#but I'm approaching something I'm really pleased with?????

[nayziiz]

Our Home | CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (she/her)

Warnings: Very soft & fluffy

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

Carlos was a meticulous planner, a quality that permeated every aspect of his life, including the most significant moments. The proposal to his better half was no exception. Knowing her aversion to public displays of affection, he crafted a scenario that was intimate, heartfelt, and entirely personal.

Their routine bike rides had become a cherished tradition, a time for them to escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life and simply be together. Carlos recognized the significance of this shared activity and decided it would serve as the perfect backdrop for his proposal.

As they pedalled along their familiar route, Carlos couldn't help but steal glances at the ring tucked securely in his pocket, a symbol of his unwavering commitment to the person he loved most in the world. He waited for just the right moment, biding his time until the setting felt just as perfect as the sentiment behind his proposal.

When they stopped to address the issue of tire pressure, Carlos seized the opportunity to transform an ordinary moment into something extraordinary. With a steady hand and a heart full of love, he knelt down before her, the words he had rehearsed a hundred times over finally spilling forth in a rush of emotion.

In that quiet, secluded spot, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of their shared love, Carlos asked the question he had been longing to pose. And as her eyes filled with tears of joy and her lips curled into a radiant smile, he knew that his meticulous planning had paid off in the most perfect way imaginable.

For Carlos, the proposal wasn't just about popping the question; it was a reflection of his deep understanding of her desires and his unwavering commitment to making every moment they shared as special as possible.

Navigating the intricate world of wedding planning can be a daunting task, but she and Carlos had found a harmonious approach that played to each of their strengths. With her sister and his mom by her side, the process felt more like a collaborative celebration than a burdensome chore.

She took the reins, drawing upon her organisational prowess and meticulous attention to detail to create a vision that reflected both of their personalities and desires. From selecting the perfect venue to curating a menu that would tantalise the taste buds of the guests, she threw herself into the planning process with passion and determination.

Meanwhile, Carlos stood steadfastly beside her, offering unwavering support and a listening ear whenever she needed it. While he may not have been as involved in the nitty-gritty details, his presence was a constant source of reassurance and comfort, reminding her that she was never alone in this endeavour.

Together, they navigated the inevitable ups and downs of wedding planning, leaning on each other and her trusted confidantes for guidance and support. And as the big day drew nearer, they found themselves more in love than ever, united not only by their commitment to each other but also by the shared experience of bringing their dream wedding to life.

Carlos's gesture was nothing short of extraordinary—a testament to his thoughtfulness and unwavering commitment to her happiness. With the wedding on the horizon, he embarked on a mission, fueled by love and determination, to find her the perfect home in Barcelona, a place where her dreams could take root and flourish.

Together with his father, Carlos scoured the city, poring over listings and exploring properties with a discerning eye. He wasn't just looking for any house; he was searching for a sanctuary, a place that would not only meet her practical needs but also speak to her heart and soul.

With each potential home they visited, Carlos envisioned the life they would build together within its walls—the laughter shared in the kitchen, the quiet moments stolen away in the garden, the memories that would be woven into the very fabric of the space.

And then, finally, he found it—the perfect house, a hidden gem nestled in the heart of Barcelona, brimming with charm and character. From the moment he laid eyes on it, he knew that this was the place where their future would unfold, where their love story would continue to unfold with each passing day.

Carlos's plan was set into motion with precision and care, his excitement barely contained as he orchestrated a trip to Barcelona under the guise of a family visit. Little did she know, this journey held a secret purpose—one that would soon unfold in a whirlwind of surprises and heartfelt moments.

As they boarded the plane, Carlos's anticipation bubbled beneath the surface, his heart pounding with the thrill of what was to come. With each passing moment, the excitement in his eyes grew, a telltale sign of the surprise he had in store for her.

Upon arriving in Barcelona, Carlos seamlessly blended the visit with his family into the fabric of your trip, effortlessly steering the conversation away from any suspicion. He was a picture of composure, his every move calculated to keep the surprise under wraps until the perfect moment.

As Carlos guided the car through the winding streets of Barcelona, she couldn't shake the feeling of excitement that hung in the air. The sun cast a warm glow over the city, illuminating the vibrant colours of the buildings and infusing the atmosphere with a sense of possibility.

As they pulled up behind a gated compound, curiosity bubbled within her, mingling with a hint of apprehension. Carlos helped her out of the car, his hand warm against hers as he led her towards the imposing entrance. With each step, her anticipation grew, the mystery of the moment hanging heavy in the air.

“What's this?” she asked, her voice tinged with surprise as she took in the sight before her. Carlos's gaze softened, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he turned to face her.

“I thought we could start house-hunting, see what the market is like,” he explained, his words carrying a note of excitement and anticipation.

She blinked in disbelief, her mind struggling to process the unexpected turn of events. House-hunting in Barcelona? It was a dream she had shared countless times, but she never imagined it would become a reality so soon.

With a sense of wonder and excitement coursing through her veins, she followed Carlos and the real estate agent inside, her heart racing with the thrill of what lay ahead. As she crossed the threshold into the unknown, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the man by her side, whose love and thoughtfulness knew no bounds.

After twenty minutes of exploring every nook and cranny of the house, Carlos found her standing in the spacious kitchen, her eyes alight with wonder as she admired the gleaming countertops and state-of-the-art appliances. With a tender smile, he approached her, his arms open wide as he wrapped them around her from behind.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, his voice filled with anticipation as he waited for her verdict.

“It's huge,” she replied, her voice tinged with awe as she took in the expanse of the room. Carlos chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through the air as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“You like big homes, no?” he teased, his words laced with affection.

“Yeah, I do, especially if we want to start a family in a few years,” she replied, her voice soft with the weight of her dreams.

Carlos's eyes sparkled with affection as he took in her words, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. And then, with a sense of determination in his gaze, he dropped a bombshell that left her speechless.

“I bought it,” he declared simply, his voice tinged with excitement.

“What?” she gasped, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to comprehend the enormity of his words.

“I bought this house for us,” Carlos repeated, his voice filled with certainty and unwavering determination.

“You're joking, right?” she questioned, her tone tinged with disbelief as she searched his eyes for any sign of jest. Carlos's smile faltered slightly at the disbelief in her voice, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his expression.

Carlos's hand found hers, his touch warm and reassuring as he met her gaze with a mixture of affection and concern. 

“You don't like it?” he asked, his voice soft with genuine concern. She shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her  lips as she reached up to cup his cheek.

“I love it, but Carlos, you should have told me, baby,” she murmured, her heart swelling with love and gratitude for the man standing before her.

Carlos's admission tugged at your heartstrings, his words washing over you with a wave of emotion. You reached up to gently stroke his cheek, your eyes shimmering with tears of gratitude and love.

“I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t want the house-hunting to stress you out, but I also wanted to buy you a house as a thank you for everything you do for me, for the late nights, the early mornings, the travelling, giving up your job to be by my side,” Carlos confessed, his voice filled with sincerity and love.

Her breath caught in her throat as she listened to his words, feeling the weight of his appreciation and devotion settle over her like a warm embrace. In that moment, she was overwhelmed with a profound sense of gratitude for the man standing before her, whose love knew no bounds.

“This is our home, honey,” Carlos said softly, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity as he gazed at her with affection. “It may be empty now, but it’s already filled with love. I know it doesn't matter where we live or what it looks like, but I really want to build a home with you. I want it to be the place I always want to be, because you're there.”

Tears welled up in her eyes at his heartfelt words.

“Carlos,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. “You don't have to thank me. Being by your side, supporting you in every way I can—it's all I ever want to do. And this... this house, it's more than I could have ever dreamed of.”

“And that's why I want to marry you,” Carlos added with a coy smile, his eyes sparkling with affection as he looked into hers.

In that moment, surrounded by the promise of a future filled with love and possibility, she knew that this house was more than just a building—it was a sanctuary, a haven where their love could take root and flourish, where every corner would be filled with the echoes of their laughter and the warmth of his embrace.

And as she stood hand in hand with Carlos, gazing out at the blank canvas before her, she felt a sense of excitement and anticipation for the journey that lay ahead. For in each other's arms, she knew that you had found the true meaning of home—a place where love dwelled, where hearts entwined, and where every moment was a testament to the beautiful bond they shared.

[mssainz]

PART 6 | AFTER FIVE YEARS

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.

Warning: Typos

AN: Please don't mind the time stamps

You choose a casual and comfortable outfit for the day: a white tee, beige trousers, and a white cardigan, and finish it off by spraying Chanel Paris Deauville on your neck and wrist.

“Mama, where are you going?” Asks Cael, who is lying on your bed, watching you get ready.

You sit on the edge of the bed and stroke your son's hair. “Remember what you told Mama yesterday when we were having pancakes? You said you wanted to see Papa and watch his race. So, Mama is going to see Papa today and ask if you can watch his race,” you gently explain.

“Really Mama? You'll meet Papa?” Cael sits up, flashing a vibrant smile.

“Yes, my love. I can't bring you because Papa and I need to talk first. But someone who misses you is coming to take care of you,” you say, placing Cael on your lap and planting a kiss on his plump cheeks. He gives you a confused face, wondering who's been missing him.

“You wanna take a guess?” you ask, smiling at your son who is trying to figure it out.

“Is it Uncle Charles, Mama?” Cael guesses.

“Oh, how did you know?” you ask, surprised that he got it right.

“He always misses me. He says so even though we often meet, Mama,” Cael says, causing you to laugh.

As you two are playing in your bedroom, the doorbell rings. It's Charles.

“Hey buddy!” Charles immediately lifts Cael, ignoring you who opened the door for him.

“Hello to you too Charles,” you said sarcastically.

“Hello, Y/N” he said, greeting you too late.

“Thanks for coming, Charles,” you say, while he's busy kissing your son.

“But stop smooshing your face on my son's face. It’s a bit too much,” you add.

“Can't help it, he is so cute,” Charles replies.

“I'll go now, please take care of him,” you say, kissing your son goodbye. And before you can even open the door, Charles yells something.

“Don't forget to bring a condom!”

“Shut up, Charles” you said while flashing your middle finger to him.

“Uncle Charles, what's a condom?” Cael asked him.

“Uhm, it's a balloon bud. So you won't have another sibling when they get back.” Charles grins at Cael who is confused about how a balloon prevents him from having a baby brother or sister.

When you arrive at the restaurant, Carlos is already there waiting for you. He greets you with a smile as you approach his table. The atmosphere feels lighter than the last time you two met.

Maybe it's just the sunlight that makes everything seem brighter.

“Did you already order?” you immediately ask as you sit down.

“Uhm, not yet,” Carlos replies. You call out for the waiter to order.

As you scan the menu, Carlos interjects, “You want your usual?” Surprised, you nod and let him order for you.

“One creamy mushroom pesto for her, please, and one tomato pasta for me,” he orders.

So he still remembers what I like. Interesting.

“Thank you for coming, Y/N. I'm sorry about..” Carlos starts.

“Let's not talk about it Carlos. I'm good, we're good. Things like that happen,” you interrupt. Carlos can tell that you're still upset about what he said but you want to move past it.

“We came here to Madrid because Cael has been asking for you. He badly wants to meet you.”

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner about our son because, well, things happened between us,” you say, lowering your gaze to the table.

“I understand, Y/N. Like you said, things happen,” Carlos replies.

“He knows you, Carlos. He knows what you do. He knows that you're his father. You just have to meet him,” you say, meeting his gaze and offering a small smile.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

The pastas arrive and you both start to eat.

“I'm so excited to finally introduce myself to him. But I'm also kinda nervous,” Carlos admits.

“You don't have to worry about it, Carlos. Your son really loves you,” you reassure him.

“Can you tell me about Cael? Like when he was born? What does he like? How is he?” Carlos asks shyly. He wants to get to know his son and catch up on the four years he's missed.

“Well, Cael was born on March 15. He's really cute, looks just like you,” you begin.

“So you're telling me I'm cute?” Carlos teases, interrupting you. You give him a stern look before continuing.

“Ugh, I hate your smile,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

The audacity of this man, really.

“He loves cars, I think more than you do. He's also very smart and observant. Our son is very empathetic,” you continue.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you'll be amazed when you finally get to know him,” you assure him.

“How about you? How are you?” he asks.

“You have nothing to do with me, let's keep it that way,” you say, putting up an immediate barrier. You can only allow Carlos to be part of your son's life, but not yours. He caused too much damage in the past, and you won't allow further heartbreak.

I've had enough, Carlos.

After an hour or two, you and Carlos drive to your place. You're silent the whole time, thinking about how happy Cael will be to finally meet his father.

Before you can even get out of the car, Carlos takes a deep breath.

“Hey, look at me, Carlos. Don't worry, okay? Everything will be fine,” you say, absentmindedly cupping his face.

“Sorry,” you apologize, removing your hands from his face.

“It's okay,” Carlos says, amidst the awkwardness.

Once inside, you find Charles playing with Cael in the living room. Cael immediately runs to you when he sees you.

You enter first while Carlos waits outside for your signal.

“Hey, how was it?” Charles asks, referring to your meeting with Carlos.

“He's outside,” you mouth, while holding your son.

“Okay, my job is done. I'll go now, Y/n. You two take care.” Charles fist bumps with Cael before leaving. He sees Carlos standing at the door and wishes him luck.

“Cael, honey. Do you remember Uncle Chili?” Cael nods at you.

“You mentioned that he looks like Papa, right? Actually, he doesn't just look like Papa. He is Papa,” you explain.

“Really Mama? So Uncle Chili is my Papa?” Cael's face lights up. You nod and open the door.

“Hey bud,” Carlos greets Cael.

“PAPA!” Cael immediately runs to Carlos. Their embrace is warm and heartfelt, much like the first time they met.

“Thank you,” Carlos mouths to you in between their hugs and tears of joy begin to fall from his eyes.

AN: Here's the next part guys. Carlos finally met Cael, for real this time. Let me know your reactions hehe. Comment down if you want to be added to the taglist. I hope you like it. Thank youuu!

TAGLIST:

@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @mxdi0 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr @glai1023-blog @not-nyasa @jolixtreesunn @changetyre @thatsusbitch @distancedss @miarabanana @voidsfics @jasminesacademia @glow-ish @ccallistata @carpediem241108 @thearchieves @kenzeyeballs @formula1simp @dessxoxsworld @hoeforsirius @norwayxo

next part

[justwonder113]

Head over heels - Lee Know

Warning: Mentions of drinking, Minho is a bit tipsy but he's sober by the end of it. Rader is getting hit on by some weird dude. Slightly suggestive at the end. Minho is staring at the reader's chest. GN reader. Not proofread. Please tell me if I missed anything

Masterlist

A/N- I'm finally back!! Thankfully I got over the virus and more than dedicated to write as much as I can. I have many ideas and can't wait to write all of them. Thank you for all the love and support you've given me it truly means the world to me. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. If you have any requests too feel free to do so. Take care of yourselves, love you all❤️

When is the right time to say that you're head over heels in love with someone? Perhaps when they do something really romantic and/or selfless. Something probably really kind and generous, something really cool... Probably not when they are dazed from having a bit too much to drink and look like they are about to fall asleep any given second now, right? Yup, you were definitely weird, probably the main reason you and Minho clicked this well. Okay in your defense you knew you were smitten with him for a while, it just downed on you though how down bad you actually were.

Really though. To think that you would realize that you're in love with your best friend when his like anywhere but this world is beyond crazy, even for you.

"Pretty boy do you want me to bring you some water?" You asked after seeing him blink slowly yet another time. You were at this club Hyunjin had invited you at. The music was blasting on the full volume and everyone was having the time of their life, well maybe except you and Minho. Normally you would be also be having fun with your friends but now everything felt a bit dull. Maybe because you didn't drink anything. You had bad flu earlier and you just didn't feel like drinking today. As for Minho, normally the drinks didn't get to him that easily, but he wad been overworking himself a lot lately and due to the fatigue even such small amount of alcohol as two or three shots got to him pretty easily.

Looked at you with dazed eyes for a second or two, as if trying to gather his thoughts. Something glimmered in his already sparkly eyes and he gave you a small smile. God, he looked so squishy and cute like this you wanted to pinch his cheeks. Not that you would, he had this tough persona to keep. Also not to sound weird but you didn't want others to notice how cute he was. Let's just say you wanted to gatekeep him for yourself.

After Minho gave you a small nod you got up and headed to the bar. There were a lot of people in line so you would probably have to wait quite a while to get something as simple as glass of water. You texted Minho that this could take a minute or two and started waiting for your turn. Meanwhile from the corner of your eye you saw someone shamelessly check you out, like, could they be any more obvious about it? You prayed that he wouldn't approach you while you also crossed your fingers for the bartender to hurry up. You decided to ignore it. You didn't see anything.

