#(trying to shift back to thinking about my girl)

[nats--sw]

English Love Affair | Emily Fox

Emily Fox x Williamson!reader Where you and Emily meet at a bar before she gets close to Leah is the title inspired by the song with the same name? definitely! warnings: suggestive my masterlist

“Emily, what about you?” Leah asked with a curious smile as the waitress placed another bottle of wine on the table. The vibe at the restaurant was buzzing now,the girls all chatting and laughing after the international break. But Emily had been quiet, keeping to herself and focused on finishing her meal, still visibly worn out from going nonstop between club and national team matches.

“Huh? What were we talking about again?” Emily asked, setting her fork down on her empty plate. She gave them a small, apologetic smile, realizing she’d zoned out.

“Oh, don’t play dumb” Beth teased, giving her a nudge and laughing. “It’s just a bit suspicious that you never talk about… you know.”

“Talk about what?” Emily asked, frowning slightly as she looked around the table at the expectant faces, all clearly in on whatever they meant.

“Well, you’ve been here for what, a year now? And not a single mention of someone special” Lia added, giving her a wink.

“Yeah, like a partner, a guy... or a girl” Alessia added, covering her mouth as she fought back a mischievous grin.

“Ohhh” Emily said, her gaze dropping to the center of the table, feeling her cheeks turn red. She cleared her throat, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, but before she could say anything, a memory popped into her head.

“You’re not from here, are you?” a soft voice asked close to her ear.

Emily looked up, meeting the intense eyes and sly smile of a girl who had come closer than she expected in the noisy bar. She was so close that Emily could catch the scent of her perfume over the haze of smoke and alcohol.

“No, just here for work,” Emily said, taking a swig of her beer to mask the nerves that had suddenly stirred in her.

“And you’re here alone?”

Emily gestured toward her friends laughing and dancing on the crowded floor. “My friends are over there, dancing.”

“So then, what are we doing here?” you smiled, slipping your hand into hers with a confidence that caught her off guard. Before she could say a word, you were already leading her to the dance floor. In the midst of the crowd, you pulled her closer, and Emily couldn’t help but let herself go a little, feeling a thrill she rarely allowed herself to experience.

“Emily!” Alessia’s voice and a hand waving in front of her face brought her abruptly back to the present.

“Sorry, what?” Emily blinked, quickly trying to compose herself, a nervous smile creeping across her face.

“Ohhh, so there is someone…” Leah leaned forward, an amused expression and a glint of curiosity in her eyes. She’d been trying to get to know Emily better lately, especially now that their partnership on the field was growing.

“Well… it’s not really like that” Emily said, rubbing the back of her neck, clearly flustered. “It was just… something casual.”

The others exchanged surprised looks, clearly not expecting “something casual” from Emily. Noticing her discomfort, Leah stepped in with a gentle smile to ease the tension.

“Nothing wrong with something casual now and then” Leah said, giving Beth a discreet nudge under the table to shake her shocked expression. “Sometimes it’s nice to just... let loose, yeah? Care to share a bit more?”

“Uh, it’s a little awkward, actually...” Emily admitted, looking around nervously. Leah just nodded in understanding, flashing her a reassuring smile as she smoothly shifted the topic. The others followed her lead, sparing Emily from any more teasing, and she gave Leah a grateful little smile.

Ever since that dinner, Emily couldn’t shake the memory from her mind.

“I’m staying at a hotel a few blocks from here” Emily murmured, feeling her heart race as she leaned back against the wall in the darkest corner of the bar. A gorgeous girl stood pressed close to her, making it hard for Emily to think straight.

“Oh…” your eyes widened, sparkling with surprise, and Emily felt a pang of anxiety, a flicker of panic tightened in her stomach at your reaction.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I thought that-”

But your lips silenced her, pulling her into a kiss that clouded her thoughts all over again, as if the world had paused for that moment.

“Honestly, I thought you were straight. I didn’t think this would go further than a kiss” you said softly, with a slight amused smile as your fingers brushed along Emily’s neck.

Emily couldn’t find her voice, words sticking in her throat as you gently took her hand and started leading her toward the exit.

“Which way did you say your hotel was?” you asked, and Emily felt a mix of nerves and excitement, wondering if she was truly about to cross a line she’d never imagined before boarding the plane out of her home.

“Oi, Foxy!” Leah’s voice echoed from behind, pulling Emily back to the present. She blinked, trying to regain her composure as Leah approached. Training had just ended, and the rest of the team was drifting off to shower and head home.

“Yeah? What’s up?” Emily asked, forcing a smile.

“I should be asking you that” Leah replied with a soft laugh, noticing Emily's distracted look. “Are you alright? You seemed… a bit out of it today. Actually, if I’m honest, you’ve been like that all week.”

Emily tried to brush it off. “No, it’s nothing, really” she said, glancing away, but the unease must have been clear. Leah was perceptive, and she didn’t miss the tension in Emily’s expression.

“Hey…” Leah softened her tone, adopting a warm, understanding look. “I’m sorry if what we said the other night made you uncomfortable. You know how it is with us, most of us have been together for years, and sometimes we overstep without meaning to. If the questions were a bit much… I’m really sorry.”

Emily felt a hint of relief, but the thoughts swirling in her mind weren’t going away.

“It’s alright, Leah. Honestly, I know you guys didn’t mean any harm.” She shrugged, attempting a small smile.

Leah wasn’t buying it. Noticing Emily tense up again, she slipped an arm around her shoulders in a friendly gesture, a knowing smile on her face.

“Tell you what… How about a drink? My treat. Just you and me. And if you feel like talking, I’m here, as a mate, no judgment. I promise.”

Emily hesitated, her gaze meeting Leah’s, who waited patiently with that reassuring smile. Part of her wanted to keep it all hidden, but she couldn’t keep bottling up her thoughts without driving herself mad. Plus, it was clearly affecting her focus on the pitch.

She nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Alright… I think I could use a talk.”

Leah smiled back, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Perfect. I’ll let you know where we’re meeting later, and you just say whatever’s on your mind, yeah?”

Emily let out a sigh, feeling a mix of relief and nerves fluttering inside her.

That same night, Emily found herself in a small, cozy bar near Leah’s house, a spot Leah had been going on about for ages, perfect for drinks and conversations thanks to the soft music and warm atmosphere. For nearly half an hour, Leah had been telling her all kinds of stories about her love life, some funny anecdotes mixed with a few rather embarrassing details, all aimed at making Emily feel comfortable enough to share a bit of her own.

