Thanks for lunch, it’s definitely nicer than the regular cafeteria," I forced a smile, and he closed his eyes. "You didn’t eat anything," he replied. If I focused, maybe I could have seen his frustration growing. But I was trying to focus on not crying. Art Donaldson’s ego didn’t deserve to see me cry over him again. "I’m really tired, I need to sleep a bit before my shift," I mumbled. "Will you come to my match tomorrow?" he asked quietly. "Art—" "You don’t have to, but I’m saving you a seat, okay?" he cut off my answer, not wanting to hear a refusal, maybe not believing there was a bone in my body capable of saying no to him. . . . And it’s a little pathetic how I ended up walking onto the tennis court the next day, giving up the last shred of my self-respect. I was surprised to see how many people showed up to these things, especially at the end of exam season and right before the break. The place was packed.

‘You came’ -A- I got his message and tried to look around, searching for where he might be. ‘Down on the court’ -A- I could practically see his smirk in the words. I glanced toward him and shrugged. ‘Front row, saved you a seat next to Patrick’ -A- he added.

‘What the fuck is Patrick?’ -(Y/N)- I replied, not moving toward where he told me to go.

‘A friend. Please sit there.’ -A- He answered shortly. ‘Want to lift my head and know where you are’ -A- And when he says things like that, I almost forget how cruel he can be. So I find myself rolling my eyes and walking toward the seat he saved for me.

"Are you Patrick?" I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush from the awkward interaction with the guy sitting next to the empty seat. "Depends who’s asking," the curly-haired guy responded, flashing a mischievous half-smile. I can see why they’re friends. Fucking twelve-year-olds in the bodies of twenty-year-olds, how is that even possible?! "Don’t be a dick," we heard from down below, and I turned to see Art approaching us. "Who’s this?" the guy I didn’t know asked, as if I wasn’t standing right there—seriously, rude as hell, but whatever. "Patrick, behave," Art wasn’t joking, not even smiling, scolding him like you’d scold a misbehaving pet. "You came," Art looked me over, grinning from ear to ear. "Don’t let it go to your head, I had some free time," I muttered, sitting down. Art nodded. "Will you stay after the game?" he asked. I think it was the first time Art had to look up to talk to me. "I don’t know, I need to keep studying for statistics," I answered. "Me too," he replied. "We’ll study together," he shrugged, not giving me a chance to respond before he walked off, taking his position. Getting ready to serve.

“Interesting,” the guy next to me said. “What exactly?” I asked, rolling my eyes and still not looking at him. “You, of course,” I could hear him smiling. “What’s so interesting about me?” I kept staring into the air, unsure if I should focus on Art, who still hadn’t started playing, or the phenomenon sitting next to me. Arrogant, just like the blond guy who’s been emotionally torturing me for months. “Well, first of all, I’ve never heard of you. You’re a surprise,” he said as if it was obvious. And it stung a little, even though I knew the chances of Art talking about me were slim to none. “Maybe you’re the problem, Pete,” I muttered, snapping my fingers like I was trying to recall his name. “Patrick,” he corrected, laughing, making me look at him. He had a loud laugh, unapologetic. I knew his name was Patrick, and he knew I knew, but he still found it amusing.

“Maybe you’re the surprise,” I told him. “He doesn’t talk about you either.” I tried to sound unaffected, like everything was fine. The game started, and Art looked distracted. Maybe he always looks like that when he plays tennis- I’ve never watched his games before, he’s never invited me. “You’re supposed to watch the other side too,” Patrick whispered in my ear, causing me to roll my eyes. “Hey, Stats Girl,” I heard the familiar voice of Tashi Duncan just before she sat next to Patrick, cursing the day I decided to trust Art Donaldson and show up at his game. “The one and only,” I muttered with the best smile I could muster, feeling myself blush at the ridiculous nickname she gave me. “How’s he doing?” she asked Patrick. I wondered what their connection was. “He’s good, you know, as usual. Ice.” he replied, and they started talking quietly about the game, about Art, and about the opponent.

All I could think about was how good Art looked. He looked as if everything came to him effortlessly, as if he didn’t need to try for anything—everything just happened. And I knew that wasn’t true, I knew he worked hard, trained, ate properly, invested in his studies, and that he was probably a good grandson and a good friend. He was good to everyone except me. “Are you enjoying the game?” Tashi asked, pulling my gaze away from Art for a moment. “Huh?” I asked, not understanding what she wanted. “The game, are you enjoying it? He’s playing well,” she clarified. “Yeah, he’s really good,” I mumbled. I didn’t know what else to add to make it sound convincing. “Leave her, Tash. She doesn’t know anything about tennis, she’s his cheerleader,” Patrick answered her, snickering. I shot him a murderous look. “Patrick, don’t be rude,” Tashi said, “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know how to behave around people,” she turned to me, as if he wasn’t there. “It’s fine,” I replied, feeling my leg start to shake from the frustration. They went back to talking about the game, and I suddenly felt how pathetic it was, showing up to watch him play. To come and see him in his element, when he wasn’t part of my life anymore. When his friend sat next to me, mocking me to my face. “I’ll be right back…” I mumbled, walking toward the exit. I had no intention of coming back. . . . Two hours later, there were chaotic knocks on my door. “You left,” Art walked in without waiting for an invitation the second I opened the door. He looked angry. “I told you I didn’t know if I’d stay, I have an exam tom-” “Bullshit. What’s your deal? Why did you come?” He practically shouted as I closed the door. “You asked me to come,” I mumbled. “I also asked you to stay, but you left in the middle, so what was the point of you coming?” He crossed his arms. I don’t think I’d ever seen him this angry. He’s always calculated and calm. “Did he say something?” he added, asking a question. “What?” I returned, not understanding what he was talking about. “Patrick, did he say something to you? Why did you leave?” He asked again, speaking to me like I was a child. “He didn’t say anything to me. I left because I didn’t understand what I was even watching. I don’t know anything about tennis, Art, and I have an exam to study for,” I tried to justify. “Enough with that exam. I heard you studying for it yesterday, you know the material, we both know you know it.” He sighed. “I didn’t ask you to come to give tennis commentary. I asked you to come because I wanted you in the crowd. I wanted to see you in the crowd,” he continued. I could hear the effort in his voice to keep it together, to not lose control.