Unfortunately your prayers hadn't been answered, the sleazy man decided to approach you, honestly the audacity some people had. You tried to keep your distance but it was all in vain. The man stood in front of you now. He even made a show of slowly checking you out. God what a pig. You really tried your best to compose yourself, you really didn't need to make a scene now.

"Hello. Gorgeous can I buy you a drink?" God even his voice was so annoying. You reminded yourself that you needed to keep calm. With the most polite voice you could muster you answered that you were good and that you were with someone. But the dude still kept pestering, making your blood boil even more. Who the hell did he think he was? You had enough of this, you were about to warn him that you would call the security on him, when hands wrapped around you. You stiffened for a second, but relaxed when you noticed that it was Minho. The strange man grumbled. "Shit, boyfriend of yours?"

Minho answered before you could, his hands tight around your waist, his glare cold as ice. "Yes, now fuck off." The man was about to argue but Minho's death glare shut him up quickly. The man slithered away to disturb someone else you guessed.

You turned your full attention to Minho, who kept hugging you and now had rested his head on your shoulder. He still felt sleepy you guessed. "You took too long." He grumbled after a few seconds of silence. You turned your head and kissed the top oh his head. Minho grunted again. "Sorry pretty boy. Let's get you that water." You took a step towards the bar but Minho stopped you.

"Don't want it anymore."

You fully turned to Minho and started closely examining him, his face was unreadable though.

"Hey, how are you?"

"Just tired. Can I stay at yours?" You thought for a minute jokingly which Minho didn't really appreciate which he showed by softly pinching your side. Really, what was up with him being all cute today? You couldn't help yourself and you gave him a little peck on his cheek.

"Sure." Minho didn't say something, and you couldn't read anything on his face. He held his hand towards you and after you held it he started leading you to others so that you could say your goodbyes.

The walk to your house wasn't long. You appreciated the comfortable silence between you two. It was peaceful. You also loved how extra protective Minho was over you, he didn't let go of your hand whole way. Your heart felt like it would burst from joy.

You sighed in relief once you walked into the safehold of your house. It felt so good to be home. Like the two youthful people you were you immediately started getting ready for bed. You of course on top that pestered Minho to drink plenty of water before going to sleep. You didn't want him to wake up with a hangover. Surprisingly he was being obedient. You also couldn't help but admit that sleepy Minho was absolutely adorable. To you he just looked so soft and squishy all you wanted to do was to cover his whole face with kisses.

You tried to get ready for bed as fast as possible, but the chains you had worn today didn't really let you. They managed to get stuck and you didn't really feel like going to sleep in them. So you turned to Minho who laid across on your bed. Diagonally like a sweet person he was. He had changed into the sweats and oversized shirt he had left at your house but as it seemed he got lazy to get under the covers. "Min can you help me with these?" You asked sweetly as possible. Minho didn't answer and you thought that he fell asleep again laying diagonally on your bed, but he got up after a couple of seconds. He looked at you with unimpressed eyes waiting for you to ask what you wanted. You motioned towards your bundled up chains. Minho grumbled again but immediately started working on it.

The chains were more tangled up than you could imagine. Minho kept grumbling about how he should just snap them but still kept deligently working through every knot. You had no idea how did they get so tangled up on your neck. You got curious on what was taking so long and looked down and only when did you notice that upper buttons were open and you were showing quite a decent amount of cleavage. You felt shy for a second but then as if on cue you noticed how Minho's eyes kept shifting down towards your exposed skin. Let's just say it was a nice ego boost. Subtly as possible you even straightened up a little so you could show off your assets better. You didn't know if Minho knew you did that on purpose but his eyes sure did appreciate the sight. You didn't even realize you were staring at him, before he looked up and your eyes met. Suddenly you felt lost at words. How was he so gorgeous? You could only gulp and just stare at him.

"I did it." He spoke calmly as he placed your chain on your hands. "I think I know how you should thank me." Was it you or was he really close? You could even feel his breath on your skin. Your eyes couldn't help but shift fom his eyes down to his pretty lips. What were you even doing? Minho noticed your wandering eyes, his gaze also shifted down to your lips.

His finger touched under your chin and slowly lifted your face so that you were eye to eye again.

"What do you have in mind?" You found your voice after a few long seconds of being rendered speechless.

"I want to kiss you so bad." Minho's confession sent shivers down your spine. Good thing that you were sitting on your bed, you felt like you would fall otherwise. You felt like fanning yourself, your whole body felt so hot.

"What's stopping you then?" You quipped back, he was so close now with each breath your lips slightly grazed each other.

"Nothing." His voice was raw with emotion. You didn't even get to say anything, his lips were on you in matter of milliseconds. The kiss was raw, passionate. It ignited you, you felt alive now that you had the taste of his lips. It was everything and so much more, it was like he tried to convey his feelings with this kiss.

Guess you were not the only one head over heels for the other.

[scoonsalicious]

1.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of alcohol consumption, some mild derogatory language against women, by women.

Word Count: 960

Previously On...: Natasha Romanoff invited you out to meet her single Avenger teammates. There's only one she warned you to stay away from...

A/N: For Bucky and Lily's POV sections, Major is referred to by name, and without use of you/your. It just made my life easier, lol.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He clocked her the minute she walked through the door of the bar. How could he not? She was stunning, what with the way she carried herself as she moved through the room, the way her hips swayed as she walked. Bucky liked to think of himself as a gentleman, but just the sight of the unknown woman in front of him was inspiring decidedly ungentlemanly thoughts. 

He couldn’t believe his luck when she walked right up to Natasha, giving her a hug and joining her and Wanda at their table. His mind had been running, trying to come up with an excuse to approach her; he couldn’t believe he’d ended up with such an easy in. 

“Remember how we talked about staring, Tin Man?” Sam said, coming up alongside Bucky and noticing his distraction. “How some girls might find it downright creepy?”

Bucky ignored his friend’s jab at his expense. “Who’s that?” he asked, jutting his chin toward where the woman sat with his teammates.

Sam cocked his head, considering the girl who had captured his friend’s attention. “I think that’s Nat’s friend… (Y/N)--something. Nat said she might be joining us. Heard the girl was pretty, but damn!”

Bucky turned to look at his friend. “What do you mean, you ‘heard she was pretty’?” 

Sam shrugged. “Nothing. Just that Nat said she was inviting her pretty, single friend out with us tonight and maybe those of us without girlfriends might want to consider putting a little extra care into our appearance.”

Bucky glanced around at his friends– they did seem a bit more put together than usual, even Parker. But then he frowned. “How come Nat didn’t say anything about her to me?” He couldn’t help but feel slightly offended at being left out. Did Natasha not think he was good enough for her friend?

“Come on, man,” Sam said good naturedly, slapping Bucky on the back. “You may not have a girlfriend, but you sure as shit ain’t single!” 

Sam started laughing, but Bucky wasn’t sure he understood the joke. That happened a lot, unfortunately. There was so much about this time he just didn’t get, and he often found himself too embarrassed to ask for clarification. 

“What’s so funny, boys?” Bucky felt a small arm slink itself around his waist, and Lily was pressing herself into his side. He smiled down at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her gently. He was never too embarrassed to ask Lily to explain the crazy ways of this modern world to him; she always approached his time-dysphoria, as they’d come to call it, with compassion and understanding. He was infinitely grateful to have her as a friend. One of his best.

“Exhibit A,” Sam said pointedly to Bucky. He turned to Lily. “Buck’s just curious about Nat’s new friend,” Sam said, a sly grin taking over his features. “What do you think, Lil? She’s hot, right?”

Bucky felt Lily stiffen beside him. “She’s alright, I guess,” Lily said after a minute of looking the woman over. “If you’re into that basic, skanky look.”

Bucky watched as Nat’s friend took off her leather jacket and draped it behind her chair. God, the skin of her back and shoulders looked so soft, he caught himself wondering what it would be like to run his fingers across it. “I think she’s gorgeous,” he found himself saying.

Lily looked up at him in surprise. “Really, Jamie? I have to admit, I’m surprised. I thought you had more refined taste than that.” She gave him a disgusted look before disengaging herself from his hold and walked back toward the pool table to line up her next shot.

“Yeah, Jamie,” Sam mocked once Lily had moved beyond earshot. “How dare you find the attractive girl attractive, you asshole!”

“Knock it off, Sam,” Bucky said, trying to ascertain why Lily would seem to have a problem with the way the woman looked. He thought she looked amazing. Easily one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, in this, or any of his decades.

Sam chortled. “Man, you hate being called ‘Jamie.’ Why haven’t you asked her to knock it the fuck off by now?”

Bucky shrugged, putting thoughts of Lily’s words aside as he glanced at the woman sitting with Nat and Wanda again. “I dunno; she likes it, and it’s been four years already. Feels kinda weird correcting her on it, now.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause God forbid your friends actually call you what you want to be called.”

When he didn’t respond right away, Sam looked over and caught Bucky staring at you. “Hello,” he said, waving a hand in front of Bucky’s face. “Earth to Barnes? You okay over there?”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, blushing at being called out. “It’s just… she’s really pretty, you know?”

Sam sighed. “Alright. Now, I was gonna make my own play, but seeing as it’s been a dog’s age since you got any action, I’m gonna be a good friend and be your wingman on this one.”

Bucky smiled and turned back to the high top, delighted to see the woman looking back at him, this time, the sweetest smile playing across her lips. “Thanks, Sam,” he said. 

Sam gently nudged him with his elbow. “Don’t mention it, pal. You know I can never say ‘no’ to a charity case.”

“Guys,” Lily called over to the two of them. “We’re starting a new game, come on.”

Bucky looked back, giving the pretty girl one more glance. Were her lips as kissable as they looked? He wondered. Get it together, Barnes, he chastised himself. You’re 106-years old, not a fucking teenager. 

But damn if she wasn’t making him feel like one tonight.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[emjayewrites]

All For Us - Pt. 2 (Lewis Hamilton SMAU)

SUMMARY: Lewis Hamilton secretly dates an older woman with a daughter and the public slowly starts connecting the dots. [smau w/narrative]

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x influencer!OC Bree King (faceclaim is Sasha Exeter)

WARNINGS: verbal/emotional abuse from an ex, drama, age gap romance (Bree is 2 years older than Lewis), formula one b.s., pre-established relationship, step-daddy Lewis. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!

READ THE FIRST PART: here.....part three coming soon

TAGLIST: @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @blveeeeeee @sugardontbesweet @omgsuperstarg @bluesole16 @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @jasmindaughteroftheworld @motheroffae @hrlzy @xoscar03 @xsweetdellzx

A/N: Read the warnings!! Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

The final race weekend of the season in Abu Dhabi had been a whirlwind of excitement so far for Bree, Lewis, and Sloane. They'd spent the last few days exploring the city's iconic sights and immersing themselves in the rich cultural experiences.

One highlight was visiting the stunning Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque, its towering domes and intricate mosaics leaving them all awestruck. Sloane had been uncharacteristically quiet and well-behaved as their guide explained the significance of the sacred place.

"It's so pretty, Mommy," she'd whispered, eyes wide with wonder. "Like a palace for angels."

Lewis had gathered them both close, dropping kisses on each of their heads with a warm smile.

Another memorable experience was Lewis' daring skydive over the Palm Jumeirah islands. Bree's heart had lodged in her throat as she watched him exit the plane, that wildly free spirit of his on full display. But soon, his bright orange parachute had blossomed, carrying him down safely to the ground.

"That was amazing!" he'd crowed upon rejoining them, scooping Sloane up into his arms. His face was flushed with adrenaline, eyes sparkling. "Your turn next time, princess!"

Sloane had merely giggled and shaken her head adamantly at the idea.

After Lewis' free practice session and media duties were over, he surprised Bree and Sloane by taking them to a beautiful horse ranch just outside the city. Sloane had recently become fascinated with horses, and her eyes grew wide with excitement when they pulled up to the sprawling stables.

"We're really going to see the horsies?" she asked, gripping Lewis' hand tightly as they walked through the entrance.

Lewis grinned down at her. "Of course, princess. Anything for you."

A shriek of pure joy escaped Sloane as they approached the stalls, the gentle giants peering out at the newcomers with curiosity. She raced ahead, eager little hands outstretched to pat their velvety noses.

Bree hung back, content to watch the joyful scene unfold before her. Seeing Lewis and Sloane together filled her heart to bursting. He doted on her daughter so naturally, as if she were his own flesh and blood.

A little while later, Sloane was confidently mounted on a sweet pony, listening raptly to the trainer's instructions as they walked the paddock area. Lewis settled on a nearby bench, draping his arm around Bree's shoulders as they observed her daughter's riding lesson.

"She's a natural, isn't she?" he murmured, pride coloring his rich tone.

Bree hummed in agreement, leaning her head against his solid chest. "She really is. You may have started something here."

"Well in that case..." Lewis paused, turning his head to press a kiss to her hair. "I'm going to buy her a pony."

Bree's head whipped up, eyes widening. "No way. Lewis, you can't just buy Sloane a whole pony!"

He arched one brow stubbornly. "Why not? She's taken to it so well."

"Because!" Bree protested with an exasperated laugh. "She's eight years old. What are you trying to do, spoil her rotten?"

"Yes," Lewis stated simply, that infuriatingly handsome smirk playing over his lips. "Why can't I spoil my princess?" Bree opened her mouth to argue, but Lewis kept talking. "Sloane wants to get serious about riding, yeah? So let's nurture that talent. She could be an Olympian someday if she sticks with it."

Bree bit her lower lip, wavering. He did have a point - her daughter was displaying a remarkable natural ability.

"Let's just...think about it, okay?" she hedged. "This is a huge responsibility, not some passing toy phase."

Lewis made a show of mulling it over, but the obstinate glint in his eyes told Bree the decision was already made in his mind.

"Alright, alright," he conceded airily. "But I don't know, love...Sloane might be getting that pony after all."

Early December brought the first flurries of snow to the ground as Sloane celebrated her 9th birthday. Bree had gone all out with a Parisian theme, inspired by their summer trip to France.

Lewis was on kid-wrangling duty, making sure the gaggle of energetic children didn't inadvertently break anything in Bree's tastefully decorated townhome. As Bree emerged from the kitchen with a fresh round of juice boxes and snacks, the doorbell rang insistently.

"Can someone get that?" she called out. When it rang again, she sighed and carefully made her way through the living room.

In the corner, Lewis was engaged in an elaborate tea party with Sloane and a few of her friends. The other mothers in attendance openly ogled his athletic frame, seeming entranced by his easy interactions with the children. Bree just shook her head at their antics.

Opening the front door revealed her ex-husband Tom, present in hand with a young woman at his side. Bree's eyes immediately raked over the girl - she couldn't have been more than a few years out of college at most.

"Bree," Tom greeted stiffly.

"Tom." She kept her tone clipped. "Sloane's inside."

Stepping aside, she allowed them entry. No sooner had they crossed the threshold than Lewis materialized with Sloane perched on his back, her giggles filling the air.

"Babe, I think we need more crepes—" His words cut off as he caught sight of Tom, the two men sizing each other up.

"Lewis," said her ex-husband with a tightlipped smile.

"Tom," nodded Lewis in a flat tone, his facial features void of any emotion.

Since that fateful phone call months ago, Sloane's father had kept any communication with Bree brief and to the point - something Lewis silently approved of.

Bree's ex was a middle-aged white man, his dark hair showing hints of distinguished silver at the temples. As Lewis set Sloane down, the little girl rushed to hug her dad before pulling back, brows furrowed suspiciously at the young woman.

"Who are you?" she asked bluntly.

The woman flushed, mouth opening and closing. "I...um..."

"This is Talia, sweetheart," Tom supplied quickly. "Daddy's...friend."

Sloane slanted the woman a calculating look that seemed far too mature for her young age. Then, without another word, she whirled and rejoined her friends.

Soon it was time for the birthday festivities. As Sloane blew out her candles amid a chorus of off-key singing, she tore into her gifts with unbridled glee.

Tom's present was an exquisitely detailed dollhouse, complete with miniature furnishings and figurines. Sloane's eyes shone as she examined every facet of the ornate toy intently.

"My turn next, princess," Lewis announced with a wink. "But you'll need to put your coat on for this one."

The children immediately began scrambling to bundle up, parental chaperones trailing behind curiously. Once outside, Lewis led them around to the front of the house where an elderly handler stood beside a gorgeous chestnut pony, all saddled up and ready to go.

Sloane's shriek of pure delight was like music to Lewis' ears. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks as she dashed forward to stroke the pony's back, whispering hushed greetings.