And to be honest, it had worked. Emily had arrived feeling nervous, she had never been alone with Leah like this before, and the idea of opening up emotionally intimidated her a bit. But after several laughs and some unexpected stories, her initial nerves melted away, especially with the beer loosening her up after a long tiring day.

“Well, what about you?” Leah asked with a playful smile, giving Emily a light nudge to encourage her.

Emily swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the beer bottle in her hand. “Well… it’s a girl” she admitted, avoiding Leah’s gaze. Leah’s grin widened, and Emily felt a wave of relief wash over her at the warm reception, this was something she had never shared with anyone before.

“Oh wow, now we’re getting somewhere!” Leah teased, leaning in closer. “When did this happen?”

“It was when I came to watch the game against Chelsea at the Emirates… Well, actually, it was the night after the game. I was out with my friends at a bar, and this girl accidentally spilled my beer and stuck around until I got another one.” Emily chuckled at the memory of their awkward first encounter. “It was pretty awkward at first, she didn’t say a word until I got my drink refilled.”

Leah raised her eyebrows, clearly intrigued. “Accidentally, huh? Was she drunk or something?”

Emily shrugged, trying not to smile too much. “I thought so at first but then I figured her confidence was just... natural.”

She let out a sigh, her expression softening. “And then… we went back to my hotel. It was the best experience of my life” she confessed, a smile crossing her face that was equal parts amused and nostalgic.

Leah’s eyebrows shot up, a curious glint in her eye. “And can I know a bit more? Or is there still not enough trust between us?” she teased.

Emily laughed, finishing her beer in one go before replying, “Best sex of my life.” They both burst into laughter, Emily covering her face with her hand at the memory.

“Emily…” you whispered, gently tugging on her hair as your breaths intertwined.

Hearing her name in that moment, with your bodies so close, felt like the world had just shifted.

“She was amazing, Leah, so beautiful… God, her voice…” Emily looked away, feeling her cheeks flush as the memory of that night hit her all over again. “I couldn’t get enough of her. I think we only slept for a couple of hours, but it was…”

“And then?” Leah asked, a mix of amusement and genuine curiosity on her face as she set down another round of beers on the table.

Emily hesitated, biting her lip before continuing.

“Shit” Emily muttered when she heard the knock at her hotel door. Panic washed over her, remembering that her friends had no idea she’d brought someone back to her room, let alone a girl. 

The truth was, she wasn’t ready to have that talk with her friends just yet.

“You have to go” she said quickly, grabbing her phone to send her friends a text about how she’d left early for a morning run. A total lie, but an easy one for them to buy.

She just needed an excuse, something to make sure her friends wouldn’t be hanging around the hallway the moment you left the room.

It wouldn’t have bothered you that much, but here you were, sitting on Emily’s lap, shirtless, still catching your breath.

“What was that?” you asked, trying to look at her.

“It’s complicated” Emily replied, getting up to rummage through her suitcase for some clothes.

You sighed, looking at her with a mix of disappointment and embarrassment. “Tell me I’m not ruining anything serious. You don’t have someone else, do you?”

Emily bit her lip and avoided your gaze. “No, it’s nothing like that. Just… you’d better go.”

With panic rising in her chest, Emily reached for her wallet. “Do you need money for the Uber back-”

“I’m not taking your money” you snapped, your disappointment quickly turning to offense.

Emily glanced down at the cash, realizing how it must’ve looked. “No, I don’t-”

“Stupid Americans…” you muttered under your breath, pulling on the rest of your clothes and ignoring her.

“Ah…” Leah sighed, understanding the situation as she noticed the regret flickering across Emily’s face. “Wow, Emily. You really went for it…”

“I know, but... I was freaked out. I never meant to hurt her, I was just worried about her getting home safely” Emily explained, fiddling with a new beer bottle in her hands.

“So... your friends didn’t know about you and girls?” Leah asked, her tone soft and gentle.

Emily shook her head. “The girl was stunning, but at that moment, it wasn’t worth risking my friendship with my friends. I was in a foreign country and I had to fly back with them. I was afraid everything would go wrong.”

Leah fell silent for a moment, contemplating Emily’s words. “Well, I can understand that, you didn’t want to risk it all for a one night stand.”

Emily shrugged, a soft smile tugging at her lips “Yeah, well… but the story doesn’t end there.” 

Leah’s eyes lit up, an excited glint in them. “Wait, there’s more?”

Emily nodded. “Later that night, I convinced my friends to go back to the bar... and there she was again. It was my last night in London, and I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I was still regretting the whole morning thing.”

Leah shot her an amused look. “Don’t tell me that-”

“I can’t say I regret it” Emily said, biting her lip, and they both laughed.

"I'm heading back to the States in the morning" Emily whispered to you, settling into the seat of your car. She couldn’t help but notice how your skirt slid up as you sat on her lap.

"I really don’t want to hear you right now" you replied.

"I'm really sorry about this morning" she insisted, sounding genuinely apologetic.

“Yeah, I really need you to shut up" you shot back.

"Sorry for-"

“Emily” you said, grabbing her hand and pulling her close. "You can apologize in a different way" you whispered, your lips brushing against hers.

Leah burst out laughing. "Emily Fox! Don't tell me you did that in a car." Emily shot her a look and took a sip of her beer, trying to suppress her laughter.

"Well, at least I got her to forgive me... I think" she said with a smile, feeling lighter now that she had finally shared the story with someone.

“And then what happened?” Leah asked, clearly invested.

Emily sighed, setting her beer down on the table. "Ah... we went to her hotel. It turned out she wasn't from London either. I don’t remember exactly what city she was from and by the time I moved here... I couldn’t track her down.”

Leah looked at her, processing it all. “So... your big tragic forbidden love was really just a hot two night stand with some english girl you never saw again."

Emily nodded, a bit of defeat creeping onto her face. “Yeah... she was just ridiculously hot” she admitted, feeling bolder with the alcohol.

Leah cracked up, clearly loving every second. “Honestly Foxy, I never thought we’d be having this chat, but I’m here for it. And c’mon, rate her. One to ten?”

“A thousand” Emily said, barely hesitating. “Her mouth, her lips... I couldn’t get her voice out of my head. The look on her face when she... Can you fall in love with someone you’ve only slept with a couple of times?”

Leah shrugged, her smile softening. “I don’t know... maybe.”

Emily sighed, shaking her head. "It’s like she ruined sex for me with anyone else. No one else is like her..."