“Tashi was in the crowd; that should be enough for you,” I muttered, lifting my gaze to him, seeing that he was already staring at me. We had never talked like this about Tashi. She had always been this figure hovering above us. He talked about her constantly, unrelated to anything. He talked about her like she was a god. He talked about how she played tennis, about her training, how she helped him. He talked about parties he only went to because Tashi wanted to go. But I never responded in a way that would let him understand that I knew. That I wasn’t completely clueless. That I knew he was completely in love with her. That he loved her the way I loved him and that nothing would change that. “Oh, so that’s the problem. You could’ve started with that. It bothered you that Tashi was in the crowd?” He chuckled. He fucking chuckled. “Why did it bother you?” He moved closer to me, and I had no choice but to avert my gaze from his piercing blue eyes, which felt like bullets at that moment. “It didn’t bother m-” “Look at me.” He was close enough to grab my head and turn it back to face him. “I asked you a question,” he added, not letting me escape. And if there’s anyone I didn’t want to talk about, it’s Tashi Duncan.

“Why did you invite me? Why did you want me in the crowd?” “Because I wanted you to see me play,” he answered without blinking, as if it was obvious. As if there wasn’t a single question I could ask him that he wouldn’t have an answer for. “You love Tashi, Art. You lo-” His lips were on mine the second I said it. Again, there was nothing calm or calculated about this kiss. He was trying to prove that he didn’t, that I was wrong. While we both knew I was right. “You can’t say things like that, Peaches. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbled as he pulled away from me to catch a breath. “It’s okay that you love her. I’ve made peace with it. I just need you to let me move on, Art,” I sighed, trying to catch my breath again. “I don’t fucking love her.” He was angry; I could hear it in his voice. “What do I have to do to make you understand that you’re the only girl for me?” He kissed me again, and I could feel him getting hard from the way he pressed against me, causing me to moan into his mouth. “Yeah? Is this the only way I can get through to you? Is this the only way you believe me?” he asked, running his lips down my neck. "Art," it was half a moan, half a cry. My eyes closed, and as they did, I felt the weight of his hands on my shoulders, pulling me down until I was on my knees in front of him. I unbuttoned his jeans and quickly pulled down his boxers. I felt almost possessed as he sat on the edge of my bed, forcing me to crawl toward him. “There we go. Is this the only way I need to treat you for you to understand your place?” he muttered as I knelt before him again. I felt a light slap on my cheek from his cock, much more humiliating than painful. “I asked you a question,” he continued.

“N-no,” I mumbled. “Even your voice is annoying me right now,” he muttered, and without warning, I felt his cock in my mouth. He didn’t give me a moment to adjust, punishing me for leaving the match, maybe for bringing up Tashi, maybe for everything combined. You could never tell with him. I felt him hitting the back of my throat, and I tried to suppress my gag reflex with little success. Three months since he’d been in my mouth showed signs. “Shhh, you can do better than that,” he half-stroked my hair, half-held me in place by it. Then he pulled me back, leaving a trail of spit and precum. “You’re such a mess,” he chuckled, and again I felt a light slap of his cock against my cheek. I put my lips back where I knew he needed them the most, and this time, there was no gentle stroking of my hair. There was only a hand forcing me to stay in place as he used my mouth however he wanted. “Nothing to say now, huh?” he said, not very coherently, as I began to feel the warm, thick liquid spill into my throat. “Atta girl,” he patted my hair twice before letting me pull back.

I stood up slowly, trying to catch my breath. “Come here,” he mumbled, pointing to his thigh. I can’t refuse Art Donaldson, so I sat on his lap, placing my hands on his neck in an almost embrace, watching him smile. “Why is everything so hard with you?” he muttered, and his lips lazily found my neck. “I just don’t know what you want from me,” I responded, trying to focus on anything other than his lips currently on my collarbone. “I told you I love you,” he mumbled, his eyes locking onto mine. “You don’t mean that,” I shot back.

“Oh yeah?” His smirk spread across his face, and in seconds, he tossed me onto the bed as if I weighed nothing. He was above me. “For now, the one acting like a brat is you,” he said, his presence casting a shadow over me like a predator playing with its prey. “The one who left in the middle of my match is you.” His lips again left trails on my skin. I don’t even know when he took my shirt off. I felt a light bite on my nipple that made me moan. “Fuck, fa- Art,” I mumbled, unable to focus. “The one avoiding interaction with my friends is you.” His hand joined in, starting to torture my other nipple as his kisses moved further down. “I’m not,” I managed to respond, just as he easily removed my panties.

His breaths hovered over my pussy, short and hot, and if I didn’t know Art Donaldson so well, I would’ve thought he was looking up at me with almost a pleading expression. But he was in complete control. A small kiss on my lips, but not where I really needed him, made me shift my hips a little, and he chuckled- a laugh that was almost childlike. “Hey, ask nicely,” he managed to say, and I returned to the position I had before, legs around his head. “Please, Art,” I knew there was no point in arguing; he always got what he wanted in the end. “No problem, baby,” in seconds, his tongue was on my clit, starting slowly with circular motions and picking up speed with every moment. “There you go, you’re almost there,” he muttered, pulling back just before I could come. “What-” I tried to catch my breath again, craving the euphoria only he could give me at that moment. “I want to be inside you,” he answered without waiting for the full question, and in an instant, his cock filled me, making me moan. “Fuck,” I managed to mumble, feeling my eyes roll back. “Hold on a little longer, Peach,” he said, slipping his finger into my mouth like he liked to do, watching my lips close around it. “Now,” he muttered, pushing it deeper into my throat while he thrust into me, feeling me tighten around him like only an orgasm from him could make me do.