Quick as a flash, she pivoted and launched herself at Lewis, deceptively strong little arms locked around his neck.

"Thank you, thank you!" she cried, squeezing tightly. "This is the bestest birthday present ever!"

Over Sloane's shoulder, Bree beamed, heart swelling at the scene. But something in her peripheral vision caught her attention - her ex-husband, face mottled with rage, hands balled into white-knuckled fists at his sides.

She knew that look all too well from their marriage. This wasn't something he would simply forget or let go. Bree swallowed hard, trying to shake off the ominous chill that swept over her despite Sloane's obvious elation.

Oh no, she thought anxiously.

In the weeks following Sloane's birthday, things took an odd turn with her ex. He stopped responding to her texts and messages, leaving their child increasingly confused and hurt. When the scheduled week after Christmas for Sloane to stay with him came around, Tom was a complete no-show, ghosting his own daughter.

Bree was incredulous, barely able to contain her outrage at Tom's selfish behavior. She immediately forwarded copies of all her attempted communications to her lawyers, though it did little to soothe her anger. With nothing else to be done, Bree decided a change of scenery was in order for the holidays.

"How would you like to join Lewis and me in Brazil, baby girl?" she asked Sloane, who immediately perked up at the suggestion.

Lewis was overjoyed when they arrived, sweeping Sloane up into his arms with a rumbling laugh. "There're my two favorite ladies! Ready for some fun in the sun?"

Their time in Brazil was like a dream. After visiting Sao Paulo, they made their way to the beaches of Rio de Janeiro, taking in all the iconic sights along the way.

While Bree treated herself to a well-deserved spa day at their posh beachfront hotel, Lewis took Sloane out to experience more of the city's wonders. His original plan was a solo outing…but having Sloane there somehow made it even more special.

"Where are we going?" Sloane asked, skipping excitedly beside him as they wandered the upscale shopping district.

Lewis winked down at her. "You'll see, princess. It's a surprise for your mum."

When they arrived at the iconic Tiffany & Co storefront, comprehension blossomed over Sloane's face. She gasped, delighted giggles bubbling up.

"We're getting Mommy a ring!" she whispered conspiratorially.

Lewis just grinned and led her inside, informing the sales associate that he had an appointment. They were ushered into a private viewing room where a jewelry expert awaited with several trays of glittering ring selections.

Sloane immediately clambered into the chair beside Lewis, back ramrod straight with the importance of her role. As the sales associate took their drink orders, she piped up, "Apple juice on the rocks, please!"

The woman's tinkling laugh filled the room. "You got it, miss!"

While they waited, Lewis turned to Sloane with a serious expression. "You know what we're doing here?"

She nodded sagely. "Picking out a ring for Mommy so you can ask her to marry you."

A lump formed in Lewis' throat at her childlike innocence and perception. "That's right, princess. Would you like to help me choose?"

"Yes!" Sloane exclaimed. She leaned in, examining each tray with a furrowed brow that looked charmingly out of place on her young features. Finally, her eyes landed on a breathtaking princess-cut solitaire, its envious facets glimmering even in the muted light.

"What about that one? It's really pretty."

Lewis followed her line of sight, heart stuttering at the exquisite ring. "You like that one?"

Sloane nodded firmly. "Do you think Mommy will too?"

A slow smile curved his lips. Of course his girl would have impeccable taste, even at her age. "Yeah, princess. I think your mum will love that one too."

Lewis signaled the jeweler, pointing out the dazzling princess-cut solitaire they'd selected. As the ring was securely packaged and the credit card transacted, Sloane leaned in close.

"When are you going to ask her?"

Tucking the precious cargo into his pocket, Lewis winked down at Sloane.

"Very soon, my girl. In fact…" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her from the store. "Why not while we're still here in Rio?"

The brilliant smile that bloomed across Sloane's face was all the answer he needed.

------------------------------------------------

On their final night in vibrant Rio de Janeiro, Lewis had something special planned. He made reservations at one of the city's most exclusive rooftop restaurants, renting out the entire top floor for some luxurious privacy. The panoramic views overlooking the iconic Christ the Redeemer statue and twinkling city lights below were simply breathtaking.

Dinner itself was an indulgent multi-course affair, the finest Brazilian cuisine paired with delectable wine. As dessert was served, Lewis gave Sloane a conspiratorial wink, causing the little girl to perk up.

"Right," she piped up, shooting her mother a mischievous grin.

Bree's elegantly arched brows lifted in suspicion. "Okay, what are you two up to?"

"Mommy, I need to go to the bathroom," Sloane announced, tugging on Bree's hand insistently.

Sensing something was definitely afoot, Bree decided to play along and allowed her daughter to lead her away from the table. Once inside the restroom, Sloane made a show of taking an excessively long time before finally "finishing" and moving to the sinks.

As Bree washed her hands, she caught Sloane's eye in the mirror. The girl was primping and fluffing her hair unnecessarily.

"Yes, Mommy?" she asked sweetly when she noticed Bree's gaze.

"What's going on, Sloane Marie?" Bree asked pointedly, unable to hide her knowing smile.

Sloane just shrugged, the picture of wide-eyed innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Mmm-hmm…" Bree hummed, unconvinced but willing to let the surprise unfold.

When they returned to their private dining area, Bree's steps faltered. The floor was strewn with a smattering of vivid red rose petals, the candles glowing warmly. And right behind their table stood a makeshift backdrop with the words "Will You Marry Me?" illuminated in twinkling fairy lights.

Tears immediately pricked Bree's eyes as the realization set in. She lifted a trembling hand to her parted lips, breath catching in her throat. Turning slowly, she found Lewis watching her with an achingly tender expression, hand outstretched in wordless invitation.

Sinking shakily into the chair he guided her to, Bree's gaze remained locked on his as Lewis lowered himself to one knee before her. Her hands fluttered helplessly as he clasped them between his own, anchoring her.

"Breanna Yvonne Jamison…" Lewis murmured, using her maiden name in a way that unlocked a fresh torrent of tears. Cupping her face, he gazed at her with liquid warmth and adoration. "My whole life, I've chased the adrenaline rush of going faster, pushing every limit in pursuit of greatness. Yet you came into my world so unexpectedly, and showed me there's no greater achievement than the profound stillness, safety, and completeness I feel simply existing by your side." He brushed an escaped tendril of hair from her damp cheek, voice lowering to an impassioned rasp. "You and Sloane…you're my home, my heart, my everything. Without you, I'm lost, unmoored. So please, Breanna - will you make me the luckiest man on earth?"

Lewis slid from his pocket the dazzling Tiffany's solitaire he'd selected with Sloane's help, the glittering gem glimmering like a fallen star between their joined hands. Trembling, Bree could only nod fervently, a watery laugh bubbling up from her very soul as she choked out, "Yes!"

In the next heartbeat, Lewis surged up to claim her lips in a searing kiss, cradling her to him. The restaurant staff erupted into cheers and applause while Sloane launched herself at them both, wrapping her skinny arms around their entwined bodies in a fierce group hug.

And in that suspended, perfect moment, Lewis Hamilton knew he'd finally caught the elusive thrill he'd been chasing his whole life. It went by a million different names - joy, peace, unconditional love.

But mostly, it was called home.

--------------------------------------------

In the blissful afterglow of his proposal, Lewis had one request for Bree - that they keep their engagement under wraps for now, just between them and their innermost circle. A treasured secret to bask in before the inevitable media frenzy.

Bree agreed readily, already protective of this sacred new chapter. Just for a little while, she wanted to exist in their loved-up bubble untainted by prying eyes and external pressures.

So they returned from Brazil as an extremely happy yet outwardly unchanged couple, Bree's dazzling new ring discreetly hidden away, its sparkle reserved for private moments between her and Lewis. Sloane proved incredibly adept at keeping her lips sealed despite her giddiness.

Finally, a couple months later after Lewis' departure from Mercedes and move to Ferrari was announced, they decided the time was right - they revealed their joy to the world.

The collective meltdown was of internet-breaking proportions. Fans, media outlets, and even fellow drivers and celebrities lost their minds over the long-anticipated news of Lewis Hamilton's impending nuptials.

At the eye of that storm, Lewis and Bree remained untouchable, buoyed by the pure love and acceptance they'd found together. The noise and chaos hardly registered in their cherished new reality as fiances and soon-to-be family. They were already living in a storybook dream.

Mid-February found Lewis back at Mercedes HQ in England, diligently preparing for the start of the 2024 F1 season. Meanwhile, Bree was gathering her things to catch a flight to Italy for a luncheon with Peroni, the new sponsor of Scuderia Ferrari.

"Sloane, honey, come give me a kiss! My Uber is going to be here any minute," Bree called up the stairs.

Sloane came clattering down, and Bree enveloped her in a fierce hug before placing a kiss on her cheeks. She then did the same to her mother.

"Be safe and call me as soon as you land, dear," her mom instructed.

"I will, Mom. Love you guys!"

As Bree headed out the door, a figure approached from the side. "Breanna King?"

She paused, eyeing the stranger warily. "…Yes?"

Without another word, the person thrust an envelope into her hands. "You've been served."

Bree could only gape at their retreating form in shock. The Uber driver cleared his throat, snapping her back to reality as he began loading her luggage into the trunk. She slid numbly into the backseat and tore open the envelope with trembling fingers.

The papers inside were a summons - Tom was suing her for full custody of Sloane, citing neglect and declaring Bree an unfit parent.

"This motherfucker," the strangled curse tore from her lips as she scanned the accusations. It had to be a sick joke, some sort of retaliation for his bruised ego over the pony incident.

Hands shaking, she immediately dialed Lewis' number. He picked up with his usual warm greeting, but immediately recognized the thinly veiled panic in her tone.

"Bree? Love, what's wrong?"

"Tom is…he's suing me for full custody." Her voice cracked on the last words. "He's trying to take Sloane away, saying I'm neglectful and unfit."

There was a pregnant pause on the other end, the weight of her words sinking in.

"That motherfucker," Lewis growled, his protective fury evident. "He is not taking our little girl."

Bree swiped at the tears streaking her cheeks, eternally grateful to have this man's unwavering support and love.

"I can come straight to you," Lewis stated, the resolute timbre of his voice already soothing her tattered nerves. "We'll get the best lawyers money can buy, and fight this with everything we've got. I promise you, Bree - Sloane isn't going anywhere."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Bree willed herself to draw strength from Lewis' steadfast presence, even over the phone. He was right; they could and would get through this latest hurdle. Their little family was far too precious to let anyone tear it apart so easily.

"No, no, it's fine. I'm on my way to the airport now," she managed in a stronger voice. "But yeah...okay, I love you, Lewis."

"I love you too, baby. We've got this."

As the call disconnected, Bree felt a surge of determination replacing the initial panic. Tom King had poked the proverbial bear - and neither she nor Lewis would rest until this custody battle was won.

-------------------------------------------

Bree smoothed her hands down the silk blouse she had carefully selected for the luncheon at Scuderia Ferrari's headquarters in Maranello. Despite the glamorous setting and prestigious company partnership with Peroni, her mind couldn't seem to focus.

Tom had blindsided her by filing for full custody out of nowhere. As she mingled with the other influencers and Ferrari personnel, Bree wondered what had given her the strength to even make this trip to Italy rather than immediately raging hell at home.

The answer, as it so often was lately, was Lewis. His calm, reassuring presence had grounded her when the news first broke. Though clearly furious on her behalf, he had encouraged Bree to keep her head high and trust her lawyers as they prepared for the upcoming court session.

"Don't let that idiot ruin all your hard work, gorgeous," Lewis had stated firmly. "I've got your back no matter what, okay?"

And so here she was, determined not to let Tom's spiteful actions derail her life and commitments. As a Peroni ambassador, Bree pasted on her brightest smile and tried to immerse herself in the incredible experience of touring the legendary Ferrari factory.

She shared a laugh with Charles Leclerc as the young driver joked, "I guess I'll be seeing you around the paddock more often when Lewis joins the team next year!"

The comment simultaneously thrilled and unsettled Bree. Their engagement was still so new in the grand scheme of things, yet there was still so much going on, including Lewis' moving of teams, planning a wedding, and even discussing plans for their future. Despite this, everything felt inescapably right.

In the days that followed, Bree did her best to savor every moment of la dolce vita in Italy. She treated herself to a gorgeous new purse from a chic Milanese boutique, a small but meaningful splurge to mitigate the stress of the looming custody case.

Eventually, though, the time came to head to London and seek solace in Lewis' arms once more. They spent hours making love, trying to lose themselves in the heady oblivion of bare skin and tangled sheets.

Their lovemaking was slow and gentle as if they were trying to hold onto every precious second together before facing what awaited them outside these four walls.

"What if he takes her from me?" Bree couldn't stop the tremor of fear in her voice as she lay nestled against Lewis' chest afterward. "Tom's such a cruel, vindictive person…who knows what lies he'll try to spin about me."

Lewis stroked her hair soothingly, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I won't let that happen, I promise. Is there anything really damning in his past we could use? Any shady business or indiscretions that could discredit him?"

Bree shook her head with a humorless laugh. "Besides being a bastard of a human who can't keep his dick in his pants? Not really. He's an utterly mediocre person, which is almost more maddening."

"Alright then," Lewis said, resolution steeling his tone. "If he wants to fight dirty, we'll be prepared to get dirtier. I'm going to have someone do some digging, just to be safe. Cover all our bases."

Bree opened her mouth to protest, but Lewis cut her off with a tender kiss.

"Don't argue, gorgeous. Let me handle this, okay? You and Sloane are my family now. I'll do whatever it takes to protect you both."

The fierceness in his gaze made Bree's breath catch. She simply nodded, fresh warmth blooming in her chest.

As if on cue, Lewis' phone buzzed to life with a text notification. He glanced at it and smiled.

"Speaking of family…Sloane and your mum just landed. I hope you don't mind, but I may have arranged for them to visit us for a little while."

Bree's eyes widened in surprise. "You did what? Why would you—"

"Because I want my family here with me," Lewis answered simply, cupping her face. "We're a team now, remember? No more going through the hard stuff alone. I've got us."

As he pulled her into a fierce embrace, Bree felt the last remnants of fear and anxiety slip away. No matter what curveballs life threw their way, they would face it head on - together.

The courthouse corridors were hushed and intimidating as Bree strode through them, Lewis' reassuring hand clasped firmly in her own. He had insisted on accompanying her for moral support, even though it meant cutting things perilously close for pre-season testing in Bahrain in two days.

Using a discreet back entrance to avoid prying eyes, they made their way into the designated courtroom and took their seats on the defendant's side. Bree stared across the aisle with a disapproving headshake as her poor excuse for an ex-husband slouched arrogantly in his chair.

Her lawyer, Marcus, placed a tender hand on Bree's shoulder. "Don't worry, we have more than enough evidence on our side to dispute all of his ridiculous claims."

Lewis's insistence on hiring a private investigator to dig into Tom's background had paid off tremendously. They now had proof that, rather than being away at "work conferences" as he claimed, Tom had actually been partying it up with his latest fling, Talia.

The court clerk called them all to order as the judge entered and took her seat. After a brief overview of the case and opposing claims, Tom's attorney launched into his diatribe.

"Your Honor, my client simply wants what's best for his child," the weaselly-looking man began. "Ms. Jamison is an unfit mother who routinely leaves her daughter home alone to gallivant across the world, attending frivolous racing events with her athlete boyfriend."

Bree tensed, but Marcus was already on his feet, armed with printouts of text conversations, photos and more.

"I object, your Honor. We have ample evidence that Ms. Jamison's daughter Sloane was never left unsupervised. She was either in the care of her maternal grandmother or accompanied her mother, along with Mr. Hamilton, on any travel."

The judge narrowed her eyes at Tom's lawyer. "Well? Do you have proof to counter these claims?"

A tellingly uncomfortable silence lingered in the room before the man eventually muttered, "No, your Honor."

"Then I suggest you adjust your angle, counselor," the judge responded sternly. "This does not appear to be a case of abandonment."

Marcus pressed on, conviction in his tone. "The fact is, Mr. King is the one guilty of being an unfit, absentee parent. We have records showing he has consistently missed scheduled visitations with his daughter, instead choosing to wine and dine various romantic distractions."

As damning evidence continued to mount against Tom, Bree could see him slowly deflating in his seat, any bravado evaporating. By the time Marcus concluded his case, it was clear how the judgment would swing.

"Ms. Jamison will maintain full custody of their daughter, with Mr. King still allowed supervised visitation per your original schedule," the judge decreed. "However, let me be very clear…" She fixed Tom with a stern glare. "If you miss three scheduled visits without a legitimate excuse, you'll be back in front of me facing harsher penalties. This appears to be a case of bruised ego more than genuine concern for your child's welfare."