Leah gave her a gentle nudge, laughing. "Well Foxy, if there's someone like that out there, maybe the universe will bring you back together."

"Emily, are you coming with us?" Alessia asked as she hopped off the bus, grinning from ear to ear after being named Player of the Match. Earlier that morning, they had made plans with Leah and Lotte to visit one of Alessia's favorite coffee shops in Manchester, and after their win against City, the idea felt even more appealing. Emily had agreed without a second thought.

Alessia wasn’t kidding about the place, it was indeed spacious and cozy, and the hot chocolate was absolutely divine. 

“I’ve been here before” Leah mentioned casually, but Emily barely heard her. She was glued to her phone, focused on making a post to thank the fans who had traveled to support the team.

"Oh, right" Alessia replied. "I was always running into your-"

Emily took a sip of her chocolate, she wasn’t listening, scrolling through her phone for the perfect pic to post. 

“Does she still live here?” Lotte asked.

"Works nearby" Leah answered.

"You guys just summoned her" Lotte muttered.

Alessia's laugh made Emily glance up, and she heard the scrape of a chair as someone stood. Leah had shifted from her seat to stand next to a girl.

"You already know Less and Lotte, but you don’t know-"

"Emily." 

Before Emily could even process it, her name was out of your mouth. Leah shot you a look, then quickly turned her focus back to her teammate, who was staring at you with wide eyes.

Lotte’s soft laugh broke the awkward silence. “Did you already know Leah’s sister?” she asked, her voice teasing but curious.

But Leah wasn’t smiling. The way her hand instinctively moved to wrap protectively around your waist and how her jaw tightened while glancing at Emily made it clear that she was starting to piece things together.  It wasn’t hard to figure out. Emily had been in London for the derby, the same match where Leah had gotten you those tickets, knowing you’d be in London that week. 

Emily felt a lump in her throat. The air suddenly felt thick with tension, and she tried to keep it cool, but it was hard.

“Fox.” Leah said, her voice low, a dangerous edge to it.

"I... I didn’t know" Emily stammered, flustered and feeling the weight of the moment.

The situation had spiraled into chaos, and Alessia, sensing the tension, exchanged nervous glances between the three of them. "Wait, what’s going on here?" she asked, her smile faltering.

“Nothing.” Emily and Leah said in sync, but it was clear no one was buying it.

To you, this whole thing wasn’t just awkward, it was straight up ridiculous. You’d seen Leah scare away your girlfriends before, ever since you were old enough to kiss girls. She always played that overprotective big sister role like no one was ever gonna be “good enough” for you. But this time? It felt like there was way more going on.

“I slept with Emily” you blurted out, crossing your arms and glaring at Alessia and Lotte, both of whom stared at you with their mouths agape.

Alessia’s reaction was the most dramatic, she looked totally shocked. 

“You fucked Leah’s sister?!” Alessia whispered, eyes wide as she glanced at Emily, her voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of fear. Everyone at the club and the national team knew that Leah’s sister was off limits.

Leah’s expression hardened even more, her eyes dark and fixed on Emily as if she wanted to bore a hole right through her. 

“I didn’t know she was her sister!” Emily exclaimed, her frustration palpable, her hands shaking. “If I had known, I never would have-”

“Oh, yeah? So, if you had known, would you have still kicked me out of your room?” you interrupted, the bitterness slipping into your voice. The whole hotel thing still pissed you off, and it was obvious you weren’t over it.

Emily’s eyes dropped, clearly uncomfortable.  

“Ugh, shut up,” Leah muttered, jaw tight as she realized what you were talking about.  

“Did you tell my sister about the hotel?” you shot back, a little embarrassed but too frustrated to hold back.

Emily hid her face in her hands, wishing she could just disappear. "Please, stop saying the word 'sister'" she mumbled, but no one was listening.  

Lotte, with that curious glint in her eye, leaned forward. "Which hotel?" she asked, clearly loving the drama unfolding. Alessia kept glancing back and forth between you and Emily, clearly eating this up.  

"Did you tell her about the car too?" you shot back, your voice a bit sharper than you meant.  

“You fucked Leah’s sister in a car?!” Alessia whispered again, almost in disbelief.  

“Enough about my sister!” Leah snapped, shooting you a warning glare, her anger barely restrained. “We need to talk, just you and I” she said firmly, reaching for your hand, attempting to lead you towards the door.

“No, Leah” you replied, pulling away, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “I need to talk to Emily.”

“No way” Leah said, shaking her head. “I’m not letting her talk to you after how she acted like an idiot-”

“But you said you understood me!” Emily shot back, standing up.

“Yeah, but that was before I knew that the hot girl who wasn’t worth the risk for a fling was my sister. This changes everything.” Leah retorted, pointing an accusatory finger at Emily.

“That sounds like double standards” Lotte muttered.

"Thank you!" Emily said, feeling a bit relieved.  

You could feel the tension building as both Leah and Emily’s tempers flared. Everyone in the café was starting to stare. You had to calm this down, there was no way you were getting kicked out of your favorite coffee shop because of this mess.

"Can you please… leave us alone" you said, but no one moved.

The silence stretched out, and eventually, everyone’s eyes locked onto Leah. She sighed, shoulders dropping. She knew she wasn’t gonna change your mind. With a nod to Lotte and Alessia, who were already standing up, Leah shot one last cold glance at Emily. 

"Five minutes," she warned before walking off with her teammates.

Emily swallowed hard, barely daring to look at you. When she finally did, you could see the regret written all over her face. 

"I didn’t… I didn’t intend for things to turn out like this" she started, her voice shaking a little.

"Why does my sister know about everything?" you asked sharply, not bothering to hide the bite in your tone as you sat down in the seat Alessia had just left. 

Emily took a deep breath. "She’s the only person who knows" she admitted.

“Bloody hell, Emily…” You hid your face in your hands. “She’ll never let me live this down.”

"I’m really sorry. I didn’t even know Leah had a sister. We just got close recently… and now I’ve totally messed it up.” 

You frowned. “Wait, I need to make it clear, I don’t care that I hooked up with someone Leah knows, especially since I didn’t even know. Just… forget that part."

Emily looked at you, a bit stunned. “I don’t think I can just… ignore it.”

The atmosphere softened a bit, and Emily took the moment to really look at you, almost as if seeing you for the first time. In the soft afternoon light, you seemed even more beautiful than you had in the dim bar where you’d first met. Her heart was racing, memories of that night flooding back without even needing to think about it.