He fucked me stupid. There’s no other way to describe what I experienced, and as we both tried to catch our breath, I wondered how long it would take for him to leave this time and what his excuse would be. “Don’t you have practice tomorrow?” I quietly asked, trying to throw him off balance for a moment. “No, but I don’t know anything for the stats exam,” he admitted and chuckled. “Art! I taught you all the material yesterday,” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t concentrate when you’re teaching me.” “Then why did you ask for help?” It was my turn to laugh. “Because you’re the most beautiful when you’re in your element,” he shrugged like it was obvious. Like hearing me talk about statistics would make him fall in love with me. Like it wasn’t what I felt two and a half hours ago when he played tennis, until I almost choked on love.

“When are you going home?” he asked, probably knowing my last exam was in statistics. “I’m not,” I replied casually, and he quickly shifted positions. “Why the hell not?” he asked, and I saw a small wrinkle form between his eyebrows. “It’s no big deal, Donaldson,” I chuckled, “I picked up extra shifts, and I have a paper to work on. Speaking of shifts, I need to get ready for mine.” I added as I checked the time. He watched me as I walked around the room, trying to decide if I smelled too much like sex to push the shower until after work. “Are you coming to the study marathon tomorrow before the exam?” he asked, starting to get dressed too. “Of course,” I looked at him like he was crazy. “Don’t think about skipping it, Art. You need it,” I said, knowing exactly who I was dealing with. “Okay, Mom,” his voice was amused, and I rolled my eyes, looking at him for another moment. We don’t get too many moments like these. Almost domestic. Almost mine.

"Hey, we're good, right?" he suddenly asked, holding my hand and not letting me continue running around the room. "Yeah, Art, everything's fine," I smiled half-heartedly, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Because I don't want another two months like these," he muttered, and I knew it was hard for him to admit. It was hard for him to say that the past two months had been strange, to say the least. Difficult, to be honest. "Me neither." I nodded at him. "When are you flying home?" I asked as we were both already outside the door, after I had locked it. "Four hours after the exam, I’m supposed to be on a flight," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wow, two weeks at home, excited?" I asked. "Not that much, mostly glad I get to visit my grandma. She follows my matches with her entire retirement home, it’s a big deal for her." "Ooooh, you've got fans, Donaldson?" I joked. "You know I do," he replied. "Seriously though, why aren’t you going home?" he added. "It’s not that deep, just an opportunity to make some extra money. Plus, my mom and I aren’t in the best place right now," I shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. "Don’t you miss home?" he asked. "Not like most people probably do," I smiled at him. "I hate it when you smile like that," he said and suddenly stopped. "How?" I asked, looking at him as if he were crazy. "Without teeth. That’s your fake smile," he replied without blinking, as if it were strange that I was even asking. "I didn’t think you noticed," I mumbled. And I really didn’t think there was a possibility that Art Donaldson paid attention to details that, until now, I thought only I noticed about him. "I’ll see you tomorrow at the marathon?" he asked when we reached the point where I was supposed to head to the cafeteria and he to his dorm. "Don’t be late," I ordered, giving his face a small push, watching him chuckle and walk away from me. . . .

The next morning, I woke up with the worst headache I’d ever had in my life. I felt my nose was blocked, and I knew for sure I had a fever, though I had no way to measure it. 'Where are you?' -A-

'Sick, I’ll come for the exam' -(Y/N)-

'What’s wrong with you?' -A- I didn’t respond to that message, preferring to sleep a bit more before waking up for the statistics exam.

I got in the shower, and when I got out, I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing my flushed cheeks as a contrast to my pale face. There was no mistaking it when you looked at me- I wasn’t at my best. The auditorium was partially full when I entered, people chatting among themselves, and I looked around, seeing Art already staring at me before he approached, getting ahead of Janet, who shot me a questioning glance. "Well, you look like shit," he stated, placing his hand on my forehead. "Fuck, Peaches, you’re burning up," he muttered, looking at me with an almost angry expression. "How did you manage to start dying in the minute and a half I left you alone?" he said. "I’m talented, Donaldson. Can you not yell? My head hurts," I mumbled, sitting in the empty seat I found.

The exam went smoothly and ended faster than it began. I physically couldn’t wait for Art to finish, so I texted him, hoping he’d enjoy his time at home, and I went to sleep. Half an hour later, there was a knock at my door, chaotic like the one from the day before. "Hey," he muttered. "You’ll miss your flight," I replied, running a tired hand over my eyes. "I’m not flying," he said quickly. "What?" I asked, not understanding what he was talking about, seeing him take off his shirt and pants, left only in his boxers. "Art, I physically can’t have sex," I chuckled, not understanding what was happening. "We’re going to sleep," he declared, pulling me toward him, leaving me no choice but to get into bed next to him. "Your bed’s worse than mine. Tomorrow we’ll sleep at my dorm," he stated.

"You're going to get sick too" I rolled my eyes, "Why aren’t you going home?" I asked quietly, while his hand traced shapes on my shoulder. "It felt weird going home when you’re sick and staying here," he replied, not ashamed for a second. "Your grandma must be disappointed," I mumbled. "I told her my girlfriend is sick," he said. I wanted so badly to see his face, but I had my back to him. "She must’ve been surprised you have a girlfriend," I said the first thing that came to mind, feeling my heart race. "Not at all, I talk to her about you all the time."

. . .