Her gaze softened slightly as it moved to where Lewis sat stoically beside Bree.

"You should be grateful that your daughter has another positive male influence in her life who is so invested. Not many children are that fortunate. I suggest letting go of this petty jealousy act before it damages your relationship with your child further."

As the courtroom cleared out, Bree finally allowed the tears of relief to spill over. She clutched desperately at Lewis, overwhelmed by the punishing stress of the entire ordeal finally being lifted.

"It's over, gorgeous," he murmured, rubbing soothing circles across her back. "You and Sloane are safe, I promise. Let's go home, back to our little family."

Pressing her face into the comforting warmth of his neck, Bree knew those words had never rung true. She had fought for the family she deserved - and somehow, against all odds, she had won.

Weeks followed the custody hearing, Tom had surprisingly upheld his end of the agreement without incident. As Spring Break approached, he was set to have Sloane stay with him for the full week - a stretch of time Bree admittedly felt anxious about.

She moved efficiently around her bedroom, packing a final suitcase for the upcoming trip to New York, Seoul, and Shanghai. She would be accompanying Lewis between his own obligations, a welcome constant amid the whirlwind travel.

Downstairs, Tom sat nursing a glass of water while Lewis sat nearby, the two men united in an uncharacteristic silence. Finally, Lewis cleared his throat.

"Listen, we've never really had a chance to clear the air, man-to-man," he began. "I just want you to know that I love Bree and Sloane with everything in me. Hurting them is the last thing I'd ever want."

Tom's jaw tensed minutely before he exhaled a resigned sigh. "I know that now. And I actually…appreciate you, believe it or not."

He glanced up to meet Lewis' curious stare. "You stepped up as the kind of stand-up father figure I never could be to my own kid. I was too selfish and wrapped up in my own bullshit."

A somber pause lingered before Tom continued. "Have you two discussed… permanent living situations yet? With you being based in Monaco and all?"

Lewis nodded slowly. "Bree brought it up, the idea of us all being there together once we're married. Home for me is wherever she and Sloane are, but Monaco would make the logistics easier."

"And what does Sloane think about that?" Tom asked, surprising Lewis with a hint of paternal interest.

The race car driver couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, her main condition was that we have to bring her pony, Buttercup."

Tom barked out a startled laugh at that. "Sounds about right for my drama queen. She actually loves that damn pony more than her own father…"

The two men shared a look of mutual understanding - their first real moment of camaraderie. Maybe things were finally evening out between them.

"For what it's worth…" Lewis continued carefully. "Bree's nervous about the idea of relocating. I don't want to overstep, but I think she's worried it could impact your time with Sloane."

Tom waved a dismissive hand. "Do what you gotta do, man. As long as I still get to see my kid, I'll make it work on my end. Just…don't fuck this up like I did, alright?"

The sound of footsteps on the stairs interrupted their conversation. Bree descended into the living room, Sloane close on her heels, eyeing the two men suspiciously.

"You two playing nice?" she asked Tom pointedly.

He offered her a small smile and nod. "Yeah…everything's fine, Bree. We're good."

Sloane took the opportunity to run over and squeeze Lewis tightly. "I'm gonna miss you, Lewis!"

"I'll miss you too, princess," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "but I'll be back before you know it, okay?"

As Sloane pulled away, Tom took the chance to lean in close to Bree. "For what it's worth…I really am sorry. For everything," he muttered lowly. "You deserve to be happy."

Surprise flitted across Bree's features before she managed a warm smile. "Thank you, Tom. That means more than you know."

With the goodbyes and well-wishes exchanged, the couple departed. Bree felt the tension seep from her shoulders as they pulled away.

This was just the start of an exciting new adventure - and she couldn't wait to experience it all with Lewis by her side.

-----------------------------------------------------

A few days later, Bree found herself arm-in-arm with her dashing fiancé as they strode the purple carpet ahead of the GQ Global Creativity Awards in New York. She watched with a swell of pride as Lewis knocked out interview after interview with his characteristic charm and professionalism.

Finally, they were able to slip inside, where Bree was delighted to catch up with Mellody Hobson. The two embraced warmly before Mellody's husband, the iconic George Lucas, offered his hand to Bree.

"It's wonderful to finally meet you in person," the legendary filmmaker greeted. "I've heard so much about you and your daughter from Mellody."

Bree felt her cheeks warm slightly as George's warm gaze appraised her. "I bet you have. Did you hear about the whole pony story?"

At the mention, Lewis was already pulling out his phone, queuing up snapshots of Sloane on her pony as he spoke. "Isn't she a natural? I keep telling Bree that Sloane could be a future Olympian at this rate!"

George chuckled, studying the images with an approving nod. "She definitely has the makings of one. You'll have to keep me posted on her progress."

As the two men enthusiastically discussed Sloane's budding equestrian skills, Bree felt a contented glow settle over her. Seeing Lewis so embraced in this extended family circle, so openly smitten with her daughter, felt like a premonition of the wonderful future that lay ahead for all of them, if she and Lewis could just hold on to this feeling forever.

Final part will be out soon….

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

the albatross - m. murdock

a/n: hi everyone! so this is that weird and off putting reader i was mentioning earlier! she's not that weird but she's sort of odd so yeah. also i know bucky is the winter soldier but idk how else to tag this so oh well! i do have lore and stuff for readers time as a soldier so i'll include that in later installments! i was kind of in a writers block and this pushed me out of that. so enjoy! please please tell me what you thought and if you want more! warnings: cursing, mentions of death, war, torture, pain, people being dead, reader having horrible people skills and ptsd, mentions of sex maybe? uhmmm in general reader is just sort of strange and this is her and matt's early relationship, so sorry if i missed anything ! word count: 3.6k summary: you have spent the past ninety (give or take) years tortured and in pain. then, a handsome stranger comes into your life and changes everything. pairing: matt murdock x winter soldier!fem!reader now playing: the albatross - taylor swift "i'm the albatross/i swept in at the rescue/the devil that you know/looks now more like an angel/i'm the life you chose/and all this terrible danger"

You’re working a morning shift at the bakery when he comes in. The pastries in the case are laid out just so, and you have been meticulously working on this sign for your fall specials. You are determined to focus on something that is not how poorly you slept, your hair tied up in a braid behind you as you work.

You’re determined to get these pumpkin stems drawn correctly; a green marker clenched in your hand. Your knuckles are white with the tension you are holding in your fingers. It’s around eight in the god damn morning, and you have been awake since around three a.m.

You don’t even hear the bell ring, nor do you hear the click-clacking of a cane on the tiled floors, you only hear an awkward clearing of the throat, to which you spin around, about to throw the marker at the customer, but stopping when you realize what you’re doing.

The customer smiles awkwardly at you, and you recognize instantly that between his glasses and cane, he is most definitely blind. You almost feel silly, until you remember everything, and you wish that there was more moments where you think you’re silly for being paranoid.

And there’s something else, too. You look at this man for a few moments, before realizing that he is so god damn hot. Which, is weird, because you have not felt anything for any man or woman in years, too busy focusing on other things, too busy thinking about everything that’s happened. But god, the stubble tracing his face, the way his dark hair falls, and the way his hand wraps around his cane..

But what gets you really is his lips. Maybe you’re staring, maybe you don’t care. But his lips are this pretty pink, and you find yourself getting lost in the nicest daydream you’ve had in a very long time..

And then, you snap out of that fantasy to remind yourself that you are working and don’t even know his name.

“Hi, sorry,” You cough awkwardly, “Was just focused,” You tell him, approaching the counter. You wipe your sweaty hands on your apron, before putting on your best ‘I’m a friendly bakery worker who just wants to sell you pastries, also tip me please!’ smile on. “What can I get you?” You ask.

“Do you guys have apple turnovers?” It is the first time this fall that is under 65 degrees, so you understand that there is some cravings for autumn snacks.

“Yeah, yeah,” You move towards the case to get some, “Just the one?”

“Three, actually. For the office.” He hums.

“Some big office,” Your voice is a sarcastic mumble, not really for the an to hear but he chuckles at it, and you almost think it’s weird that he an hear you but your brain tells you not to judge, since there is a whole lot the handsome stranger could judge you for.

“We’re a small business. Very friendly, very personable.”

You cannot help yourself, and you find yourself asking, “What sort of business are you in?” What the handsome stranger does not know is that you are insatiably angry at yourself for asking that because you had pretty much promised yourself that you were never going to have any sort of relationship—it wouldn’t be fair to them, it wouldn’t be fair to you. And as previously established, that wasn’t a problem, because you weren’t really attracted to anyone before this handsome stranger waltzed on into the bakery.

“I’m a lawyer.” He smiles. A lawyer.

“Well, Mr. Lawyer, your total is 10.75.” He pulls out a twenty and when you hand him change, he asks, “Which one is the five?” and you wordlessly pull out the five from the stack you handed him, before he puts the rest of the change in his wallet, dropping a five and a small card into your tip jar. “You have a good day now.” He hums, before making his way out of the bakery.

You watch intently, maybe a little too intently, and you hear the voice of your best friend from your teenage years in your head saying, ‘You hate to see him go, but you love to watch him leave.’ And a small smile finds its way to your face.

Then, you notice the card he dropped in the jar before fishing it out. On the front, it reads,

‘Matthew M. Murdock, Attorney at Law.’ On the back, you read,

‘Nelson, Murdock & Page, Attorneys at Law,

Hell’s Kitchen’

Accompanied by this is a phone number and an address.

You pocket the card, and before you know it, costumers are flooding in, and you ease into the day, forgetting about the handsome stranger until you leave the bakery at around six o’clock that night. You finish cleaning up from the day before letting the woman who works to prep for the next day. Then you leave, heading home to the too quiet, too small apartment.

You don’t have much in your apartment. You sleep with a gun under your pillow and you have a cheap TV on your dresser. You spend most of your time catching up on books or movies. You make yourself box mac and cheese before eating it right out of the pot, sitting on your kitchen floor.

As you cook the mac and cheese, you say his name over and over again, letting it sit on your tongue and escape your lips, thinking about him intently. You glance at your watch and decide that maybe it’s early enough that he might still be at his office.

You fish your tiny flip phone out of your pocket, dialing the number on the card and waiting. You’re holding your breath as the phone rings. A thought runs through your brain that maybe he gave you a wrong number and then your brain immediately reminds you that no man is ever going to give you his card, printed out, just to fuck with you.

“Nelson, Murdock & Page, how can I help you?” A voice asks, and you blink, hesitating for a minute.

“Uh, I’m looking for Matthew.” You say, and there’s some light shuffling, and again, this regret shoots over you until you hear a very smooth, very familiar voice,

“Hey,” His voice is like honey and you long to hear it clearer—The first time you’ve desired a better phone. “I was hoping you’d call.”

“Yeah, well, Maybe I just like the sound of your voice.”

“You know usually, that’s my line.”

“Wait, that works on people?” You hear his laugh on the other side of the phone and a shiver runs down your spine as you itch to make him laugh more.

“Telling people they’re beautiful doesn’t hit the same when you’re blind.”

“I guess not..” There’s a silence on his end of the phone, before he says,

“I never got your name.” For a moment, you consider giving him a fake name, but you find yourself giving him your name, the one that your parents gave you all those years ago. It’s foreign on your lips, a rare gem that you do not often give out. He repeats it and you swear you could almost die right then and there. “What are you doing tonight?” 

You’re taken back by his forwardness, not anticipating that maybe this handsome stranger, Matthew, wants to be around you just as bad as you want to be around him. And then you look around at your dingy apartment, with your boxy TV, the gun under your pillow, and you, sitting on the floor of your kitchen, having just finished eating box mac and cheese with a wooden spoon that just for a second tastes like the one your mother used to cook with, the one you’d get tastes of sauces, soups, anything you could get your hands on.

And then you remember everything that happened after those days sneaking tastes of your mom’s cooking and you feel guilty for pursuing handsome Matthew, because he has no idea what he is getting into.

“Just finished dinner. Was planning on just relaxing.” Reading until around midnight and then getting an hour or two of sleep.

“Well, how about we go do something?” You detect a bit of hopefulness in his voice. You find yourself asking before you can stop yourself,

“Like, like a date?” And he laughs again.

“Yes, like a date.”

“I don’t know,” You start, “Usually I have to ask my father’s permission before I go out on the town with a boy.” You want to slap your hand over your mouth because you sound your age. Oh god.

“Really?”

“..No.” You hope he finds your weird, totally not a cover up, joke funny. And he laughs again, telling you,

“You’re funny.”

Yeah, really fucking hilarious.

“So, a date?”

“A date.” You consider this for a moment. A date might lead somewhere real. Somewhere dangerous. Somewhere you haven’t been in.. years. Years might be an understatement. Your heart thuds against your chest, and you find yourself full of that nostalgic thing you call desire.

“What would we do?”

“Anything you want.” He tells you.

“Anything? That’s dangerous.” Because this whole thing is dangerous, you want to tell him, maybe you should mention the whole age thing, the whole assassin thing, the whole brainwashing thing, the whole thing.

“Yeah? What dangerous things do you have in mind, doll?” You have to hold the phone away from your ear to breathe, because it feels like someone just took the winds out of your sails. Suddenly it is 1940 something and a boy is flirting with you, and you have to act like a lady in hopes that he will treat you right.

Odd thing to think about today, but you’re an odd person.

“What about ice cream and a bookstore?” You ask, and for a moment you want to hit yourself for not suggesting something cool like a club or something and then you realize that you have no idea what counts as a cool date in this day and age.

Did you know when you were a teenager and had the world at your fingertips, eighty (give or take) years ago?

But to your surprise, handsome Matthew just responds,

“That sounds nice. Do you want me to pick you up at your apartment?”

The idea of handsome Matthew being at your tiny apartment that is not suitable for a date makes your heart race.

“I’ll meet you at the ice cream place in an hour. You know the one near the bakery?”

“Yeah. See you then.”

“Yeah. See you.” And when you hang up, you realize just what has happened. For the first time since 1944, You have landed yourself a date with a handsome man that is genuinely interested in you and in your infinite wisdom decided that ice cream and books were the best way to impress him.. Books.. Blind man.

You lightly bang your head against the counter behind you, muttering to yourself how stupid that was. But you an only dwell on it for a moment before you are standing up and making your way over to your room to get ready.

You’re still in your work uniform. And you look like an idiot. So, you clean yourself up and pull on something presentable, something comfortable. There is no confusion as to the nature of this meet up, you two are going on a date and you asked a blind man to go to a bookstore. You feel like an asshole. And you’re aware that you’re putting emphasis on that, but still!

You go through outfits and outfits, trying to figure out what an appropriate outfit is for this first date. You end up in something casual, and you hope you’re not underdressed. Honestly, you know you’re making a fuss over something as standard as a date, but you are genuinely desperate to have this go well.

You finally decide on an outfit and make your way out the door, grabbing your jacket and stepping out of the apartment. You stop outside of your door before turning around and going back into your room to change your top.

But eventually, you do get to the ice cream place Matt and you had discussed on the phone. And there he is, in all his glory, wearing the same outfit he wore when you saw him in the bakery that morning, only, without his tie, and he looks more disheveled. Somehow it’s more charming to see him like this, more exhilarating to imagine a life with such a low stakes man (You’ll look back on this thought later and laugh)

“Hi,” You greet, and Matt smiles in your direction.

“Hi.” He hums, and again, you feel nervous! So, before he can say much else, you blurt out,

“So, This is my first date in a while.. So. Sorry about that.” You say awkwardly.

“A while?” He asks, tilting his head like a curious dog. You’re struck by the fact that he is around 70 years younger than you. “Like, a few months?”

A beat.

Handsome Matthew is much busier than you are, it seems.

“More like a couple of years.” And by ‘a couple’ you mean eighty some odd years, but Matt doesn’t need to know all of that right now. But he just hums and nods, before answering,

“That’s alright, I’ll be gentle.” Your face flushes, and with a nervous laugh, you ask,

“You mean we’ll take it slow?”

“Sure. Whatever. We’ll figure out the details of it all later.” His hand finds yours, and before you can protest he pulls you into the ice cream shop. Handsome Matthew orders chocolate chip cookie dough because he is perfect in every way, and you order..

“Butter pecan, please.” You get odd glances from Matthew and the seventeen year old minimum wage worker behind the counter, but neither of them say anything. You manage to beat Matthew to paying for the ice cream, and as you walk, he asks,

“Butter pecan? Really?” And you roll your eyes. Young people today, always judging.

“You’re lucky they didn’t have butterscotch, that’s my real favorite.” You respond, before taking a lick of the ice cream. Your handsome date, gives you another bizarre look.