"Forget about Leah" you urged, leaning forward slightly when you saw her getting lost in her thoughts. "Are you finally going to explain about the hotel? Because yeah, I said I forgave you, but come on, that was definitely just the alcohol… and other emotions talking."

The air seemed to clear as Emily opened up, her words slowly peeling off her shoulders like a weight lifting. She was genuine, vulnerable, and you could see she wanted to make things right.

"I never meant to insult you with the money… I just… it was my first time in London. I didn’t know where you lived or anything, and I really just wanted to make sure you got home okay" she explained, still visibly embarrassed every time she dared meet your eyes. “Letting you leave that night was… my biggest regret.”

Her honesty hit you harder than you expected. You could feel her drawing closer, revealing more of herself, and you couldn’t help but give her a small knowing smile. You noticed the shy, hopeful glint in her eyes, as if she was waiting to see if you’d forgive her.

"You know… I’ve been back to London quite a few times" you admitted, fiddling with your hands on the table. "And I kept telling myself it wasn’t to see you, because I was still so pissed off. But if I’m honest… I always hoped I’d run into you again. Part of me wanted to yell at you, maybe even give you a slap, but the other half…" You trailed off with a soft chuckle. "Well, I was kinda hoping to take you back to my room afterward."

Emily let out a quiet laugh, her eyes bright with a spark of hope she hadn’t felt in a long time.

"Maybe this time, I can try not to be an idiot" she said, her voice warm with real affection, and reached out, gently taking your hand.

Your heart skipped a beat, and without a second thought, you squeezed her hand. "I think you owe me that much."

Emily glanced toward the café door with a playful smile, then gently tugged you closer until your face was mere inches from hers. Her lips met yours in a slow, tender kiss, as if she was savoring the same sensation from the last time you’d been together.

"Fox!"

A couple of months later

The noise at Wembley was overwhelming, with chants and cheers echoing across the stadium as the players did their victory lap, waving at the fans. Alessia, still flushed and breathless from the game, spotted you in the crowd and flashed a cheeky grin.

“Look who decided to show up!” she shouted, her voice barely cutting through the noise. Leah, right behind her, looked up and met your eyes. Her face lit up the moment she saw you.

“I thought you weren’t coming” she said, weaving through the crowd and waving at some fans in the stands. Before she could say more, you pulled her into a tight hug, only to wrinkle your nose as you felt the sweat soaking through her shirt.

“You stink” you teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“You’re hilarious” Leah shot back, rolling her eyes before playfully pinching your cheek. You gave her a playful nudge in response, and Alessia laughed, clearly enjoying the usual back-and-forth between you two.

But then Alessia’s eyes landed on your outfit, and her smile turned into a wide grin. "Aren’t you hot in that jacket?" she asked.

You froze, shoving your hands in your pockets, trying to act casual. But Leah’s sharp eyes caught the faint pink creeping onto your cheeks. Her gaze shifted from amused to challenging.

“Wait… don’t tell me that-”

“No! Leah no!” you protested, but Leah had already grabbed your hands with unstoppable determination. In one smooth motion, she unzipped your jacket. Her face went from confusion to disbelief as she saw what you were wearing underneath.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” she muttered, her jaw almost dropping, while Alessia burst out laughing at the sight of the USA crest, the four stars, and the number 23 splashed across your blue shirt.

“There’s no way you’re at Wembley in that shirt,” Leah said, half laughing, half scowling, giving you a look of pure disbelief.

“Why do you think I had the jacket on, you idiot?” you shot back.

“This is too bloody good!” Alessia was practically doubled over, clutching her stomach as she looked between you and Leah, who was torn between laughing and being genuinely offended. Just then, Emily showed up, her face soft and shy, clearly unaware of the chaos she was walking into.

“Have you seen what she’s wearing?” Leah shot Emily a glance before letting out a dramatic sigh “Well, at least you showed up,” she muttered, giving you one last cheeky pinch before walking off, a smirk still lingering. Alessia followed, chuckling, and gave Emily a quick high five before heading back toward the rest of the team.

Once Leah was out of sight, Emily finally looked you up and down, and a giggle escaped her lips when she saw the shirt.

“I thought Leah might be less fuming if England won,” she murmured, rubbing the back of her neck, looking a little guilty, but also kind of sweet.

“Stop overthinking it,” you said softly, grabbing her by her collar and pulling her close, not caring one bit about the railing between you. You leaned in and kissed her, letting her know exactly how much you’d looked forward to this moment.

Emily’s hands found their way to your face, her thumbs tracing gentle circles on your cheeks. When she pulled back, a small smile played on her lips.

“Thanks for coming,” she whispered, her voice full of affection. Then she glanced down at your shirt again, laughing softly and her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Nice shirt choice by the way. Knew you’d make the right call.”

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 12

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 11 | Series Masterlist | Part 13

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.7k

Chapter Summary: Bucky gets under your skin when he takes you shopping.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dirty talk, mild dubcon (kissing, touching), tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and hope you enjoy! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren’t sure how much time passed with Bucky’s head resting in your lap, your fingers absentmindedly moving through his hair. While his body relaxed, you remained rigid. You tried to think of positive things. Your upcoming trip to the winery, Addison’s wedding. The images in your mind darkened though as if a cloud loomed over them. In a way, it did because you didn’t know what Bucky had planned for those events. Because even if Bucky really let you go to the winery alone, someone would be watching.

You forced the cloud in your mind to lift. Things could still be positive. You could still have a good day and have the best time with your friends.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work,” you whispered.

“Of course,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your thigh and lifting his head with a smile. The darkness had left his eyes. How long until it returned? “Thank you for calming me down.”

“Of course,” you echoed because what else could you do?

Brushing his pants off once he got to his feet, he helped you up and didn’t let go of your hand. You didn’t attempt to pull away. He made sure to grab the money you left on the table before he paid the server and you tried to give the poor guy a smile when you thanked him. You just wanted to get on with your day.

As Bucky led you out of the cafe and back to the shop, you caught Ray’s gaze as he stood by the car and waited for his boss. Whatever concern he showed for you faded when he blinked. How did he deal with this life? Would he ever walk away from it?

“I’ll pick you up after work then?” Bucky asked.

“Sure,” you said. You didn’t tell him when your shift ended, but he knew, didn’t he? “Thanks for lunch.”

“It was my pleasure, but one more thing.” Bucky stopped you before you could enter the shop. “This regular customer you mentioned earlier. How often does he stop in?”