So here it is. The second part I didn't plan. Hope you like it even tho I wrote half of it while being super sick and didn't check my own grammar at all, so bear with me (a reminder: English is not my first language). Let me know what you think. It's always the best part. Also, I think I'm up for some requests. Let's see what we can come up with. Love you guys

[just-a-ghost00]

Celeb series : channeled advice from your bias' higher self

Group 1

Cards : 2 of coins, 7 of swords, Strength, 3 of pentacles, Death, 9 of wands

Be mindful of the way you spend your time and energy. Of course, work is important but... are you getting any rest? Are you even eating properly? I don't want you to be sick and tired. I don't want you to be exhausted and forced to step away from what you love because of that. You have to be strategic. I know how much of a hard worker you can be. No one can take that away from you and I am proud of you for the efforts you put in your success, your studies, your job. I hope you are proud of yourself too. But remember that you are not alone. You don't have to handle all this pressure on your own. You can count on me too. You can come and rest on my shoulder. I will lend you a bit of my joy and energy if that gives you comfort, if that brightens your day. I would be happy if I could lighten up your load and make your life a little easier. Remember that you are human and you deserve to have fun, to spend time with the people you love and doing the things that make you happy. You were not born to grind yourself to death. You were born to live and laugh and love. Lmao that sounds so cheesy but that's the truth. Hang in there. I know you can do it. I know you have it in you to be the most beautiful and successful being the world has ever known. I believe in you. When you feel down or stressed, please don't mull it over all alone in your corner. Come to me and let's chat it out. Maybe I can help you. Okay? Love you.

Shufflemancy : Are you having any fun? by Elaine Stritch, Freak like me by Halestorm

Group 2

Cards : 8 of wands, page of pentacles, page of cups, Tower, knight of swords, 7 of swords

Don't hold back. Whatever you wanna say, say it. Whatever you wanna do, do it. Be you. Do you. Feel you. I know it, you know it. This life is too short to have any regrets or mourn it. So just live, shine bright, have fun. Learn as much as you can. Go as far as you can. Don't hold back for any of them hyenas who would be too happy to see you fail. Shake the world. Break the rules. There's no one like you. Speak your mind. Embody your truth. I see you. I feel you. I know what it's like. Don't share any of your tricks with them. They jealous. Let them choke on their venom. You got no time for their BS. Okay? You're a queen/king. You bow down to no one. The dumbest of them all is the one that never learns, never asks, never speaks up. But you know better, honey. I know you're going to nail it. I know you're a good one. I know you're gonna rock the world because you're a rockstar. Just don't stop, don't look back. Don't let anyone stop you. I'll cheer for you wherever you go, wherever you are, whatever you believe in. Don't be afraid of what you feel or what you want. Just embrace who you are. There is nothing to be ashamed of. You are perfect. I hope you see that. I am in awe at how gorgeous and smart you are. I'm your number one fan! Show me how it's done! Show me what you got.

Shufflemancy : Zoom by Jessi, OMG by Usher ft will.i.am

Group 3

Cards : 3 of pentacles, 10 of swords, 9 of pentacles, ace of pentacles, queen of wands, 9 of wands

It's important that you take care of your health. Especially if your mind isn't in the best place right now. I know how hard it can be. But I also know how resilient you are. You are going to get everything you want and more. I have no doubt about that. You are so patient and kind, so hard working. You carry yourself with such grace and humility that it would be impossible for you to fail. I can't imagine a world where you don't shine. It would be impossible not to love you and admire you. I wish I could be of help to you but to be honest I feel like I have nothing to teach you cause you give me so much more than I could ever give you. I know so little about this world, about this life. But I hope that you can find a friend in me. A reliable shoulder to lean on when you feel down. I hope that your days are bright and that I can contribute to that. If I can give you just a little piece of advice, it would be to find a community where you feel safe and like you can be your true self, show your vulnerable sides without fearing rejection or retaliation. Go at your own pace. One step at a time, make your dreams come true. I will help you in any way I can. If it's by sharing your work or giving you words of affirmation, I will. If it needs me listening to you ranting for hours, I will gladly do that. There's only so much that I can do and say, but I hope that it's enough. Know that I am always by your side. You are so beautiful. Never give up. Please don't forget about me when you're successful. Because I am sure that one day you will surpass me and the greatest of them all. And if that happens, I wish I can be part of your world.

Shufflemancy : R U Mine? by Arctic Monkeys, I don't think I'm okay by Bazzi

[betelgeuses-wife]

Hi there!! Could I request a sweet oneshot where the Reader cuddles with BJ, combing through his hair while he curls up with her? Romantic ship bordering on platonic would be lovely!! 🥰 thank you!!

If course! I'll do my best! I hope you like it. Please let me know feedback, it helps a lot!

-----

Creature Comforts

🪲🧃

-----

You weren't entirely sure what had gotten Bee in such a put-out mood but after this long, you refrained from trying to guess, it could've been for a number of reasons or just one, perhaps one that wouldn't seem much of a big deal to you but that was Bee for you. You were used to just giving him comfort when he asked for it because it wasn't too often when he wasn't his usual, theatrical self.

Adventures in Babysitting was playing on the TV while you both were on the couch, you were sat up with your legs resting on the footrest and Bee was laying with his head in your lap; a pillow under him. He seemed unusually quiet and you wondered what was on his mind, usually he'd have made some crude jokes about the lead actress by now. He'd have found a number of ways to try to make you laugh but it was radio silence on his end. With Bee's lack of personality showing, you were barely paying attention to the movie yourself but you weren't particularly in a bad mood, you just wanted to find a way to make Bee...well. Himself again. You knew people had their off days and you supposed ghosts did too.

You were running your fingers through his hair gently, not really even aware you were doing so until you caught a knot and heard Bee grumble.

A "Sorry...", whispered, slipped from your before pursed lips. Your gaze settling on Bee rather than the screen, now slightly more focused on gently getting the knot out without disturbing him more. Bee didn't often care about his appearance either, he'd rarely ask for help with his hair but he hadn't complained since he had come to rest his head in your lap about a half an hour ago. So, you figured he didn't hate it.

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought of snuggling up with him and taking advantage of the silence but in all honesty you wanted to just comfort him. There were a number of things that were left unspoken between the two of you, each of you held your own secrets about your dynamic. Perhaps denial was at play but at times, your flirtatious, playful moments you shared bordered closer to your feelings and wants for Bee than you'd care to admit. You stated you'd only let him be around so long as it was platonic and here you were questioning that.

"What's on ya mind, Sweets?" His gravelly voice pulled you from your thoughts. Perhaps your lack of detangling had earned his attention.