“Okay, what’s your third favorite ice cream flavor?”

“Mm..” You take a few minutes to think about it, before deciding on your answer. “A tie between pistachio and coffee.” And at your answer, Matt laughs at you. You let out an offended gasp, although you’re not being serious, before asking, “what’s so horrible about that?”

“You have the ice cream preferences of an eighty year old,” He laughs and you laugh too, because oh, if only he knew.

“Sorry, my pallet is straight from the 40’s.” It’s a joke. That’s a joke. Not at all based in facts or actuality. You continue working through eating your ice cream and talking to your handsome date. “So, does the handsome lawyer have any family I should know about?”

“You think I’m handsome?” He grins, and your face flushes.

“Answer the question.”

“No siblings. My dad died when I was young and It’s only recently that I’ve been talking to my mother.” Interesting, you think, and then this dawning realization happens where you realize that the next thing out of his mouth will be the inevitable question, “How about your family?”

You consider lying but you decide against it. If this is going to lead anywhere good, you don’t want to base it off lies.

“Not much to say. I’m the sole survivor.” You shrug, keeping it vague. He frowns a bit before squeezing your hand.

“A couple of orphans, huh?”

You squeeze his back.

“Seems like it.”

You kind of aren’t over the death of your parents and your siblings and quite literally everyone you knew as a teenager and young adult—You’re not over so many fucking things that if you went through it all, you’d probably keep poor Handsome Matthew up all night.

But instead of talking about that, Matt finds himself walking with you to the bookstore. You hold the door open for him and begin to wander. You quickly move past the books on World War II, as if faced with an ex you want nothing to do with them.

You begin to look at the romance books, scrunching your nose at how cheesy and surface level so many of these young adult novels are. But then you remind yourself that you are a hundred years old. But you look like you’re in your late twenties, early thirties. As you’re looking at the books, Matthew makes his way to the aisle next to yours, and talks to you through the stacks.

“So, what’s your favorite book?”

“That’s like asking a mother her favorite child.” You answer quickly, and you hear him laugh. Your face flushes.

“Try for me.”

“Uh, I really love Great Gatsby. I’m kind of fascinated with the zombie genre, too, it’s sort of new and interesting, and uh, oh, I read this Neil Gaiman novel, uh, Stardust? I really liked that.” You confess. Matt listens as you fumble through novels, both of you making your way towards the end of the aisle.

“And movies?”

“Why is everything about me? I didn’t hear your favorite novel.”

“The Outsiders.” He responds, and you make a mental note to try and find it in the bookstore. “So, movies?”

You’ve had autonomy for around three years now, so.. Your movie knowledge has been kind of stunted, so you wrack your brain to try and come up with something impressive.

“I really like the Indiana Jones series, uh, oh, The Matrix, and..” You ponder your brain. “Oh! And King Kong!” You saw that one in the theatres for your thirteenth birthday.

“Like, the one that came out in 2017?” He asks, and again, you consider lying, because you actually have seen that one because when you looked up ‘King Kong’ it came out, and it really blew your mind how far CGI had come.

“No, the one that came out in ’33.” As if it is the most normal thing in the entire world.

“One of your favorite movies is one from 1933?” And the old woman in you wants to insist that you loved the decades you grew up in, and that seeing King Kong in the theatres was a marvelous thing because you could barely afford rent. And then you remember you shouldn’t reveal your history with the Great Depression to a man you’re on your first date with.

“Yup.” You assert, and ask, “You?”

“Star Wars, any of them, and the Princess Bride.” Again, you make a note to add it to your list.

“Interesting.” You hum, and you find The Outsiders, wanting to read it, to consume it, to consume him, and every thought he has. The two of you meet at the end of the aisle, too close to be platonic as his hands come to find your arms, and you shudder at the affection.

“Touch starved, huh?” He grins. You flush and roll your eyes.

“You’re so mean.” You huff, and he laughs. His hand moves up your arms and cups your jaw, enjoying the feeling of your warm cheeks.

“Well, you’re odd.”

“Odd?”

“Everything about you. Your movie tastes, your jokes, your ice cream flavors.” He hums, with a soft shrug. “It’s not a bad thing, I’m just.. Trying to figure you out.”

“You’d be the first to accomplish such a feat.”

He laughs at that, and he’s so beautiful.. That you cannot help yourself when you lean up and gently press a soft kiss to those beautiful pretty pink lips that had caught your attention that morning. He kisses you back, without hesitation.

You feel at peace for the first time in years, as if everything you had gone through, every moment of torture and pain, has been worth it because it leads you to this. To Handsome Matthew, who kisses you so tenderly that no matter how simple it is, you are left breathless and desperate for more. You lean into him, deepening the kiss, pushing him back a bit, his back pressed against the stacks. The book in your hands is crumpled, and eventually, Matthew pulls away, before pushing you back a bit.

“Easy,” He says breathlessly, and you need the reminder, because you try to catch your breath. Holy shit. “Easy, easy..” he repeats, his hands rubbing up and down your arms a bit. “I’ve got you, just breath.” He laughs, and you lean your forehead against your shoulder. Fuck.

“When can I see you again?” Is your only thought, and he chuckles gently.

“Whenever you want.” He promises, and you nod, before leaning up to kiss him again.

One day you’ll tell him everything. You’ll tell him all of the horrible things you’ve done and have had done to you, and you’ll tell him why the nightmares came, and why they won’t ever go away. One day, you’ll tell handsome Matthew why you sleep with a gun under your pillow and why you have no family and why you are so odd.

For now, you decide that you deserve a few nice things.

And when he kisses back, you realize that maybe he is just as infatuated with you as you are with him. Maybe. Maybe he is full of secrets and his own horrors that plague him while he sleeps, and maybe that’s the unspoken reason you are so deeply fascinated with one another.

Maybe.

Maybe you’ve spent the past ninety years going from fight to fight, to nightmare to nightmare. Maybe you’re owed some time in the sun with Handsome Matthew.

Maybe.

[mrk236547789]

Lilly's Rose

It was just another ordinary day at school. Or so I thought. I was sitting at my desk, mindlessly doodling on my notebook, when suddenly I felt a strange sensation in my abdomen. At first, I dismissed it as indigestion from the greasy pizza I had for lunch. But then it came back, stronger this time, accompanied by a sharp pain that made me wince.

I knew something wasn't right. I excused myself from class and hurried to the restroom, locking myself inside a stall. I clutched my abdomen, feeling the rhythmic tightening and relaxing of my muscles. It was like my body was trying to push something out.

Panic started to set in as the pain intensified. I tried to breathe deeply, but the nausea overpowered me. I leaned over the toilet,

I heard footsteps approaching the stall, followed by the familiar voice of my best friend, Emma. "Hey, what's taking you so long? I've been knocking for like, five minutes!" she said, her voice muffled through the door.

"Just… give me a minute, Em," I managed to say between gasps of air. I didn't have the energy to explain what was happening to her right now.

There was another sharp pain, and this time, I couldn't hold back a muffled scream. I clutched my stomach even harder.

"Hey, are you okay in there?" Emma called again, her voice filled with concern. "I'm really worried, Lily. Can you please open the door?"

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. "I'm fine, Em," I lied. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

There was another contraction, and this time, I opened the stall door and went back to class.

Emma followed me, looking worried. "Lily, are you sure you should be here? Maybe you should go see the nurse or something," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I forced a weak smile. "I'll be fine, Em. I just need to sit down for a bit, that's all." I gestured to an open seat in the back of the classroom. "Why don't you take that one, and we can catch up on what we missed later, okay?"

Emma hesitated for a moment before finally nodding. She sat down at the desk, her eyes never leaving mine. "Okay, Lily. But if you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

I forced a reassuring smile, trying to ignore the pain that still throbbed in my abdomen. "I will, Em. Thanks."

The rest of the class went by in a blur. Every time a contraction hit, I had to bite down on my lip to keep from crying out. I tried to focus on the lesson, but the only thing I could think about was what was happening to my body.

Finally, the bell rang for the end of class. Emma hurried over to me, her eyes wide with concern. "Lily, are you sure you should be going home like this? Maybe you should see the nurse or something," she said, her voice shaking.

"I'll be fine, Em," I insisted, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "It's probably just a stomach bug or something. I'll just head home and rest, okay?"

Emma looked like she wanted to argue, but she finally nodded. "Okay, Lily. But if it gets worse or anything, you promise me you'll call me, right? Or your mom?"

I forced a weak smile. "I promise, Em."

As I walked out of the classroom, my insides felt like they were being twisted and turned into knots. Every step was excruciating, and I had to hold my breath to try and block out the pain. I made my way through the hallways, my face growing paler by the second. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Finally, I reached my locker. I stood there for a moment, gathering my strength before opening it. As I reached inside to grab my bag, another contraction hit, sending waves of pain coursing through my body. I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes, trying to breathe through it.

"Lily? Are you okay?" I heard a concerned voice say. I forced my eyes open and saw my friend Sarah standing beside me. "You don't look so good. Should I call someone?"

I tried to smile reassuringly, but the pain made it difficult. "I-I'm fine, Sarah. I just…think I'm coming down with something. I'll be okay to go home."

Sarah hesitated for a moment, her brow furrowed with concern. "Are you sure? You don't look so good. Maybe you should go see the nurse or something, just to be safe?"

I forced a smile, trying to reassure her. "Thanks, Sarah, but I think I'll be okay. I just need to get to my boyfriend's house and rest, that's all." I took a deep breath, trying to steady my shaking hands as another contraction began to build inside me.

Sarah glanced at her watch. "Well, I'm headed to the library after school. Do you want me to walk you there? Or at least to your car?"

I bit my lip, trying to hide the pain that was coursing through my body. "Thanks, Sarah, but I'll be fine. I can manage on my own. But…thanks for the offer, you're a good friend."

Sarah smiled, her eyes narrowing with concern. "Okay, Lily. If you're sure. But if you need anything, just give me a call, okay?"

I nodded, forcing a weak smile. "I will, Sarah. Thanks again." I turned away from her and took a shaky step towards the exit, my body still wracked with pain. As I made my way through the hallway, my vision began to blur and my legs felt like jelly. I couldn't help but wonder if Sarah was right if I should have gone to see the nurse or someone. But it was too late now. I had to keep going.

The walk to my boyfriend's house seemed to take forever, each step more agonizing than the last. My stomach churned violently, and I was sure that I was going to throw up at any moment. My breath came in ragged gasps as another contraction hit, forcing me to double over in pain. I didn't know what was happening to me, but I knew that I couldn't keep going like this.

Finally, I reached the door of his house. I barely managed to raise my hand to knock before another contraction hit, making me stumble backward. After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened and my boyfriend, Mark, peered out at me. His face registered surprise and concern as he took in my pale, sweaty appearance.

"Lily? What's wrong? Are you feeling okay?" he asked, reaching out to steady me. I leaned into his touch, grateful for the support.

"Mark…I need you to fuck me.

"His eyes widened, confusion written all over his face. "Lily, are you sure? You don't look well. Do you want me to call a doctor or something?"

I shook my head, my breath coming in ragged gasps as another contraction gripped my insides. "No…not a doctor. I want you to fuck me. Please, Mark. I need it."

His eyes darted around, clearly torn between his concern for my well-being and his arousal at my request. Finally, he stepped back, opening the door wider to let me in. "Okay…but I think you should lie down first. You don't look so good."

I nodded, my breath coming in short gasps as another contraction racked my body. "I'll…be fine…just…need…" I trailed off, gripping his arm for support as I fought through the pain. He guided me into the living room, sitting me down on the couch before disappearing upstairs.

A moment later, he returned, his expression a mix of concern and desire. He knelt before me, his hands gentle on my hips as he pulled my pants down, revealing my underwear-clad sex. Without waiting for him to finish, I reached down, hooking my fingers into the waistband and pulling them aside. His eyes darkened, and he leaned forward, his lips brushing against my skin as he kissed me.

"Are you sure this is what you want, baby?" he whispered, his breath hot against my folds. "Because I'm not gonna stop until you tell me to."

I nodded, biting my lip as another contraction wracked my body. "Yes…I…just…need it…in me…" My voice was little more than a whisper, my words coming out in ragged gasps as the pain consumed me. He leaned forward, his eyes meeting mine, and then slowly, carefully, he positioned himself at my entrance. The head of his erection pressed against me, and I felt a brief flash of pain before he began to push inside.

"Deep breaths, baby," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "You're doing great." His hips began to move, thrusting slowly in and out of me as he found a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through my body despite the agony that still gripped me.

As another contraction hit, Mark's hands tightened on my hips, his nails digging into my skin. "Fuck, Lily, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice raw. His thrusts grew deeper and harder, driving into me with a force that I hadn't known he possessed.

I arched my back, crying out as the sensation overtook me. My muscles tensed and relaxed in time with his movements, my body instinctively responding to the release of the pain. "Oh God…I'm…I'm close…" I managed to choke out between ragged gasps.

Mark's thrusts grew harder and faster, his hips slamming against mine in an almost violent rhythm. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with the effort. "Cum with me, baby…let it go…" He leaned forward, his lips finding my neck, sucking and nipping at my skin as he drove deeper still.

My body responded in kind, my muscles tensing and relaxing in time with his movements. "Oh God…I'm…I'm…" The words dissolved into incoherent moans as pleasure washed over me, sweeping away the last vestiges of pain. My nails dug into his shoulders, urging him on as I felt the tension build within me.

Milk started to flow from my tits.

"Oh fuck, Lily…" Mark groaned, his body trembling as he came inside me. His thrusts slowed, his hips moving more gently as he released himself into me. "That was amazing…you're amazing." His lips found mine, and he kissed me tenderly, his tongue darting out to trace the shape of my lips.

My body was still wracked with aftershocks from the orgasm, my muscles quivering with the sensation. Milk continued to flow from my breasts, dripping down my chest and onto the bed. Mark must have noticed, because he leaned forward, licking his lips and then sucking at one of my nipples.

"You're so beautiful, Lily," he murmured, his voice husky. "And so sexy." He slid his hand between my legs, rubbing gently at my swollen folds. "I can't get enough of you."

I moaned softly, arching my back into his touch. "Mark…" I whispered, my voice trembling with desire. "I think I just peed.

He chuckled softly, kissing my neck. "It's okay, baby. We can change the sheets later. Right now, I just want to enjoy you." His fingers continued to tease at my sensitive folds, and I felt another wave of pleasure wash over me.

I arched my back, gasping as my body tensed again. "Mark…" I moaned, my voice thick with desire. "Don't stop…I need…"

He smiled against my skin, his fingers moving faster as he found my G-spot. "You need this, baby? You need me?" He slid his other hand between my legs, spreading me open as his thumb found my clit.

I arched my back, crying out as pleasure consumed me. "Yes…I need you…please…" I felt my body begin to shudder, my muscles tensing and relaxing in rhythm with his touch. "Oh God…I'm…I'm…"

Mark's lips found mine, his tongue tangling with mine as he thrust deep inside my mouth. His hips began to move faster, his cock rubbing against my G-spot with each thrust. "That's it, baby…let go…" He growled into the kiss, his fingers digging deeper as he found my clit.

I moaned into his mouth, my body arching off the bed as I felt my orgasm building. "I'm…I'm…cumming…" The words were barely audible as pleasure washed over me, and my body convulsed with wave after wave of ecstasy. I could feel every muscle in my core contracting, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

Mark's thrusts grew faster and deeper, his body moving in perfect rhythm with mine. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me tightly as he found his release, his body tense and shuddering above me. He groaned, his hips bucking roughly as he emptied himself inside me.

My body was still shaking from the aftermath of my orgasm, my muscles quivering with pleasure. I wrapped my legs around Mark, holding him close as I felt his weight press down on me. He collapsed on top of me, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to catch his breath.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his lips trailing down my neck. "I've never felt anything like that."

I couldn't help but smile, my body still trembling from the aftershocks. "Neither have I," I confessed, running my fingers through his sweat-damp hair. "I didn't think it could feel so good."

He laughed softly, kissing me again. "I could tell you've never been with anyone else," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You were so tight…and so ready for me." His fingers traced lazy circles around my still-sensitive clit, and I felt another wave of pleasure wash over me.

I arched my back into his touch, moaning his name. "Mark…I don't think I can…" I trailed off, unable to find the words to express how good it felt. He smiled against my skin, his hips beginning to move again, his cock rubbing against me in a way that sent shivers through my entire body.

"You can take it, baby," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "You're so tight and wet, you were made for me." His fingers found my clit again, teasing and circling as his other hand held my hip.