He asked as if he had no idea and maybe he didn’t in this case. That assumption didn’t ease your worries. “Once a month,” you said, your stomach turning slightly. “Listen, the roses he tried to give to me, I gave them to him first. They were his usual order and I thought it would be nice gesture and I was just-”

His brows pinched a little as his hands gently framed your cheeks. “Kotyonok, why do you sound so upset?” He asked, his thumbs moving in a soothing motion as you took a deep breath. “Wait, are you scared that I’d be mad at you?”

“I… I don’t know,” you said. You didn’t necessarily think he’d be upset with you, but after his mood swings at lunch and everything else so far you weren't sure what to expect. “I just don't know.”

“No, no, no, I’m not mad at you. Why would I be mad that you were kind to another person? That’s one of the things I love about you. It drew me to you,” he assured you. You oddly felt better by his assurance. “I don’t want you to stop doing kind things for others because you’re worried it might upset me.”

“So, it doesn’t upset you?”

“You being you would never upset me,” he smiled. He had said more than once that he loved you as a person, so maybe he was telling the truth. “A man trying to give flowers to you while going through a break-up is, at the very least, a little strange.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you said, not wanting to admit that he had a point and that you were slightly put off when Clark tried to give the roses to you.

“I’m also well aware that you don’t hit on any guy who comes into your shop, so I wouldn’t view any act of kindness to a customer as trying to get their attention.”

“That’s true,” you agreed. Even Ray had pointed out to you that you didn’t give guys in the shop the time of day. Why would you when most of them were buying flowers for someone else? “But I just wanted you to know.”

“I appreciate you telling me, but you have nothing to worry about. Just have a good rest of the day.” With a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he whispered, “I’ll be thinking of you until I see you again.”

You weren’t sure why your heart fluttered. Relief that Bucky reacted calmly to what you said? You didn’t dwell on it as he held the door open and smiled after you as you went back into the shop. It was time to concentrate on work again.

Mrs. Crandle smiled and waved to Bucky through the door. “Oh, he is a looker,” she winked. “How was lunch, dear?”

“The food was good and Bucky and I got to talk a bit, which was… nice,” you answered, glancing around the shop and wondering if the place was bugged, too. Could he get access to the shop? Letting you continue to work seemed too good to be true, but he’d have nothing to worry about if he had eyes and ears there, too. “He’s taking me shopping tonight.”

She clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful! And don’t you dare be modest. Let him spoil you.”

“I have a feeling he’ll spoil me even if I don't ask him to,” you said.

Your whole experience with Bucky was whether you wanted it or not, so why would he stop now?

As expected, Bucky arrived back at the shop a few hours later to pick you up. Instead of giving him the chance to go inside and speak to Mrs. Crandle again, you grabbed your bag and rushed out the door to greet him. He caught you easily when you nearly collided with him, and for the first time, you felt like you were intruding in his space instead of the other way around.

“Eager to see me?” He smiled, his voice teasing as he kept a hand on your shoulder and helped you into the vehicle when you didn’t immediately answer. “How was the rest of your shift? I hope no one else bothered you.”

Just you.

“It was uneventful. I got a lot done,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you from the normalcy of your afternoon. “And no one bothered me.” Your gaze flickered to him and he was hanging onto your every word. He also looked much more relaxed, like the moodiness at lunch never happened. “How about you? How was your day?”

“Also uneventful. A couple of boring calls. Kept thinking about you though and it got me through the day,” he said, slipping an arm around you as the car door closed. The way you two were speaking to each other sounded almost normal. Checking in on each other, seeing how the other was doing. “Steve asked about that double date.”

“I’m sure he’s excited for that,” you said, wondering if that poor coat check girl had any idea.

“We both are. You can find a dress for that, too,” he smiled fondly. “In fact, what would you think of me getting you a new wardrobe when you move in? Your style, your choice on everything. You name it.”

You raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty washing over you. “Is there something wrong with my current wardrobe?” You hadn’t done anything to deserve a whole new set of clothes and you hoped he wasn’t suggesting it to mold you more to his liking.

“Nothing wrong with it at all. You have great taste and I just want to spoil you,” he said, running a finger down your side. This was the man who let you go into his exclusive club wearing a dressed down outfit simply because it was you, so he’d probably let you get away with any sort of wardrobe you wanted. “Do you know how ravishing you look right now?”

“I’m not ravishing. I’m in my work clothes,” you muttered.

“You are ravishing,” he said, moving his finger back up as you shivered. “We should get some stargazer lilies for your first night in our home. I could strip you down, lay you out on our bed, and brush one of the petals along your skin.”

You inhaled sharply and closed your eyes, trying not to picture him spreading you out on a luxurious bed. He would say something like that when he was right in your space and you had nowhere to go. The man went from zero to sixty in seconds. No doubt he could feel you tremble and knew your heart was racing.

“Bet it’ll feel soft against your nipples,” he whispered, exhaling against your ear. “And your pussy.”

Your next breath was shallow, but you managed not to whimper. “Where are we going shopping?” You asked evenly, hoping to get to the destination sooner rather than later.

You stubbornly kept your eyes shut when he chuckled. “You’re changing the topic because you’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Worried you’ll get your panties soaked before we get to the shop?” He questioned, your heart thudding. You didn’t want to think about it at all. You wanted out of the car so you could properly breathe again. “I’m sorry. I’m not playing nice, am I? We’re going to one of your favorite stores and you can pick out whatever you want.”

You’d no doubt look at the price tags out of habit since you shopped on a budget and bought your nicer pieces on sale. “Do you ever really play nice?” You asked, opening your eyes. “One moment you’re being vulnerable and talking about your family and the next time I see you you’re talking about sleeping with me. I’m shocked the whiplash hasn’t scrambled my brain.”

The image of him destroying the utensil at lunch like it was nothing flashed in your mind for some reason. And him and his gang beating up John. Just how strong was he? Was he a killer?

“Sometimes we’ll talk about something tough or serious and the next it may be something more fun or intimate. That’s part of being in a relationship,” he said. If only it were an authentic relationship. “I want that with you, telling you what’s on my mind and how I feel.”

If he cared about what was on your mind or how you felt, he’d back off and let you have a bit of space. “Relationships are built on mutual respect and trust,” you said. Did he not see that the mutual respect wasn't there since he pushed for things to be his way? And trust was something he couldn't force no matter how powerful he was.

“I understand that. You also said a first date was getting to know each other and seeing if there's a mutual connection. I'm opening up to you, letting you get to know me. I’m getting to know you, too, beyond the things I knew in advance,” he said. What was he learning about you that he didn’t already know? “And you can't tell me you don't feel something for me.”

“Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear, Bucky? That I want you and want to be with you?” You asked. Even if you did develop feelings for him, it would have to be classified as some form of stockholm syndrome. And even then, strong feelings wouldn’t be enough. He wanted everything from you. “That I don’t want anyone else?”

The hand along your side crept up to your neck, tension heightening when he gently squeezed. He loved putting his hand around your throat. “You do want me, you do want to be with me, you’ll never want anyone else once I have you and I know you love how much I want you,” he spoke with confidence, like he could make the words come true as you took your next breath. “Should I check your panties before we go inside and feel how wet they are?”

You needed to distract him. Fight him. Do something. “What’s your love language?” You blurted out. “Physical Touch?”

“What?” He whispered, your heart still pounding when he slowly moved his hand away from your throat.

“Your love language. You constantly touch me when I’m close to you, so I guessed Physical Touch,” you explained. He always had a hand on you.

He sat back with a pensive look. “No one has ever asked me that.”

“Oh,” you said as the car rolled to a stop. You blindly reached for the door handle. “Well, it’s something to think about if you don’t know.”

He held your arm when you tried to get out. “You express yourself through Acts of Service with loving gestures and helping with tasks, but what you crave is Quality Time because you value meaningful interactions and connecting with people on a more personal level.”

You nodded slowly. It was why you loved hanging out with your girlfriends. You cherished making memories with them.

“You also appreciate Words of Affirmation, even if compliments make you feel uncertain because you sometimes feel overlooked. The combination of those languages makes you feel seen and heard,” he continued, giving you a tender smile. “I can hear and see you if you let me.”

You found yourself unable to speak as he gauged your reaction, your throat tight as if gripped by an unseen force. He nailed it right on the head about your love languages, didn't he? “I need air,” you whispered, letting yourself out of the car once he let you go.

The tightness in your throat moved to your heart. Bucky saw and heard you in his own way, didn't he? Not just as a passing thought but because he genuinely believed he loved you, deeply and wholeheartedly. The more he sank his fangs in, the more venom he injected. You had to be your own antidote.

With a shake of your head, you glanced up at the shop. True to his word, it was one you loved. Another piece of yourself that would now be tied to him.

You jumped when Bucky appeared beside you and took your arm. “You okay?” He asked, studying your face with gentle eyes.

“Just fine,” you replied, smiling for his sake. “Let's go shopping.”

You walked into the boutique together, the air filled with a subtle mix of lavender and something sweet that made you feel right at home. The space was a blend of trendy and rustic, exuding charm and intimacy. Clothes lined the wooden shelves and vintage racks, showcasing a variety of styles that ranged from casual to bold. Delicate accessories sparkled in the soft light, inviting you to explore.

You could easily find the perfect dress for the winery here.

“Hello! Welcome to… Oh! Mr. Barnes,” the associate smiled, her heels clicking on the floor. She was a picture perfect example of style and beauty. “I have the back dressing room set up and I’ll be sure no one disturbs you or your girlfriend. It was sundresses you requested, correct?”

Bucky looked proud of himself. “Yes, the perfect sundress for my girl,” he smiled, his blue eyes sparkling as he looked at you. “And whatever dress you choose, you’ll need jewelry. Oh, and a clutch.”

“Girlfriend?” You asked. He must not have wanted a repeat of how the hostess treated the two of you at lunch. “Wait, you already have dresses selected for me to try on?”

“He called and gave us all the details. And we’ll make sure you have everything you need,” the associate promised as Bucky nudged you ahead of him to follow her. Was anyone else in the shop? “Would either of you like a water?”

“No thank you,” you said. You were never offered a water when you shopped there before, but you were never there with Bucky Barnes.

“Just let me know if you need anything at all,” she smiled, opening the dressing room door.

Bucky thanked her as he took a seat in one of the chairs across from the door, watching you expectantly. “If you don't like any of them, we can go somewhere else.���

“I’m sure they're fine,” you said, going into the room and shutting the door before he could say anything else.

Quickly slipping off your shoes, pants, and top, you turned your attention to a small rack with a range of sundresses. Checking each tag as you pushed through them, none of them on sale, it wasn't a surprise that they were all your size. And all something you'd consider wearing. After flipping through the dresses twice, you decided to try on a sleeveless white dress with small rosebuds. It would be nice for a vineyard.

Before you could put the dress on, the door opened. “Need any help?” Bucky asked as you spun around in your bra and underwear, his eyes slowly scanning your body before you had a chance to cover yourself.

“No. I…” you trailed off as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity before he breathed your name, want written all over his face. The dressing room felt small. Hot. You could hardly breathe as panic threatened to overwhelm you. And you couldn't do anything but step back as he stepped closer, a predator ready to capture his prey.

Your back hit the mirror when he brought a hand to your chin, your knees shaking as he leaned in. “You’re right about one thing,” he said in a husky tone. “I do crave Physical Touch. Yours.”

He pressed his lips to yours, keeping you still and giving you no chance to turn your head away. It was a light, feathering sort of kiss before his tongue flicked out to trace your lips. He teased you until you opened up for him and allowed his tongue to sweep into your mouth. You couldn't think as he groaned and continued his claim. It was only a matter of time until he claimed you completely.

Bucky pulled away a little, his free hand moving down your torso in a possessive path. “Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he rasped. You felt so small, your insides both frozen and melting from his touch. “Just wanna take you home and make you ride my face before I fuck you.”

You gasped when his knee moved between your legs, your hands flying up to hold his arms. He rocked his leg and you felt power in the motion, a promise of what was to come once he had you where he wanted you. “Bucky,” you whispered. The next word out of your mouth was smothered by his lips, but he didn't increase the urgency in his kisses. He took his time. Like the world could be burning around you and he’d let the flames take over as long as he was kissing you.

You bit back a whimper when he rocked his knee harder, the friction sending heat to your core. Another roll of his body and you were certain you felt the outline of his cock. Bringing a hand to his chest, you lightly pushed. It was already going too far. To your surprise, he broke the kiss. His eyes were still hungry though. “You said you want to hear me?” You asked breathlessly, your lip trembling when his thumb brushed it. “Then not here, please,” you whispered, praying he'd stop.

If he was going to have you, it wouldn't be in a dressing room.

“Right. Not for our first time.” He tipped his head back as he took a breath, no doubt trying to control himself. “Just one more kiss, Kotyonok. One more for me to dream about tonight,” he groaned, bringing his face back to yours for one more kiss with fervor. Just when you thought it would turn more ravenous, he shifted to something soft, tender. A feeling that had both of you shaking when it ended, but likely for different reasons.