"I could ask you the same thing. You've been quiet too." Your eyes locked onto his as Bee had turned to look up at you.

"Just'a thinkin, s'all."

"Want to talk about it?"

"What. 'N' ruin your quiet time?"

"I'll take that as a no then. Want to cuddle...then?" Your voice softer, perhaps given the quiet, almost tender exchange of time you had shared over the last hour, it felt a little strange. Perhaps edging into romantic territory but you hid your thoughts as you felt Bee move to sit up.

"C'mere then" he offered as his arms hung open.

Your momentary worry about overstepping boundaries was washed away and you shifted over into his arms, sinking into his hold as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving you a quick squeeze. He wasn't warm but it was still comforting. You knew how to compensate for the cons of him being a ghost. The house was always made warmer in the evenings during the colder seasons so you didn't notice the coldness of his touch, a hot water bottle also helped too. But having a cold body body hug helped in the summer. A welcomed feeling when you started to overheat. You found ways to adapt to what were issues before. Perhaps the fact you had embraced ways to make living together work had been the reason he trusted you, and you loved seeing his reaction to your ideas, you saw how he had felt seen, properly seen after decades of people wanting to just get rid of him.

You could feel as he relaxed, glancing up to see his eyes now on the screen, perhaps whatever had been troubling him had settled, he seemed more content with you in his arms. Maybe that was just your mind looking into it too much though. You weren't willing to say anything was for certain.

"Like what ya see, Tootz?"

"Shut up, Juice."

"Whatcha gunna do? Make me?"

You rolled your eyes as you watched him raised his eyebrows a few times and winked. You swatted his chest and turned back to the TV. But you were still aware of his hand on your lower back, rubbing it confortingly in small motions, something you often had needed after a long day but you supposed he had gotten so used to it that he was doing it without realising.

You hadn't really realised it until that moment but you had both slotted into living together quite well, and had learnt how best to comfort each other, even without knowingly doing so. You had him to come home to and he knew you'd always come back or let him know if you weren't. You both gave each other someone to rely on, at a time you both needed it. Perhaps that was the blessing the people before you saw as a curse.

[morgana-larkin]

Alrighty, after many creative blocks coming and going, I finally finished the next chapter of Mine!with Canadian thanksgiving and Halloween coming up, I decided to do a holiday chapter. Also for the few that were wondering their ages, in this fic, it takes place 7 years after season 2, and Melissa is 59 and reader is 34. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: the next fic I post will be an Agatha one as inspiration hit after watching the first 2 episodes of Agatha All Along and she’s clearly gay. I’m also aware that I haven’t updated my masterlist with like the last 6 fics I’ve posted, but I’m going to be doing a little reorganization and pretty-ing it up 😉

Mine - Part 8

Warnings: Smut, strong urge to be Mel’s wife (the usual)

Words: 4.5k

*Halloween Day*

“Got to hold still.” You tell Amelia as you’re finishing up her hairstyle for her costume. While you just bought shirts and wigs for the twins and dressed them up as thing 1 and thing 2, Amelia wanted something different.

You showed Amelia Scooby Doo and she chose to go as Daphne, so of course Melissa contacted some people and now Amelia has a great Daphne costume.

While you were helping Amelia get ready, Melissa was downstairs putting the costumes on the twins and getting breakfast ready.

“Do you tink people will know who I’m dressed as?” Amelia asks as you’re putting the headband in and fluffing some of her hair

“Well Mamma found you a great replica so I think they will.” You tell her with a smile. “Alright turn around.” You tell her as her costume is complete. Amelia does a little spin and you giggle. “You make an adorable Daphne, honey.” You tell her.

“Breakfast!” You hear Melissa call from downstairs and you take Amelia’s hand and help her down the stairs.

“Coming Mamma!” Amelia says when you’re halfway down the stairs.

When you and Amelia get to the dinner table to eat, Melissa looks up and immediately has a huge smile. “You both look amazing!” She says as Amelia goes running up to her and sits on her lap. “You look cute, Amore.” She says with a flirtatious tone when you get to the table. She then puts Amelia’s plate right in front of her and Amelia starts eating immediately.

“So do you, Poison Ivy.” You say as you grab the bat that Melissa decorated for you to complete your Harley Quinn costume.

“I am worried though that your lack of clothing will send the wrong message to some people though.” Melissa tells you and you can hear some jealousy seeping through her tone.

“My love, most of the staff and parents know that we’re married.” You tell her and give her a kiss before you all eat your breakfast.

“You could have gone with the full body suit with the hat.” Melissa says as you’re eating.

“The one with the devil looking horns? I like the option I picked.” You tell her. “Love, I don’t think anyone will try and hit on me when they know I’m married to Melissa Schemmenti.” You say and she blushes and smiles at that.

“I guess you have a point.”

“Besides, if they do try.” You start as you pick up the bat. “Then I got this handy dandy bat I can use that my lovely wife taught me how to use on our fourth date.“ You say with a smile and Melissa lets out a little giggle.

“Want me to do your makeup, Amore? Get your face all white and half dead looking.” Melissa says with a smirk.

“Sure, I’d love that.” You tell her and then you all finish your breakfast. “Do you want to finish getting everything ready while I pump before you finish my makeup?” You ask her and she nods.

“Sure thing.” She says and gives you a kiss on the cheek. “Want to get my cheek kiss count before you push me away from doing them all day. Especially when you’re wearing that.” She says and looks at your outfit.

“Think I look sexy as Harley Quinn?” You say with a flirty tone.

“I think you look sexy in this outfit.” She says as she wraps her arms around your waist and gives you a kiss. You were about to say something but then you remember you have to pump or you’ll start leaking.

“Well thanks love but I do have to start pumping.” You say as you give her a quick kiss and then leave the room. You come back in the room to Melissa taking a bunch of pictures of the twins and Amelia. Amelia had no problem posing for pictures for Melissa. You watch the scene for a minute and then you let your presence known and tell Melissa to go stand next to Amelia and the twins to get a picture. Melissa crouches down next to Amelia with the twins on the other side of her and you set your camera up with a timer and take a family Halloween picture.