I moaned, arching into his touch. "Oh God, Mark…I can't…" His movements were so skillful, so knowing, that it sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body. "My water just broke"

His hands stilled on my hips, and he pulled back to look at me. Fear flashed across his face. "Are you sure?" He asked, his voice tight. "Maybe it was just…you know…"

I nodded, my heart racing. "No, I'm positive. My water just broke." I looked down at the wet spot on the bed beneath us, my stomach doing flips. "Oh my God, Mark…I think…I think I'm in labor."

He froze, his eyes wide with fear. "Shit, are you sure?" He asked, his voice shaking. "Maybe it's just…too soon."

I nodded, tears welling up in my eyes. "I don't know, Mark. It just feels…different. Like something's happening."

He swallowed hard, his gaze darting around the room. "Shit, shit, shit." He rolled off me, moving to the edge of the bed. "I need to call the doctor."

I sat up, "No…time…FUCK" I screamed as another contraction hit me, doubling me over. Mark reached out, trying to steady me, but I pushed him away. "You…you stay back." My voice was raw with fear and pain. "You stay away from me and the baby."

He looked stricken, his eyes wide with horror. "I'm sorry, I just…I don't know what to do." He began to pace the room, his hands running through his hair. "I should call 911. Maybe they can help."

My heart raced, panic rising within me. "No, no hospitals," I cried, gripping the sheets. "They'll take her away from me. You have to help me." My voice broke, and I began to sob uncontrollably.

Mark hesitated, his expression filled with fear and uncertainty. "Okay," he finally said. "Okay, I'll do whatever you want. But I need you to calm down, okay? You're scaring me." He moved back to sit beside me on the bed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I'm here for you, baby. I'm not going anywhere."

I took a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. "There's…there's the BABIES HEAD," I sobbed. "I…I feel it." I reached between my legs, and he looked away, his hands trembling. "Oh God, I…I think I'm pushing."

Mark swallowed hard, his eyes filled with fear. "Okay, okay. Just breathe with me, all right? One…two…three." He held me close, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back as I tried to follow his lead. "That's it, honey. Just focus on the breaths."

Another contraction hit me, harder than the last, and I cried out, my body tensing. "I can't…I can't do this," I sobbed, tears streaming down my face. "It hurts so much."

Mark held me close, his hand stroking my hair. "I know it does, baby, but you're doing great. Just breathe with me." He kissed my forehead, his lips trembling. "You can do this. You're strong."

Another contraction hit, and I cried out, my body convulsing. "Oh God, Mark," I gasped between sobs. "It hurts so much."

He held me close, his grip tight. "I know it does, baby, but you're doing amazing. Just focus on me, okay? Just breathe with me." His voice was steady, reassuring. "That's it…that's it…good job."

Another contraction hit, and I cried out, my body tensing. "I…I can't…" I sobbed, my voice breaking. "I can't do this."

Mark held me close, his grip firm. "You're doing amazing, baby," he whispered, kissing my forehead. "You can do this. Just focus on me, okay?" He stroked my hair, his touch soothing. "That's it…just breathe with me."

Another contraction hit, and I cried out, my body tensing. "Oh God, Mark," I sobbed, feeling the pain tear through me. "I…I don't think I can…"

Mark held me close, his grip firm. "You can do this, baby," he whispered, kissing my forehead. "I'm here with you, and we're going to get through this together." He wiped away my tears, his own eyes filling with tears as well. "Just focus on my voice, okay? Just listen to my voice, and breathe with me."

Another contraction hit, harder than the last, and I cried out, my body tensing. "Oh God, Mark," I sobbed, feeling the pain tear through me. "I can't…I can't do this."

He held me close, his grip firm. "You're doing amazing, baby," he whispered, kissing my forehead. "Just focus on me, okay? Just breathe with me." His voice was steady, reassuring. "That's it…that's it…good job."

Another contraction hit, and I cried out, my body tensing. "Oh God, Mark," I sobbed, my voice breaking. "I…I can't…"

Sarah and Emma show up at the house, panic filling their eyes. what going on? They saw the head peek out under the skirt. Are you having a baby? they both ask. It's not time yet, I reply. They both look confused. The pain comes again, and I cry out. It's time, Mark says. I can feel the baby crowning. He helps me to the bed, positioning me carefully. The pain is unbearable, but I know I have to push. I focus on Mark's words, and I push with all my might. The room is a blur of pain and panic, but I can feel Mark's hands guiding me, urging me to keep going.

WHAT'S GOING ON? my mom says, her voice full of fear. Mark just nods, not taking his eyes off of me. I feel another contraction coming, and I push again, my body tensing. I can feel the baby's head moving closer and closer to the outside world. The pain is unbearable, but I know I can't stop now.

Sarah and Emma exchange worried glances as they watch me struggle. They've never seen anything like this before. "You're doing great," Sarah whispers, squeezing my hand. "Just keep pushing." I can feel the relief in her voice, but I know she's still terrified.

Another contraction hits, and I push with all my might. The baby's head is almost out now, and I can feel the burning sensation between my legs. "I…I can't…I can't do this," I sob, my voice breaking. But Mark holds me tight, his touch gentle but firm.

"That's it, baby," he whispers, his voice steady. "Just one more push, and you'll be holding your little one in your arms." His words give me strength I didn't know I had, and I push one final time. There's a wet, ripping sensation, and the baby slides out of me.

Mark catches the baby, cradling her in his arms. Tears stream down his face as he looks down at our beautiful daughter, her tiny body covered in a sheen of amniotic fluid. "She's perfect," he whispers, his voice filled with wonder.

I look down at her too, my tears blurring my vision. "She is," I manage to choke out. "She's perfect." I feel a surge of love and protectiveness wash over me, and I reach out to touch her tiny hand.

[smartycvnt]

Title: Talk It Out

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Word Count: 984

You felt like everything was a bit too much. You had been fed loss after loss on the biggest stages offered. Tonight, however, it felt a little more personal. You hadn't been up for a championship, but it was your first time wrestling in your hometown in nearly five years. You had hoped for a win, to be hailed as a winner in your homecoming match, but instead, you had been humiliated.

You didn't know where you were going as you stormed off backstage. Everybody avoided you like the plague. Anger and discontent radiated off of you in waves. The looks of pity only made it all worse, so you went to the one place where nobody else would know to go.

The years spent working at this venue as a teenager had paid off well. All of the old secrets you had discovered were left how you remembered them. The stairwell leading up to the roof was still well hidden behind a janitor's closet door. You made your way up there, not expecting to be followed. It was supposed to be your chance to truly be alone for a few moments.

"Ash," Rhea called out softly. You didn't turn to look back at her. Still, she approached and sat down next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a fucking loser. He told me things would be different, and the first major live event we have here, I get fucking squashed," you ranted. Rhea placed her hand on the small of your back. Usually, you would have leaned into the touch, but you couldn't handle any more humiliation. "Rhea, don't."

"What?" Rhea didn't bother hiding her surprise. You always leaned into her embraces and touches. It was a simple pleasure that Rhea could always count on. Her feelings for you had always kept her up at night. There was always a little voice in her head shouting at her to say or do something, but Rhea never did.

"I can't handle any more humiliation, so please just don't. Go downstairs and forget that I even came up here," you told her. Rhea's brows knit together in confusion. You sounded desperate and conflicted.

"What's humiliating about being comforted?" You had always been one to champion getting help when you needed it. Rhea knew that she'd be so much worse off mentally if it wasn't for you. You preached self love and care like nobody else, so Rhea really didn't understand why you were pushing her away when it was obvious that you needed someone.

"What happened to being kind to yourself? What happened to accepting love and comfort when you can't give it to yourself?" Rhea asked. She didn't mean to sound so angry with you, but she couldn't help the raising of her voice. You flinched away a little, just as much as you could without moving out of her arms.

"Rhea, please," you pleaded.

"Talk to me. Tell me what's going on," Rhea said. You dropped your head against her shoulder and turned to try and hide your tears. Rhea could feel them soaking through the fabric of her shirt. In that moment, everything around you was Rhea. You relished in the momentary comfort that her presence granted you before it was ripped away. You hated that you got so in your head about Rhea. The two of you had been friends for years, and your feelings had never gotten in the way before.

"I love you," you mumbled against Rhea's skin.

"I love you too, Ash." The way that Rhea said it broke your heart. You had heard it a million times before, and it didn't sound any different. She had obviously heard you, but Rhea didn't understand. Once again, she felt your hot tears begin to soak into the collar of her shirt. "What's wrong? I hate seeing you like this. Tell me what I can do to help."

"You can't do anything. You've got Dom, and I'm stuck here by myself. There will always be a long line of people who come before me, and I thought that I was okay with it, but I'm not. I love you, and I want so much more than what we've got." You were practically sobbing into her at this point. Rhea gently cupped your cheeks as she pulled your face out from the crook of her neck.

"I need you to look at me. I need you to listen to me, not just hear me, but listen, okay?" Rhea gave you a moment to compose yourself before she spoke again, "I love you too. I feel the same way about you, okay?"

"Y-you do?" You couldn't believe it. You needed to hear Rhea tell you again. It would have been your luck for her to not mean it and start laughing in your face. However, that never came. Instead, you felt the gentle press of her lips against yours. You kissed her back, just as gently as she kissed you.

"I love you. I'll say it a million more times if I have to, but there are better ways for me to show you," Rhea laughed nervously. Your eyes lit up as her words registered in your brain. "Let's get back down there. A lot of people are worried about you, and if I kiss you again, I'm not sure that I'd be able to stop myself from doing more. I've wanted this for a long time."

"Me too." You smiled at Rhea as the two of you stood up and made your way back down to everybody else. Rhea had you tucked under her good arm as she walked you to the locker room so that you could get out of your gear and into your regular clothes. A few people came up to check on you, but they kept a decent distance because of Rhea's proximity to you.

[layersofsymbolism]

With all the talk of dancing today, you all have inspired me. This is a lead-in to the spicy Zevlor fic I wrote a while ago, typed furiously on my phone while I was at work. Apologies for any formatting issues, y'all know I'm garbage at that anyway.

“Dance with me?”

Zevlor’s head snaps up as you approach. He’d been standing alone beyond the firelight as if trying to blend in with the darkness, his arms crossed, staring at a random spot on the ground somewhere in front of him. Glowering, to your estimation. You had been looking for him, and the soft siren call of the tiefling’s presence drew you to him here in the dim flickering of the distant fires. He looks for a moment like a startled deer, before flinching and sketching a brief bow. “I beg your pardon, my lady. I was miles away. Did you need something?”

You laugh softly and hold out your hand. “I asked you to dance with me, Zevlor. Please?”

He looks at your outstretched fingers and swallows, staring at your hand as if it were a snake about to strike. “Oh… I do not… I am not very good at dancing. There are others who would be better for… hm.” His consternation is so adorable, you think, but you don’t let up, instead moving closer, gazing up as the flames in his eyes pulse lightly. He tenses a little, as if preparing to bolt. “You should try Ikaron. He can… or even Alfira. She’s a wonderful dancer. I am afraid I may just trip over my feet and embarrass us both.” But his hands twitch, clawed fingers briefly flexing, and you sense the heat of him rising. If his skin weren’t already a beautiful shade of deep red, you’d have sworn he was blushing.

You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes at him playfully. “Alfira is playing the music. And Ikaron seems so determined not to enjoy himself… everyone else has a partner. I am afraid it will have to be you, Commander. Would you really deny me one little dance?” You let yourself pout a little, and risk touching him, placing your hand lightly over his where it grips his biceps.

He swallows again tightly, looking down at your hand, before allowing himself to relax a bit. “I think I could deny you nothing… I mean…” he coughs, “alright. One song. But you must forgive me if I disappoint. I am more accustomed to the battlefield and the barracks than genteel society functions.” He smiles, finally and slips his fingers into yours. His hand is incredibly warm, and grips you firmly. His other joins, chafing lightly at the dorsal surface. “Your hands are cold.” His eyes widen as he realizes what he’s said. “That wasn’t meant to be a criticism. I know that you are… just… let’s just go.”

“I think you’re warm enough for the both of us.” You giggle softly and begin to lead him closer to the fire, where groups and couples are swirling around Alfira, who is currently playing a lively number on her lute and singing gaily. You catch her eye and she nods, grinning, and shortly brings her tune to an end amidst the laughter and applause. She tunes the instrument for a few minutes, giving the dancers time to grab a drink and reset themselves. You pull Zevlor into position, placing yourself before him and smiling up into his eyes. He gulps, and then, as Alfira’s nimble fingers caress the strings in a more sedate, almost sensual melody, he bows, takes your hands, and begins to move.

His steps are not vigorous or intricate, but he has a warrior’s grace as he guides you around him, turning to keep you in his sight. Those burning eyes never leave you, even when he cups your waist and lifts you easily before turning in a quick circle and setting you down again. A soft smile spreads on his angular face, his hands more confident. A dip, a rise, a light press of his palm on your back. He mainly moves your body, keeping his feet in roughly the same spot as the dance goes on. He is certainly not tripping over himself, you note as he twirls you once, twice, appearing to actually be enjoying himself for the moment. You feel the heat of him as he pulls your back briefly to his chest, swaying before guiding you back out again. You see his free hand curl loosely around a lock of your flying hair, letting the silken strands flow through his fingers. His tail, which curls sinuously around him, occasionally brushes against your bare ankles. As the song ends, he draws you flush against him, with a hand on your lower back, and goes still.

His eyes burn into you, his hand warm on you, and he wets his lips, suddenly looking rather frightened. Your stomach flip flops as you get a glimpse of two tapered points. He usually speaks tightly, through gritted teeth, so you’ve never noticed that his tongue is forked. His gaze moves to your own mouth, and he catches his lower lip with his sharp pointed teeth. You let your hand drift up his chest, curling around his shoulder, and apply just a whisper of pressure. Inviting him to do what he so obviously wants. His grip tightens as the world fades, and  you part your lips with a tiny gasp when he begins to lower his head.

A sudden, loud wolf whistle cuts through the fog, making you both jump, and Zevlor’s head jerks up, quickly smothering a frustrated snarl. Everyone is looking at the two of you, their eyes glowing with tipsy tiefling amusement. He smiles thinly, releasing you and lifting his palms in good-natured surrender before taking your hand and leading you back to his previous spot, followed by laughing applause and a few catcalls.

Your heart is racing as you take your position by his side. He relaxes his grip, but you do not, instead pressing his hand more firmly, and glance up at him. “I do not know what all the fuss was about. You’re a wonderful dancer. I forgot where I was, for a moment.”

He does not protest, but instead mutters thanks and allows you to remain, holding his hand and standing close enough to feel his warmth. He is gazing out at the others, who seem to have lost interest in ribbing the older man, and have returned to their merrymaking. “It is so good to see them smiling. It… all of this has been very hard on them.” His voice is casual, but when he cuts his eyes down to look at you, you see what seems to be a flicker of pain dart across the orange surface, before he tries a slightly wobbly smile and looks away. “I should go. There are still things I… you should stay and enjoy yourself. You deserve it after all you’ve done for us.”

You squeeze his hand tightly, sidling a bit closer and keeping your voice low. “And what of yourself, Zevlor? You’ve been through just as much. Do you not deserve a little comfort as well?” You think you already know his opinion on that, but you don’t give him a chance to start depreciating himself again. “I myself… we’ve all had a difficult time with things of late. But shared burdens are lighter. Will you not stay with me, for a little while?”

“It’s my responsibility…” he begins, but then sighs. He nods, but then his expression becomes thoughtful. He’s worrying something over in his mind, you think, and you wait, silent, giving him time to organize his thoughts. When he finally speaks, his words come in a quiet, breathy rush. “I do not… they do not need a dusty old soldier glowering at them tonight. But if you are still interested in my company, I will return to my office. You may join me there if you wish. I have a map to finalize with Tilses, but then I will send her to join the party. She… sleeps with the others. I should be alone within the hour. Then we can… talk.” He glances back at you, seeming surprised by his own boldness, and you nod in agreement as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses briefly before releasing you and moving off into the shadows. You feel your cheeks burn with a flush, because you know he doesn’t really want to talk. Zevlor, Hellrider, former Commander of the cavalry forces of Elturel, has just invited you to his bed.

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

(asking in separate bc I think it might be easier for you! And if you wish to not do this one I 100% understand!)

How about steak dinner and energy drinks while I'm at it?👀

Hello Mah! ☆

Thank you so much for your order! ♡ I appreciate you placing your orders one at a time (as I asked in the rules!) ♡ I hope you enjoy! ♡

⋆ 𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓪 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓻: 𝓢𝓹𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓢𝓱𝓸𝔀𝓸𝓯𝓯 ⋆

One steak dinner and an energy drink, coming right up! ♡

⋆ Seeing Leona in his element was always a sight to behold, watching him as he zoomed by on his broom. Though he had his duties, playing Spelldrive was something he refused to give up, making a career for himself after graduating from Night Raven. As his team moved through the ranks with each game they won, you watched with baited breath, sitting in the stands. You supported him however you could, knowing how important the his career was to him. You would visit him during practice when you could, always making sure to attend each game. You liked to tease him before each one, knowing how confident he was.