You stayed upright when he stepped back and gave you space, but your legs still shook as he straightened up his clothes and looked you over once more. If he could devour you with a look... “Thank you.” He actually listened to you and didn't push it any further.

He glanced down as he adjusted his pants and you tried to avoid looking at the tent he began to sport. Horror filled you when your gaze went lower to the wet spot by his knee. He hadn't gotten you off, but you both knew he sparked some arousal within you. “Can’t wait ‘til you really make a mess on my pants,” he smirked, walking out just as quietly as he entered the tiny room.

Fighting back tears once he shut the door, you touched your lips. Bucky finally kissed you. Your mouth still tingled. You still felt him there.

Glancing at the rack of dresses, you wished he really was a sweet boyfriend trying to spoil you just because he could. But he hadn't given you a chance to pick them out yourself. He spoke for you, like you were a doll. It was just another piece he put in place for his twisted puzzle of your relationship.

What was wrong with you?

You pulled your clothes back on and flung the door open so hard it almost hit the wall. Bucky’s smug look immediately changed to concern when you walked out holding a sundress. “This one's fine,” you said in a flat tone.

“Are you sure?” He asked, sitting up more in his chair. “You didn't try it on, did you?”

“It’s the one I want,” you said, calling for the associate before Bucky had a chance to argue. You gave her a stiff smile when she joined you and handed over the garment, feeling Bucky’s eyes on you. “Whatever jewelry and handbag you think will go with this, I’ll take it. I trust your judgment.”

“Oh, this dress is lovely and we have the perfect accessories for this. Would you like to look at shoes as well? Or maybe something to go with any of the other dresses?” She asked, her eyes wide as you brushed past her. “Miss?”

“I’m sorry. I need to step outside,” you said, not wanting to be rude to her.

Bucky called after you, but you ignored him. You were furious with yourself. You let him kiss you and allowed some of his words to get under your skin. He didn't fuck you, but he still won, didn't he? And you were letting him. Just like with everything else.

You took two steps out of the shop before you felt a grip on your arm. “Woah. Slow down,” Bucky said, turning you to face him. “What’s wrong?”

Everything.

“It doesn't matter, but if you really want to see and hear me, please, pay attention,” you said, yanking your arm away. “I want to go home.”

“Why? Is it because that kiss meant something to you and you don't want to admit it?” He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “If you're embarrassed that it made you wet, don't be. I'm flattered. Besides, it got me hard.”

Heat filled your cheeks and you wanted to smack him. There was a fine line between the delusion he had in his head and the reality of the situation. The tightrope you were walking was close to snapping. “I’m not embarrassed. I can't breathe.” You stepped back, trying to give yourself space. Was Ray watching from the car? “Everything in my life recently has revolved around you or you being there. Say what you want about me being lonely, it doesn't give you an excuse to take over.”

Bucky’s smile slipped, like he was really seeing how bothered you were. “I told you I just want to love you. And you enjoy Quality Time.”

“Quality Time when we agree upon it. And love itself should be the thing to take my breath away, not you smothering me,” you gently stated.

“I’m not trying to smother you.” He shifted like he was the one uncomfortable, his gaze flicking to the ground. “I… I know you can't breathe,” he said, lifting a hand as if to reach out before he dropped it and took a deep breath. “That’s why I'm leaving you alone tomorrow,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You're what?” You asked in disbelief, catching the hint of vulnerability in his eyes as his shoulders dropped. He hadn't left you alone since he broke in. Why in the world would he stop now?

“I was going to bring it up when I dropped you off.” His hand worked its way through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about it and talking and… I’m smothering you. I know I am. Rearranging your schedule, making you meet my friends, and everything else. So…” He reached for you this time and took your hand. “I’m giving you a breather and I’m not going to be around tomorrow. No surprise visits. No calls. Maybe a text, but nothing more.”

You blinked. “So, we won't see each other tomorrow?” You tried not to get too excited. It was only a day, but between that and the girls day that was still something. You had to go the cautiously optimistic route again and take what you got.

But you also couldn't help but wonder why he was really giving you that space. Did Ray or someone say something to him? Was this another ploy to keep you in line?

“You won't see me. God knows I’ll miss you, but it's just a day, right?” He squeezed your hand. “Maybe you’ll miss me, too.”

“I appreciate you giving me that space,” you said sincerely. He needed that space, too, even if he didn't believe it. “And maybe I will.”

“We won't have to miss each other much longer once we're together in the penthouse,” he said, his tone soft and your heart sinking. “Will you answer one thing: Did that kiss mean something to you?”

You didn't want to answer that. If you denied it, it would be a lie or he’d either see through it or snap. If you confirmed it, it would feed him more hope. You still had to examine your feelings because you were afraid and you couldn't think with him staring at you with those longing eyes.

“It meant something,” you answered, not expanding on what exactly it meant when he exhaled. It wasn't smart to let him decipher it how he wished because he could use it against you later.

He took your breath away once more when he pulled you close and brushed his lips against yours. Just as quickly as he started, he stopped and brushed his nose against yours. Any passerby would think it was a sweet moment between a couple making up from an argument. “Thank you,” he whispered, his thumb moving along the racing pulse in your wrist. “Come back inside, please? Pick out a few things for real and then I’ll take you home so you can relax.”

You remembered that the bugs were still in your apartment, which took some more of your enthusiasm away. But if Bucky was really going to leave you alone tomorrow, you’d have to appreciate the time to yourself. Maybe you could pack a bag and get out of the city even sooner than planned.

It wouldn't hurt to try, right? What was the worst that could happen? Making him freak out over your safety? That could be bad.

“Okay. A few things for real and then home,” you agreed.

“That’s my girl.” He turned and paused at the door with a smile. “Can I at least help you try on the dress? Or you can model it for me and I'll tell you how beautiful you are.”

You smiled back a little. “Don't push your luck,” you said, missing the pair of blue eyes that watched you and Bucky go back into the shop.

So, a little bit of action. 😏 Will it be enough to tide Bucky over? Is he really going to leave you alone for a day? Who was watching you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[darlingdaisyfarm]

more mad scientist ford?? he does stuff to us PLEASE

im not very proud of my writing and ideas, im sorry

tags: sexual themes, injection, syringe, experiment, slapping, fem reader

⚛︎ :•.🧪 mad scientist!Ford

You’re sitting on the edge of his lab table, your legs swinging slightly, fingers gripping the cold metal edge because of nervousness. The sterile, sharp smell of antiseptic and strange chemicals fills the air, while Ford is focused on a task, meticulously preparing his latest experiment.