“Alright I’ll do your makeup quickly now, Amore.” Melissa says to you. “Amelia, why don’t you go do some colouring while I put the finishing touches on Mommy’s costume, alright my little Tesoro?” She says to Amelia which Amelia quickly nods and runs to her colouring books in the living room.

“Alright maybe we should do this in the living room cause last time she coloured without supervision, our walls paid the price.” You say to which Melissa laughs.

“She takes after me that way.” Melissa says with a smile.

40 minutes later and you and Melissa are walking into the break room at Abbott.

“OMG you guys look AMAZING!” Jacob squeals.

From across the room, Melissa can see another teacher checking you out. Melissa wraps an arm around your waist and sends a glare their way.

“Oh damn! Check you out girl!” Ava says as she enters. “You’ll definitely be on my mind today.” She adds and Melissa huffs. She knows Ava likes to tease her that way.

“I’d be better if you refrained from thinking of my wife.” Melissa says with a glare.

“Why Melissa, are you jealous?” You say teasingly. “Although you should all know that Melissa decorated Edith for me for today. So any funny business and your head will meet her today.” You say as you show them the bat.

“Omg! Can I see that! It looks so cool, looks just like her bat in the show.” Jacob says with a huge smile and goes to inspect the bat.

While walking to your classrooms to welcome the kids, you both hear someone do a catcall and look around and see Janine down the hall looking at you both with a huge smile.

At lunch you show everyone the pictures you both took this morning of the kids and the family picture.

“They all look adorable.” Barb says to Melissa as you’re showing the trio.

“They look so cute.” Janine says excitedly.

“Amelia is like a mini me of Melissa.” Jacob says and you turn to look at Melissa who’s looking your way with a smirk.

“Well there’s no denying she’s Melissa’s kid.” You say as you go to sit down next to Melissa.

“Was there any doubt that she was.” Melissa says with a quirked eyebrow.

“A little.” You tell her and she tickles your exposed stomach and you start laughing.

“Little minx.”

“It’s Harley to you.” You say after Melissa stops the tickles, you get Edith out and Melissa bursts out laughing.

When you’re saying goodbye to the kids, a few parents check you out and hit on you and you can feel Melissa’s glare on them.

“I didn’t like having to watch those parents hit on what’s mine.” Melissa says in the car when you’re on the way to the daycare to pick up your kids.

“Well I’m sorry I’m so irresistible.” You say with a smile and Melissa gives you a side eye before shaking her head with a smile.

“You are irresistible.”

“And I’m also yours, so no need to worry about a few parents. You should see it as evidence that they’re jealous that you have me instead of them.” You tell her.

“You’re right, I mean we have 3 kids and we’ve been together for 9 years. And we’re still happy.” She says with a smile and you give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Exactly, so put everyone else out of your mind, it’s time for Amelia to go trick or treating for the first time. And then to steal some candy later on.”

After picking up your kids, you all go home to have supper and then you put jackets on the twins and Amelia.

“But the jacket hides the costume, I don’t want a jacket.” Amelia complains the entire time.

“Ok how about we bring your jacket and when you get cold then you put it on. How’s that sound, Tesoro?” Melissa compromises and Amelia agrees.

You take her out trick or treating around the neighbourhood for a couple hours, with the twins in a stroller, before she says that she’s tired and falls asleep in Melissa’s arms on the way back to the house.

Back at the house, Amelia takes a small nap while you put on a movie while taking turns getting up to give candy out to trick or treaters.

“Oh look at all your costumes!” You hear Melissa say on one of her turns and you get up to go see and stand next to her. “A little shark, a pirate, a princess. You guys look amazing!” She says.

Half an hour later and you're each feeding a twin while Amelia is colouring on the floor. “Mommy! Look what I dew!” Amelia exclaims and you look to see her masterpiece.

“Oh wow, what a lovely heart honey. Why don’t you go hang it on the fridge?” You tell her and she runs to do that.

“How bad was it?” Melissa whispers to you.

“It’s terrible but adorable.” You whisper back with a smile and Melissa chuckles.

“Mamma, if I’m youw Tesowo, then what about the twins?” Amelia asks Melissa after being read a bedtime story.

“Well they’re my sole and Luna.” Melissa tells her. “Which means my sun and moon.

“I’ll always be your Tesowo wight?”

“Of course, forever and always.” Melissa assures her with a fond smile.”

“Which one is the moon and which one is the sun.”

“Well I decided that Nico is the sun as he’s always smiling and giggling. And Caterina is the moon as she has a little devil side to her. Now get to sleep, my little Tesoro.” Melissa says and gives Amelia a kiss on the forehead and tucking her in.

*Thanksgiving*

Amelia is holding on to her stuffy, Teddy, and sitting on the couch, while she watches you guys move around to get ready for thanksgiving dinner at Melissa’s family’s house.

You both go to the kitchen to get the food, and you instruct Amelia to watch the twins. One of the starts crying and when you run out to see what’s going on, you then see Amelia hand her stuffy to Caterina who immediately stops crying. You snap a picture of the moment before going to scoop Caty up in your arms and grab the stuffy from her eyes to give back to Amelia. As soon as you grab it, Caterina starts crying again.

“That was so sweet of you Amelia, and I’ll get Teddy back from her when we get Auntie Mary Camille’s place.” You say and Amelia nods.

“Why is Caty holding Teddy?” Melissa asks when she steps out with a couple bags of containers of food.

“Because Amelia gave it to her when she was crying and now when I try to take it from her, she just cries again.” You say and Melissa smiles at Amelia.

“You’re such a great big sister, my little Tesoro.” Melissa praises Amelia as Amelia smiles proudly.

You get to Mary Camille’s place and both of your families are all over the twins and Amelia. After 20 minutes, it ends up with Amelia playing with some of her cousins, Kristen Marie holding Caty and your mom holding Nico. You and Melissa sit down and let out a breath.

“Is parenting getting to you?” Vinny asks you both and you chuckle while Melissa gives him a hug.