⋆ "There's a game coming up" Leona would tell you, causing you to direct your attention towards him. He would explain the day and time, handing you the ticket he got for you. He always made sure you got one of the best seats, wanting you to have a good view of him and his team.

"Oh, really? Who are you playing against this time?"

As he would tell you about the team they were up against you couldn't help but smile, a fond look in your eye as you told him affectionately, "Make sure you don't lose"

⋆ He snorts at your words, you both knowing he wouldn't. His face then breaks into a smirk, looking in your eyes as he moved some hair out of your face, one of his eyebrows raised in question.

"Oh? And what do I get if I win?"

He moved closer towards you, boxing you in. His eyes glanced down at your lips briefly, already knowing the prize he wanted. You couldn't help as your eyes moved to his lips as well, thinking the same thing. He would have to win the game first though, you teased, Leona looking smug before capturing your lips in a kiss anyway.

⋆ Back in the present you cheered as he scored another goal, earning his team three points as he got the disk dead center in the middle ring. Whenever he would score a point he would always look towards the crowd, meeting your eyes. He would smirk, knowing you were watching him play and wanting to show off. He wanted your eyes to only be on him and his victory.

⋆ You couldn't help but stare at him, not just because of his skill on the field, but due to how good he looked, his uniform fitting him nicely. With his hair up in a ponytail and those glasses he wore, your heart raced at how handsome he was, Leona seeming to know the effect his uniform had on you. He had a smirk on his face as he approached you after the game, his team dominating the other team and winning with almost double the points.

⋆ He put his uniform jacket on your shoulders as he looked at you expectantly, clearly wanting his prize. He looked so smug, so self-assured. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off his face, pulling him down to press his lips against yours. You continued to kiss him as he chuckled to himself, pleased by his reward. His tail swung leisurely behind him as he wrapped his arms around you, breaking the kiss to bite at your neck while you caught your breath. Victory had never tasted so sweet ♡

I hope you enjoyed your meal, and thank you for visiting the Cathie Cafe! ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[nyrasproblm]

Affectionately

Stilgar x fem!reader (wife)

Summary: you and Stilgar spend time in your yali.

Word Count: 0,6K

Warning: +18 minors do not interact! pure obscenity, smut, sex p in v, unprotected sex, breeding.

note: this is my first time writing smut, so please be gentle! English is not my mother tongue!

Letting out a soft moan, you wrapped your arms around Stilgar's shoulders, feeling the slow movements of your husband thrusting his hips against yours. Stilgar had his face buried in your neck, you felt his warm breath on your sensitive skin.

The warm environment of your yali provided even more comfort, making you want to spend the entire day like that, with your sweaty body pressed against your husband's, your legs loosely wrapped around his hips. Stilgar had his large body on top of yours, but he wasn't putting all his weight on you, he was resting on his elbows, tightly gripping the cushions below you.

"Harder, please." you asked softly, taking one of your arms off his shoulders and using it to pull his face up to look at you. The sight made you let out an involuntary moan: Stilgar seemed completely relaxed, Ibad's eyes, like yours, were open and you could see how relaxed he was, his slightly open mouth confirmed this. You leaned up and pulled him into a kiss, slow as his movements against your hips.

Breaking the kiss, Stilgar rubbed his aquiline nose across your cheeks, kissed them and then directed his lips to your forehead. He didn't increase the pace of his thrusts, but he began to thrust harder, making you moan and frown at the waves of pleasure.

"Is everything okay? I'm not hurting you, my love?" he asked in a whisper, his deep voice increasing your desire for him even more.

"You always ask that, and I always say I'm fine." you moan in response, pushing your hips against his.

Stilgar lets out a laugh through his nose but becomes serious again when he takes one of his calloused hands out from under you and places it on one of your breasts, squeezing it lightly. He puts more of his weight on top of you so he can take one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Don't do that!" you moaned as you arched your back, he knew your nipples were sensitive and you didn't want to make noise. His beard tickled and you rolled your eyes slightly, placing one of your hands on his head, messing up even more his short hair.

Stilgar took your left nipple out of his mouth with a wet pop and paid attention to the other breast. The slow thrusts hadn't stopped, he continued moving in calm, unhurried movements. He took your breast out of his mouth and got off of you, making you let out a disgruntled sigh. He got down on his knees and held your legs apart, lifted one of them and kissed your calf.

His movements intensified, his hips now making a loud noise as they thrust against yours, making your breasts jiggle in the air. You moaned louder and reached out to intertwine your fingers with his. Feeling your peak approaching you squeezed his hand tightly, closing your eyes. Stilgar started grunting louder and with a few more thrusts you had your release and felt Stilgar's hot liquid filling you.

He fell next to you and pulled you on top of him, kissing your entire face countless times. Their labored breathing was the only thing heard in the yali now. After a few minutes you lifted your face and peppered soft kisses across your husband's age-marked face, stopping the kisses on his large nose, you loved his nose.

"I thank the creator every day for having united me with you for life." you whispered and felt the hand with a rough palm caress your back.

"Really?" he asked. "Am I a good husband?"

"You know." you giggled. “A good man, a good Naib and a wonderful husband.”

"I think I was rewarded for my actions, a bad man would never have something precious like you.”

You laughed and kissed him again, your bodies still intertwined.

[wttgwnc]

Larissa X Fem Reader

A/N: Hi! First of all I'd like to say that this one-shot was inspired by one of the one-shots by @cakexblankett thank you to her for letting me draw inspiration from her <3 I'm sorry if this is badly written but it's the first time I've written this so please don't judge! :) I hope you like it anyways. (Sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my first language)

Warnings: !! everyone is over 18 !! NSFW

You're a student at Nevermore Academy; You love social networks but you don't like your classmates to know about your accounts, so you hide behind a username. For some weeks now, you've been chatting to a woman named ‘redcherry’ on Instagram. At first your conversations were cute, but as the days go by they become dirty and sexual. You know almost nothing about this woman, just as she knows almost nothing about you. You've already seen parts of her body when exchanging photos, but you've never exchanged photos of each other's faces. This woman is really dominant, she demands that you call her ‘mommy’ and she decides what you do in every photo you send her. You scroll through your phone when ‘redcherry’ sends you a message. It's already quite late and it's often in the evening that you chat to her.

redcherry: Mommy is so bored… i wish you were here.

You: I'd love to be with you too, mommy.

redcherry: Send your beautiful body to mommy.

You don't think twice and you send her a photo of your naked body.

redcherry: You're so beautiful and sexy, my sweet girl.

You: Thank you, mommy.

redcherry: I really want you to be with me. Come and join mommy, my darling.

After this message, the woman will send you her address. You hesitate but you decide to go anyway, so you get up and get dressed in a beautiful black dress and you leave Nevermore, taking care not to be noticed. Arrive at the door, you knock on it a little so that she can hear you and you wait for her to come and open it for you. The door opens and you fall in front of your principal. As you look at her face, you realise that she wasn't expecting to see one of her pupils at the door.

Larissa: Miss Y/N..

Y/N: Principal Weems..

You both look at each other, you're quite surprised at all the women who live in Jericho, it had to be your principal in front of you. For you it's not a problem because you've always found her very beautiful and hot.

Y/N: I- I'm going to leave

Larissa: No wait ! uh … stay, it could be our secret.

You think about it and finally accept, you couldn't refuse a night with your principal. You enter your director's house, she doesn't wait and walks towards you, hesitating a little but then placing her lips on yours. At first you are surprised, but then you remember all your messages and photos, so you let yourself go. Her hands roam over your body a little and when you try to touch hers, the blonde woman grabs your hands, slams you against the wall like a poster and locks your hands above your head. A soft moan escapes your mouth as Larissa goes for your neck, putting her hands on it. A slight moan escapes from your mouth while Larissa attacks your neck, she leaves some mark of lipstick, she stops for a moment and she looks at you

Larissa: if I do something that you don’t want or when I go too far just say "red" and I stop everything immediately

You nod, she smiles softly as her hands find the closure of your dress, she lowers it slowly and she drops your dress at your feet. Then she places her hands under your thighs and she carries you to her room. She puts you on her bed before moving away and approaching her coat of arms. She takes out a black box and she opens it, you can’t see what’s inside but you trust her. She comes back to you with leather handcuffs in her hands, she looks at you as if to get your approval and you just nod. She smiles before taking your hands and tying them to the litau over your head.

Larissa: Were you a good girl for mommy ?

Y/N: y-yes mommy..

Larissa smiles with satisfaction at seeing you submit as you do through a writing for several weeks. She looks at you before placing herself between your thighs, she attacks everything from barking your upper body, she lowers her head towards your nipples, with her tongue she attacks your left bud, she sucks and bites it. With her hand she attacks your right bud, she turns it a little between her fingers and gently pinches, moans escape from your lips. A smile is drawn on her face when she feels your pink buds harden. The woman gets up again and she returns to the black box, this time she takes out a tissue, she returns to you and she sits by your side.

Larissa: Let’s see how to develop it all other senses.

The blonde approaches the tissue of your face and she attaches it to the back of your head to cover your eyes, a smile is formed on your lips. Larissa gets up and you hear her take off her dress in order to wear only her underwear while you are there on the bed, hands tie over your head and your eyes blindfolded. She comes back to see and she places herself between your legs, she begins to deposit kisses inside your thighs. Your underwear quickly joins the other clothes on the floor, the blonde plunges her head between your thighs, her tongue drags between your folds, something that makes you moan. Larissa plays with your clitoris before bringing her tongue into you, you are surprised by this and your mouth forms an "o" before a moan comes out of your lips. The woman explores your heart with her tongue as you turn into a mess of moans. The woman's thumb finds your clitoris and your moans become more acute.

Larissa: cum for me, baby

This sentence makes you go overboard and you cum directly into Larissa's mouth. The woman goes up to you and kisses you, your taste makes you moan. Then your Principal removes the blindfold from your eyes and she detaches you. You are lying in Larissa's bed, your chest goes up and down while you try to respond to a stable breathing. Larissa leaves the room and she comes back a few seconds later with a towel filled with water, the woman gently cleans you before leaving to put the towel back in the bathroom. When Larissa comes back, she sees you half asleep, she puts herself next to you before putting the blanket on your two bodies, the blonde kisses your forehead before falling asleep in turn.

Part 2 ???

[muiitoloko]

Hi! I just saw your Eli fics and it was pretty awesome! Can I ask for a fic about Eli having a daughter that he is really close with? She's Eli's favorite child cuz she likes science as much as him. Bcoz of this, her brother kinda hates her and treats her like shit. Like angsty fluffy goodness, please and thanks you

Title: The villain

Summary: The villain has been eliminated.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson & Daughter! Reader & Barkley

Warnings: Angst, Envy, jealousy, injury, blood, and implied death.

Author's Notes: Well, well, well, thanks for throwing this one my way! But here's the kicker: Turns out, when angst crashes the party, my cute-writing skills take a nosedive straight into the abyss. Who knew, right? 🙈 So, apologies in advance if this isn't the sugar-coated fluff you were expecting!

As Eli's favorite daughter, the bond you shared with him was something you cherished deeply. You had always admired your father's brilliance and had eagerly soaked up every bit of knowledge he imparted in his chemistry lab. Together, you delved into the mysteries of science, exploring the wonders of the world with wide-eyed curiosity.

But alongside the joy of your shared interests with Eli, there lingered a shadow of sadness caused by Barkley's resentment. As his twin sister, you had always hoped for a close relationship with him, but Barkley's jealousy seemed to drive a wedge between you, creating a barrier that felt impossible to breach.

Despite your best efforts to include Barkley in your scientific pursuits, he remained distant and aloof, his envy poisoning the once-close bond you shared as siblings. It hurt you deeply, knowing that your twin brother harbored such negative feelings towards you, especially when all you wanted was to share your love for science and learning with him.

That day, as Eli sat at the table, correcting exams with you nestled in his lap, Barkley watched from a distance, feeling a pang of jealousy gnawing at him. While he flipped through his Superman comic alone, you and your father shared a moment of laughter, reveling in the humorous mistakes made by his students.

"Dad, did you see this one?" you chuckled, pointing to a particularly amusing answer on one of the exams.

Eli's deep voice resonated with amusement as he leaned in closer to examine the paper. "Ah, yes, that's a classic," he replied, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Barkley couldn't help but feel a sense of longing as he watched the two of you share this intimate moment. He wished he could be a part of it, to bask in his father's attention like you did. But no matter how hard he tried, it seemed like he was always on the outside looking in.

In a desperate attempt to gain his father's attention, Barkley approached the table, his Superman comic in hand. "Hey, Dad, check this out," he said eagerly, pointing to a dramatic fight scene where the hero was defeating the villains.

But Eli merely nodded absently, his attention already drifting back to the exams. He absentmindedly ruffled Barkley's hair before returning his focus to the papers spread out before him.

Disheartened, Barkley realized that once again, he had failed to capture his father's interest. As he watched you and Eli share another moment of camaraderie, a seed of resentment began to take root in his heart.

"Why do you always get to sit with Dad?" Barkley blurted out, unable to contain his frustration any longer.

You glanced over at Barkley, your brow furrowing in concern. "Barkley, do you want to come join us? We can correct exams together," you offered, extending an olive branch in the hopes of bridging the growing divide between you.

But Barkley merely shook his head, his gaze fixed on the floor as he retreated back to his corner with his comic in hand. "No, thanks," he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness. "I'm fine here."

Feeling a pang of guilt, you couldn't help but wonder if you were the villain in Barkley's eyes, always stealing the spotlight and attention for yourself. But deep down, you knew that all you wanted was to share your love for science and learning with your brother, to bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing day.

As Eli praised you for your sharp understanding of chemistry problems, Barkley's jealousy only grew, his resentment simmering beneath the surface. Despite your attempts to include him, he remained distant, his twin bond with you fractured by his envy and insecurity.

And as the evening wore on, you couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness wash over you, knowing that despite your best efforts, Barkley seemed determined to keep his distance. But deep down, you held onto hope that one day, you would be able to break through the barriers that separated you and rebuild the bond that had once been so strong.

Days later, your eighth birthday had finally arrived—a day that held special significance for both of you, and you had hoped to make it memorable in a positive way. When your parents, Eli and Sarah, suggested going to a comic convention instead of having a birthday party, you felt a pang of disappointment. It wasn't what you wanted, but Barkley's eyes had lit up with excitement at the prospect, and you couldn't bear to disappoint him.

So, you put on a brave face and smiled, telling your parents that you wanted to go to the comic convention too. Inside, your heart ached at the thought of spending the day surrounded by comic book characters and cosplayers, but for Barkley's sake, you were willing to endure it.

As you walked through the convention center, you watched as Barkley eagerly led your father towards one of the attractions, his excitement palpable. You held onto your mother's hand, Sarah, who had encouraged you to go with Eli and Barkley, knowing how much it meant to them.

You picked up your pace, running towards them, eager to join in on the fun. Barkley was animatedly talking about his favorite superhero, his words filled with enthusiasm as he painted a vivid picture of the character's adventures.

But as you approached, Barkley's expression changed, his scowl directed at you as he pushed you away. Your heart sank at his rejection, the familiar sting of hurt washing over you once again.

"This is our moment, Dad," Barkley protested, his tone defensive as he turned to face Eli. "Just you and me."

Eli's brow furrowed in confusion, his gaze shifting between you and Barkley. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, you intervened.

"It's okay," you said with a forced smile, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. "I prefer to spend time with Mom anyway. Dad's always boring."

Eli's indignant look didn't escape your notice, but you simply shrugged it off, flashing him a mischievous grin before turning on your heel and running towards where your mother was manning a comic booth.

"Hey there, sweetie," Sarah greeted you with a warm smile, pulling you into a tight hug. "Having fun?"

You nodded, burying your face in her shoulder to hide the tears threatening to spill. Sarah sensed your distress and pulled back, concern etched on her face.

"What's wrong, darling?" she asked, her voice soft and comforting.

You hesitated for a moment before blurting out, "Barkley doesn't want me around. It's like he hates me."

Sarah's expression softened, her heart breaking at the pain in your voice. She knelt down to your level, taking your hands in hers.

"Sweetheart, Barkley doesn't hate you," she reassured you, her voice gentle yet firm. "He's just going through a rough patch right now. But deep down, he loves you, I'm sure of it."