“Getting to us but we love it.” Melissa says as you all sit back down after hugging each other hello.

“I’m very happy for you Mel. I mean my little cousin finally has the little family she’s always wanted.” Vinny says with a smile.

“What are you talking about little cousin, I’m older than you.” Melissa says.

“You may be older but I’m taller.” Vinny says with a smirk, while Melissa lets out a huff and crosses her arms.

“Are you torturing my sister?” Kristen Marie says as she comes to chat with you all. You and Melissa both turn to see that Caty is now being held by Toni.

“Which one?” Vinny jokes.

An hour later and you all get up to go get some food and you chop a little bit of food up on a small plate for Amelia and hand her a small plastic fork and her bottle. You already handed bottles to whoever was holding a twin about 10 minutes ago so they can be fed.

“Alright so before we all eat, I would like for us to go around the table and say what we’re thankful for.” Mary Camille says. “I can start us off. So I am thankful for my husband, my 2 boys and all 8 of my siblings. And also thankful for the rest of our family.” She says and then it’s Melissa’s turn.

“Ok, well I’m very thankful for my wife.” She starts and grabs your hand and looks at you with a smile. “Who gave birth to 3 of the most wonderful children I could ever ask for. And also thankful to my family for all the love and support we’ve gotten.” She finishes, still holding your hand.

“Well I’m also thankful for my beautiful wife and amazing kids. And I’m also thankful for all of you, for taking me in as your family even right as Mel and I just started going out. You all treated me like family right from the start and very grateful for that.” You say and then you both turn to Amelia. “Amelia, honey, do you want to say what you’re thankful for?” And Amelia looks at you confused for a second. “You can be thankful for the people that you love.” You explain to her.

“I’m tankful for my mamma and mommy. And I love my sibwings.” She says and everyone says ‘awww’ at that.

And then everyone at the table goes to say what they’re thankful for and then you all dig in to your meals.

A few hours later you both start to get ready to go home when Amelia falls asleep on you.

“You both can come anytime you want. We love to see you and your children.” Mary Camille says as she hands Caterina to you. Just then your mom comes in and hands Nico to Melissa.

“You can always bring your kids to see me and your father as well.” Your mom tells you. “And as well to see you and Melissa.” She adds on and you shake your head with a smile. “Looks like Amelia might need some help with her shoes.” Your mom says with a chuckle. You all turn and look down and see Amelia asleep on the floor, feet bare.

“Let’s put the twins in the stroller and then I’ll carry Amelia.” Melissa says and you nod in agreement.

When you get home you put the twins to bed while Melissa puts Amelia to bed. You both then flop down on the bed, ready to go to sleep. Melissa turns around and spoons you while you get comfy in her arms.

“Happy thanksgiving Mia Amore.” Melissa says softly in your ear.

“Happy Thanksgiving my love.” You say right back to her. You turn your head around to give her a kiss then you both fall asleep.

*Christmas Day*

“MAMMA! MOMMY! GET UP! GET UP!” Amelia yells while climbing on the bed and starts jumping. “Santa came! I saw presents under the tree!” She yells and sits on Melissa’s stomach.

“Oh, Amelia.” Melissa says, shocked as she wasn’t expecting for Amelia to sit on her.

“I want to open pwesents!” Amelia exclaims and throws her hands in the air, excitedly. Just as she does that, you grab Amelia and pull her off of Melissa.

“How about Mamma can go get the twins and we can go down and arrange the presents.” You suggest and Amelia nods excitedly. You bring her downstairs and read the names off the presents and then hand them to Amelia who was putting them in organised piles. A few minutes later, Melissa comes down with the twins and puts them in their playpen.

“Pwesent time?” Amelia asks excitedly as soon as Melissa joins you both.

“Yep, choose whatever present from your pile and open it.” You tell her and she does just that. While she excitedly tears the wrapping paper off, Melissa puts an arm around your waist after you both sit down on the floor.

“Mommy! It’s the Bawbie doll I saw at the store and I loved it!” Melissa exclaimed excitedly.

“Oh my god! Look at that, it seems Santa really does know everything.” You tell her as you go and look it over with her, pretending you didn’t send the idea to Melissa at the store when you saw Amelia light up at it.

You both watch her open all her presents and even let her open the twins Christmas presents as well. Melissa got a few pictures of her excitement from opening the presents. After she finished then she handed both you and Melissa your own presents and she watched you both open yours.

“Oh amazing! Santa got me a new bat to replace the one that broke!” Melissa exclaims and looks it over thoroughly. “And got the best one too.” She says and sends you a smirk to which you secretly wink at her.

After all the presents are opened then you and Melissa tidy up after getting a garbage bag. “Mamma.” Amelia says and looks at Melissa.

“Yes Tesoro.”

“I have to use the potty.” She says and Melissa gives you the garbage bag and brings Amelia to use the bathroom.

You both started potty training about a year ago and it seems she’s gotten the hang of it but still not quite tall enough to sit on the toilet or reach the sink herself yet.

They come back a few minutes later and you’re putting the twins in their chairs to feed them. Melissa was so excited to start introducing them to foods over the summer. Sometimes you put what Melissa makes in the blender instead of giving them store bought purée food. And to Melissa’s delight, they enjoy her food a lot more.

“For breakfast, how would you feel if I made your favourite frittata?” Melissa asks Amelia.

“No.” Amelia says, and Melissa sees that Amelia has another meal in mind.

“Ok, what do you want for breakfast then?”

“The tiwamisu crepes.” Amelia says excitedly. Melissa made the crepes only a handful of times before. Last time was the morning on the last day of summer.

“Oh, well I can definitely make that for breakfast.” Melissa says with a smile.

Melissa makes the breakfast with Amelia while you feed the twins. After the twins are fed is when Melissa is done cooking as it only takes about 20 minutes until they’re all ready.

You all eat breakfast and then get ready for the Christmas party at your parents house. Once you get there you see that a few of Melissa’s siblings are already there as you see their cars.

“How did Marie get here before we did? She’s usually late?” You ask Melissa who’s just as surprised as you.

“No idea, my only guess would be that Seamus stayed over at her place and hitched a ride with her today. And you know he likes to be on time.” She tells you. Melissa is holding Amelia’s hand while you push the stroller with the twins to the front door.

The door is opened by your mom who immediately bends down and brings Amelia into a hug.

“Hello my dear!” Your mom exclaims.

“Hi grandma!” Amelia says to her.

“Francesca and Liliana are already here if you want to go play with them.” Your mom says to Amelia who bolts to the living room after your mom helps take her shoes off.

“I guess we won’t have to worry about her for the rest of the day.” You joke as you wrap your mom in a hug. “Merry Christmas mom.” You tell her.

“Merry Christmas dear.” Your mom says back to you. “And Merry Christmas to you as well.” Your mom tells Melissa and hugs her.

“Merry Christmas Diane.” Melissa says to your mom.

“Well come in, come in. Many people are already here. Oh and Y/N your cousin Alex is here.”

“No way! I thought he was still in Germany.” You say.

“He was able to come back home for the holidays.” Your mom explains.

You and Melissa go into the living room and there’s about 40 people already there. You both say your hellos to everyone and the twins are already taken by family members.

“As much as I love the kids, I love when we get some time to ourselves without having to worry about them.” You tell Melissa, who gives you a kiss on the forehead and wraps her arm around your waist.

“I feel the same way, Amore.”

When everyone arrives then your mom shouts that it’s present time and all of a sudden, all the kids, including Amelia, comes running into the room.

“Weirdly enough, if we were to shout anything else then they act as if they didn’t hear us.” Mary Camille, who’s right beside you, says to you and Melissa.

“I mean that selective hearing can be tricky.” You tell her and she chuckles.

You all watch the kids open their presents and you rest your head on Melissa’s shoulder as you both are sitting on one of the couches.

“Mommy! Mamma! I got a new paint set! And it’s so big!” Amelia says excitedly as she shows both of you.

After everyone opens their gifts, then everyone gets up to go eat. It’s buffet style to make it easy with so many people. You and Melissa make a plate for yourselves and one for Amelia who’s busy playing with her new toys.

“Amelia, come and eat!” You tell her from one of the couches.

“But I wanna play!” She says and crosses her arms and pouts.

“You can play after you eat.” Melissa tells her.

“I nevew get to do anything I want to do.” She complains and pouts as she makes her way over to you both.

“Awe, my poor baby.” Melissa says and wraps her arms around Amelia and gives her a big dramatic hug.

“Ah! Mamma, wet me go!” Amelia says through giggles.

You all begin to eat and Amelia’s face scrunches up a bit when she’s eating something.

“What’s this Mamma?” She asks Melissa and points to the food on her plate.

“That’s spaghetti, Tesoro.”

“That’s not spe-tti, it tastes nothing like it.” She tells you. Then it hits both of you that the only spaghetti she’s ever had was Melissa’s, who’s only ever made Italian spaghetti.

“It is, just a different kind. Some people make things differently than Mamma does.” You explain to her.

“Well Mamma makes it bettew.” Amelia says as she takes another bite. You then look over at Melissa who’s beaming, from the comment her daughter said about her cooking.

After a few hours, Amelia sprints over to you both and climbs onto Melissa’s lap and lays her head on her chest.

“Getting tired, Tesoro?” Melissa asks her as she strokes her head and Amelia nods. “Alright, we’ll leave in a little bit.”

After you say your goodbyes, and get the twins back from whoever had them, you all leave to go home.

“You know, when we get home, then I wouldn’t mind opening my last present.” You tell Melissa, after checking that all your kids are asleep in the car. Melissa smiles after a second when she figures out what you mean, your seductive tone of voice certainly helped.

After putting the kids to bed, you and Melissa get ready for bed. As soon as Melissa steps out of the bathroom, you ambush her with a kiss.

“Oomph.” Melissa says as she didn’t expect it, but it was certainly welcomed. Melissa lifts you up and brings you both to the bed. Both your clothes are off quickly as you both can’t wait any longer. You were both excited the entire car ride home. The one downside of having kids is you can’t pull over and have spontaneous car sex anymore.

Melissa kisses all over your body before plunging two fingers in you. You moan out when she does and Melissa silents you with a kiss. You both don’t want to wake any of your kids at that moment.

Melissa keeps a steady pace as she fingers you. She wants you both to enjoy this so she goes at a pace that won’t make you cum in 30 seconds. She knows your body like the back of her hand, which is certainly an advantage in many situations, especially sexual situations. You keep moaning and gasping into the kiss as you get closer and closer to an orgasm.

“Come when you need to, baby.” Melissa pulls away to say that then goes right back to kissing you. You gasp into the kiss as you come seconds later and Melissa gently pulls out of you. After not having sex for 2 weeks, that was an intense orgasm. Melissa can tell you’re having trouble moving so she gets an idea as she knows you want to make her cum now. “Just stick out two fingers so I can ride them.” She tells you and you immediately obey. She slides down on your fingers and starts riding them as you watch her. It’s not the first time she’s done this, as she’s extremely good with her fingers, but you love it when she does. The fact that she’s bringing herself that enjoyment with your help, and on top of you, with her breast moving with her, it’s definitely one of your favourite sights. Her mouth then starts hanging open and you can feel her pussy wrap around your fingers tightly and you can tell she’s about to cum. “Omg baby, your fingers feel so good inside of me.”

“And I love having my fingers inside of you, being able to feel you.” You tell her, and at that, she comes. Melissa then flops down on the bed next to you and you’re both breathing heavily.

“Don’t know why you’re breathing hard, I did all the work.” She jokes with you and you chuckle.

“Well the sight took my breath away.” You say to her with a smile.

You then cuddle as she comes down from her high and you both feel very content at that moment. You then look at Melissa as an idea pops in your head.

“What is it Mia Amore?” She asks you.

“How do you feel about getting a puppy?”

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