You sniffled, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. Sarah pulled you into another hug, holding you close as you let out a shaky breath.

"I know it's hard, darling," she whispered, her voice filled with empathy. "But we'll get through this together, okay? You, me, and Barkley."

Feeling a sense of comfort wash over you, you nodded against Sarah's shoulder, grateful for her unwavering support. As you stood there in her embrace, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would always have your mother by your side, guiding you through the ups and downs of life.

Sarah then stood up, holding your hand, and suggested that you and she have some girls-only fun and explore the comic book convention together. You nodded eagerly, grateful for the opportunity to spend some quality time with your mother. As you walked hand-in-hand, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that Sarah was there to support you.

Along the way, you looked over your shoulder to see Eli and Barkley going the opposite way, but you ignored their departure, choosing instead to focus on the adventure ahead with your mother. The convention center was bustling with activity, the air filled with excitement and anticipation as fans of all ages indulged in their love for comics and pop culture.

Eventually, the two of you stumbled upon a Spider-Man station, where fans could pose for photos with their favorite web-slinging hero. You couldn't contain your excitement as you gazed at the larger-than-life Spider-Man statue, marveling at the intricate details of his costume.

But it was the display of Spider-Man's adversaries that caught your eye, particularly the figure of Doctor Octavius. You had always been fascinated by science, and the idea of a brilliant scientist-turned-supervillain intrigued you.

"Mom, look!" you exclaimed, pointing excitedly at the Doctor Octavius display. "It's Doctor Octopus! Did you know there are scientists in the world of comics?"

Sarah chuckled at your enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I did, sweetheart," she replied, her voice filled with affection. "And it looks like you've found your new favorite character."

You nodded and stood in front of the Doctor Octopus display, your eyes sparkling with excitement at the sight of the action figures lined up neatly on the shelf. You reached out to grab one of the Doctor Octavius dolls, its tentacles and menacing expression captivating your imagination.

"Mom, can we get this one?" you pleaded, holding up the action figure for Sarah to see.

Sarah's eyebrows shot up in surprise at your sudden request, but she smiled indulgently at your enthusiasm. "Sweetheart, are you sure you want that one?" she asked gently, her voice filled with curiosity. "Don't you want to look at some of the other toys first?"

But you shook your head adamantly, your heart set on the Doctor Octopus action figure. "No, Mom, I want this one," you insisted, clutching the doll to your chest as if your life depended on it.

Sarah sighed softly, knowing that arguing with you would be futile once you had made up your mind. With a resigned smile, she reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet, handing over the money for the toy.

"Alright, sweetheart, if that's what you want," she conceded, her voice tinged with amusement. "But promise me you'll take good care of him, okay?"

You nodded eagerly, your eyes shining with excitement as you hugged the Doctor Octavius action figure close to your chest. "I promise, Mom," you replied, a wide grin spreading across your face. "Thank you!"

With your newfound treasure in hand, you eagerly followed Sarah as she led you through the convention center, your mind buzzing with excitement at the prospect of playing with your new toy. As you walked, you couldn't help but steal glances at the Doctor Octopus action figure, marveling at its intricate details and lifelike features.

You looked at your mother, wondering if she could take the doll out of the box now. Sarah nodded, understanding the excitement bubbling within you. With a swift motion, you practically ripped the packaging open, eager to hold your new treasure in your hands.

Just as you freed Doctor Octopus from his plastic prison, Eli and Barkley came up to the two of you, their presence momentarily dampening your excitement. But you quickly brushed aside any lingering discomfort, eager to show off your new toy to your family.

You waved your hand, beckoning Barkley closer as you proudly displayed the Doctor Octavius action figure. "Look, Barkley, Mommy bought me this!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with excitement.

But Barkley's reaction wasn't what you had expected. Instead of sharing in your enthusiasm, he looked at Doctor Octopus in your hand with disdain, his lips curling into a sneer.

"Doctor Octavius? Seriously?" Barkley taunted, his tone dripping with mockery. "Why would you choose a villain? You should've picked a hero instead."

You felt a pang of disappointment at Barkley's words, his rejection stinging more than you cared to admit. But you refused to let his negativity dampen your spirits, determined to stand up for yourself and your newfound favorite character.

"Doctor Octavius isn't just a villain," you protested, your voice defiant. "He's a scientist! And now he's my favorite scientist."

Eli, hearing this, turned to you with a mixture of surprise and amusement. "I thought I was your favorite scientist," he complained, his tone playful yet slightly wounded.

You couldn't help but giggle at your father's reaction, finding his jealousy both amusing and endearing. "Sorry, Dad," you replied with a mischievous grin. "But Doctor Octavius is cooler."

Eli raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Cooler than me?" he echoed, his voice filled with mock indignation.

You nodded enthusiastically, your determination unwavering. "Yup! He has metal arms and everything," you declared proudly.

Eli shook his head in mock disapproval, but a hint of amusement danced in his eyes. "I can't compete with that," he admitted with a chuckle.

As you laughed with your father, reveling in the playful banter between you, Barkley's jealousy became apparent once again. Seeing the bond between you and Eli only served to fuel Barkley's resentment, and he clung to his father's leg, his expression pleading.

"Dad, can I have an action figure too?" Barkley begged, his voice tinged with desperation as he looked up at Eli with hopeful eyes.

Eli's brow furrowed in annoyance at Barkley's interruption, but before he could respond, Barkley continued to plead, his voice growing louder with each word.

"Please, Dad, I want one too!" Barkley insisted, his grip on Eli's leg tightening as he begged for his father's attention.

Eli sighed in exasperation at Barkley's persistent pleas, his patience wearing thin as he looked towards Sarah for assistance. "How much was the doll of her?" he asked, his tone tinged with annoyance.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at Eli's question, her expression one of disbelief. "Thirty dollars," she replied matter-of-factly, knowing full well that Eli would balk at the price.

Eli almost choked at Sarah's response, his eyes widening in shock at the exorbitant price. Thirty dollars was far too expensive by his standards, and he wasted no time in taking action.

Grabbing the doll from your hands, Eli turned to Sarah with a determined expression. "Go return it and get the money back," he instructed firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

But you weren't about to let your newfound treasure slip through your fingers so easily. Jumping up and down, you reached out to grab the doll back, your protests growing louder with each passing moment.

"No, Daddy, I want to keep it!" you insisted, your voice filled with determination as you clung to the doll with all your might.

Sarah rolled her eyes at Eli's stubbornness, shaking her head in disbelief at his unwillingness to indulge his children. Taking the doll from her husband's hands, she gave it back to you with a gentle smile.

You hugged the Doctor Octopus doll tightly to your chest, feeling a sense of victory as Sarah stood by your side, a defiant expression on her face. She turned to Eli, her voice laced with frustration as she scolded him for his dismissive attitude towards your happiness.

"Eli, it's the children's birthday," Sarah argued, her tone firm yet tinged with exasperation. "They deserve a toy, especially one that brings them joy."

Eli sighed in annoyance at Sarah's insistence, his brows furrowing in frustration. "I just didn't think it was that expensive," he replied dismissively, his tone leaving no room for further discussion.

But before Sarah could respond, Barkley interrupted them, his face red with frustration as he begged and threw a tantrum to get a toy of his own. "I want Spider-Man!" he demanded, his voice reaching a crescendo as he stomped his feet in frustration.

Eli's patience wore thin at Barkley's outburst, and he shook his head in disbelief at his son's behavior. "No, Barkley, we're not buying any more toys," he declared firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Barkley's face fell at his father's denial, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he crossed his arms irritably. He watched with envy as you walked away, playing with your Doctor Octopus doll, oblivious to everything around you.

Seeing Barkley's disappointment, Sarah couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her son. Turning to Eli, she began to argue with him, her voice growing louder with each passing moment.

"Eli, this isn't fair," Sarah protested, her tone tinged with frustration. "Barkley deserves a toy too, especially on his birthday."

But Eli remained unmoved, his stubbornness unwavering as he refused to budge on his decision. "We can buy him a McDonald's Happy Meal instead," he suggested, his tone dismissive as he waved off Sarah's concerns. "That way, they can both have fun."

Sarah shook her head in disbelief at her husband's suggestion, unable to comprehend his lack of empathy towards Barkley's feelings. "You can't be serious," she replied incredulously, her voice tinged with frustration. "This isn't about food, Eli. It's about making our children happy."

But Eli was already turning away, his attention focused on something else as he walked towards the food court.

Meanwhile, Sarah stood by, torn between her frustration with Eli and her desire to comfort Barkley. With a heavy heart, she knelt down beside her son, wrapping him in a tight hug as she tried to soothe his wounded pride.

"It's okay, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice filled with sympathy. "We'll find a way to make it up to you, I promise."

Barkley's tears continued to fall, his disappointment palpable as he watched you play with your new toy. Sarah felt a pang of sympathy for her son's disappointment. She knew how much he had been looking forward to receiving a toy of his own, and seeing him so dejected broke her heart. With a heavy sigh, she decided to make things right, at least for Barkley.

"Sweetheart, I'm going to go buy you that Spider-Man doll, okay?" Sarah said gently, her voice filled with determination. "But I need you to wait here and stay close to your sister. Can you do that for me?"

Barkley nodded silently, his eyes still clouded with sadness as he watched you play with your Doctor Octopus doll. Sarah gave him one last reassuring squeeze before getting up and heading towards the toy booth, determined to find the perfect toy for her son.

As Sarah navigated through the crowded convention center, her heart weighed heavy with guilt. She knew she couldn't undo the hurt Barkley was feeling, but she hoped that getting him the Spider-Man doll would at least bring a smile to his face.

Finally reaching the toy booth, Sarah scanned the shelves for the Spider-Man action figure, her eyes darting from one end to the other in search of the perfect toy. When she finally spotted it, her heart skipped a beat with relief, and she quickly made her way over to the display.

Meanwhile, Barkley clenched his fists angrily as he watched you, sitting on the floor and playing with your new toy. His resentment towards you simmered beneath the surface, fueled by the jealousy that had poisoned his relationship with you for so long. As Barkley's gaze shifted to the huge Spider-Man statue behind where you were sitting, a wicked idea began to form in his mind.

"You're the problem," Barkley thought bitterly, his anger boiling over as he glared at you. "The family would be perfect if you didn't exist. Dad would like me more if you weren't there to get in the way."

With a determined expression, Barkley stood up, his footsteps silent as he crept behind the Spider-Man statue. You were completely oblivious to his actions, lost in the world of your imagination as you played with your Doctor Octopus doll.

As Barkley reached the statue, he took a deep breath, his hands trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. With all his strength, he pushed against the statue, his muscles straining as he exerted every ounce of his pent-up frustration.

The Spider-Man statue wobbled precariously, its massive frame swaying dangerously as people nearby screamed and scrambled to move out of the way. You looked up, confusion etched on your face as you tried to make sense of the chaos unfolding around you.

In that moment, you caught a glimpse of movement behind you, and before you could react, the statue came crashing down with a deafening roar. The last thing you felt was a searing pain, a sharp cry of your name echoing through the air as Eli rushed out of the food court, his heart stopping at the sight of the fallen statue and his injured daughter.

People screamed in panic as Eli ran, dropping the snack in your hand and rushing towards you. His heart pounded with fear as he saw the fallen Spider-Man statue pinning you down, a pool of blood forming beneath you.

Frantically, Eli tried to lift the heavy statue off of you, but it was too heavy for him to move alone. Desperately, he looked around for help, his hands shaking as he pleaded with bystanders to lend a hand.

Luckily, some other people rushed over to assist, and together, they managed to lift the statue just enough for Eli to pull you out from underneath. With tears streaming down his face, he cradled you in his arms, his heart breaking at the sight of your injuries.

"Someone call an ambulance!" Eli cried out, his voice hoarse with panic. "Please, we need help!"

As Eli held you close, he scanned the crowd frantically, searching for Sarah and Barkley. His heart sank when he saw Sarah's tear-streaked face among the onlookers, her hands covering her mouth in shock.

"Sarah!" Eli called out, his voice trembling with fear. "Where's Barkley? Is he okay?"

Sarah's eyes widened in horror as she realized that Barkley was missing. Panic surged through her veins as she looked around frantically, her heart pounding in her chest.

"I don't know, Eli," she replied, her voice trembling with fear. "I can't find him anywhere!"

As Sarah desperately searched for Barkley, Eli clung to you, his body shaking with sobs as he begged for help. He felt numb with shock, his mind reeling at the sight of his injured daughter lying in his arms.

Barkley, meanwhile, had picked up the Doctor Octopus doll from the floor, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched the chaos unfold. In his mind, the villain had been defeated, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the thought.

He wiped the blood off the doll, pleased with himself. As his mother caught up with him, she hugged him and cried worriedly, but Barkley paid her no mind. He looked at the doll in his hand, and Sarah didn't notice it, thinking her son was in shock.

As Sarah enveloped Barkley in a tight hug, tears streaming down her face, she whispered words of comfort, her voice trembling with fear and relief. "Oh, Barkley, thank goodness you're okay," she murmured, her heart breaking at the thought of what could have happened. "Your sister will be fine, okay? She will be fine."

But Barkley remained distant, his mind consumed by his newfound victory. Ignoring his mother's attempts to comfort him, he stared down at the Doctor Octopus doll in his hand, a sense of satisfaction washing over him as he watched the chaos unfold around him.

Meanwhile, Eli's cries echoed through the convention center as he cradled you close to his chest, his heart breaking at the sight of his injured daughter. Tears streamed down his face as he begged you to come back to him, his voice trembling with fear and desperation.

"Please, sweetheart, wake up," Eli pleaded, his hands shaking as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Daddy needs you. Please, come back to me."

But there was no response, only the sound of sirens wailing in the distance as the ambulance approached. Eli clung to you, his body racked with sobs as he prayed for a miracle, his mind consumed by thoughts of what could have been.

As the paramedics rushed over to attend to you, Eli reluctantly released his grip, allowing them to take you away on a stretcher. His heart felt heavy with dread as he watched them disappear into the ambulance, his mind reeling at the thought of his precious daughter lying injured and alone.

But even in the midst of his grief, Eli couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him from within. He knew that he had failed you as a father, his selfishness and arrogance blinding him to the dangers that surrounded you.

As the ambulance drove away, Eli sank to his knees, his body wracked with sobs as he prayed for your safety. "I'm so sorry, my baby girl," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I should have protected you. Please, forgive me."

But forgiveness felt like a distant dream, a glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatened to consume him. With tears streaming down his face, Eli buried his head in his hands, his heart heavy with regret as he awaited news of your fate.

[silvers-starrway]

GRIPPING THEM THEY MAKE ME INSANE!!!!!

[thepoisonroom]

'I flirted with the idea that instead of being trans that I was just a cross-dresser (a quirk, I thought, that could be quietly folded into an otherwise average life) and that my dysphoria was sexual in nature, and sexual only. And if my feelings were only sexual, then, I wondered, perhaps I wasn’t actually trans.

I had read about a book called The Man Who Would Be Queen, by a Northwestern University professor who believed that transwomen who were attracted to women were really confused fetishists, they wanted to be women to satisfy an autogynephilia. And though I first read about this book in the context of its debunkment and disparagement, I thought about the electricity of slipping on those tights, zipping up those boots, and a stream of guilt followed. Maybe this professor was right, and maybe I was only a fetishist. Not trans, just a misguided boy.

About a year later, on the Internet, I come across a transwoman who added a unique message to the crowd refuting this professor. Oh, I wish I remember who this woman was, and I wish even more that I could do better than paraphrase her, but I remember her saying something like this: “Well, of course I feel sexy putting on women’s clothing and having a woman’s body. If you feel comfortable in your body for the first time, won’t that probably mean it’ll be the first time you feel comfortable, too, with delighting in your body as a sexual thing?”'

-Casey Plett, Consciousness

[supanuts]

question for writers: how do you go about describing people's smell? or even imagining it? because i can tell you my older dog smells like night-blooming jessamine in the middle of october in that unexpected and almost cloying way. i can tell you my smallest dog smells like orange tree leaves, left at the bottom of a crate in the sun, at the end of a market day in that green, vaguely citric, and somewhat rich/deep way. i can tell you my youngest dog smells, somehow, like the rocks from my town's riverbed in that hot-but-fresh smell the constant sun, wind, and almost nonexistent water gives them.

and i can tell you all of them smell inexplicably like earth, but it's freshly irrigated almond tree fields / the lingering smell under your nails after you dig in the soil until you reach the damp / a dry dirt road.

but i can tell you that because that is literally how they smell to me, and while i know how my mother smells and i remember my grandma's smell, the most i could tell you is maybe that my mother favours citric scents and my grandma loved floral perfume.