You try to exude nonchalance, crossing your legs and shifting on the table, but your heart races beneath your calm facade. The moment he glances your way, it feels like being placed under a microscope, scrutinized and exposed in the most intimate way.

“Well, well, well,” Ford’s voice is low and smooth and he straightens, finally directing his full attention at you. His gloved hands adjust the mask covering his mouth and he lifts a syringe filled with a luminous green liquid that glows like toxic emeralds. The eerie glow of his lab lights casts sharp shadows over his face, making his expression look even more predatory. “why so scared, darling?" 

His voice, muffled slightly through the mask, sounds mocking, amused as he steps closer. “don’t tell me you’re worried about growing an extra finger?” he holds up one of his gloved hands, wiggling his six fingers with a smirk.

You bite your lip, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact, to stay still despite the gleaming needle hovering dangerously near. “No, not scared,” you manage to whisper, your voice softer than you intended, laden with a mixture of fear and something close to excitement.

He tilts his head. “Oh? playing brave, are we?” his gloved hand grips your thigh, fingers pressing enough to keep you still.

“Hold still, darling,” he brings the syringe closer to your skin, hovering just above your arm. “It’ll only hurt if you move.”

“Doctor Pines, wait—” you breathe, panic creeping into your chest.

“Relax, sweetheart, you’ll be just fine. Just a little poke.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. Your breath catches as the needle breaks the skin, sharp, immediate, sending a sting through you. You wince, lips parting as the burn of whatever he’s injected starts to settle in, spreading like a strange warmth under your skin.

“There you go, just like that,” he whispers, tracing his fingers over your arm, lingering on your skin with a slow touch, as if rewarding you for your compliance. “such a good girl, holding still for me. . .”

You shiver, heat rushing through your veins and you don’t know if it’s from injection or the way his voice sounds, how he praises and calms you.

“Didn’t think you’d be this obedient,” Ford adds, his lips brushing perilously close to your ear. His gloved fingers caress your jaw, tilting your face up so you’re forced to meet his dark, satisfied gaze. “you’re being so brave, it’s making me want to reward you.”

You look at him with big eyes as his gaze drops to your lips, oh yes, his kiss would be the best reward. Please, please, kiss me, dr. Pines. You try to not move so much, but it’s impossible – your body reacts to him, every nerve tingling under his touch, you need him badly, need him to touch you, to kiss you.

The injection burns, a slow, simmering heat that radiates through your veins, sinking deep into your muscles. You bite your lip, stifling a gasp as the sensation settles, spreading warmth to places you didn’t expect.

Ford steps back, his expression shifting to one of cold concentration as he scribbles notes. “Interesting,” he murmurs, not even glancing up as he jots down observations. “Subject shows signs of heightened arousal after the introduction of the serum. Fascinating. . .” and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re just a part of his grand experiment while he continues muttering about “accelerated responses” and “stimulated neurochemistry”.

“Localized reaction along the bloodstream, increased dilation, elevated pulse,” he notes, clearly more engrossed in his findings than in your squirming.

Then, he closes his notebook and steps forward, positioning himself right between your legs.

You suck in a breath, heat pooling in your stomach and it’s like every nerve is suddenly alive under his fingertips. 

“Well?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing circles over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “what are you feeling, sweetheart? any noticeable side effects?”

“I. . . I feel. . .” you trail off, your voice faltering as his hand slides up, resting on your lower back, pulling you forward, bringing your bodies even closer. “I feel hot, doctor Pines.” words slipping from your lips in a dazed, needy whisper. The embarrassment only making you more aware of how desperate you are under his hands.

His eyes spark with interest, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. One hand moves up, cupping your breast with a lazy grip, his thumb brushing over you in slow, teasing circles. His eyes stay locked on your face, watching every little gasp, every shiver, the way you look at him with parted lips, half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. And then he grips harder, digging his fingers in as he rolls your breast under his palm, testing your reactions with every squeeze.

You arch into his touch, a whimper spilling from your mouth and that only spurs him on.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” Ford squeezes harder, rougher, his grip verging on painful, but it only fuels the heat building inside you, making you ache.

Then, without warning, his hand leaves your breast and a sudden, sharp slap lands across your cheek, startling you, the sting blooming hot and fast on your skin. However, that only makes you press your thighs together, desperate for more.

“Look at you, so responsive. This formula might be my best work yet!”

And that’s why, hours later, you stumble out of his lab with trembling legs, your mind hazy and his seed slowly dripping down your thighs.

[castiwls]

juno .ᐟ

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'one of me is cute but two tho’

Requested; @mochminnie

Notes;

Masterlist | short n sweet

Children had never really been on your or Dean's radar. Sure when you were younger the idea of a picket fence had sounded nice but now as an adult and knowing the life you currently lived, you’d both come to an unspoken agreement that it was not the time for kids.

Well, that was until you ended up in the possession of a shifter baby.

“C’mon, sweetheart you’re not seriously considering it.” Dean laughed climbing into bed beside you. He pulled you into his side with a quiet sigh.

The last few days had been nothing short of insane. He thought he’d seen it all and then suddenly Sam’s back and now he has an extended family he wasn’t sure if he trusted or not.

The only person acting like god damn normal was you. Well, you were until you’d announced that you wanted a baby.

He wasn’t ready for a baby! He was pretty sure he’d also just proved it if the way you’d reacted when he’d given the shifter whiskey was anything.

“Think about it.” You hummed, your tone dreamy almost as the image of him holding the baby flashed through your head again.

“I am.” He responded gruffly as his eyes slipped shut. “I’m thinking and I’m telling you no.”

You huffed looking up to him with a slight pout. Dean cracked an eye open, grinning at your expression. “Don’t pull that face at me. No babies end off.”

He squeezed your body closer to his as you continued to frown. “Can’t we just talk about it? I saw you with that baby Dean, you didn’t look too annoyed then.”

He hummed looking at the ceiling for a moment. Maybe the baby had been slightly cute.

“Though if we do have a kid we are not naming it Bobby-John.” You scoffed. Dean shot you an offended look as he moved back ever so slightly to see your face better.

“Hey! What’s wrong with my naming abilities!”

“You can get middle naming duties.”

“Hey, if we’re doing this it’s my child too sweetheart and I’m not letting you name it somthin stupid like…like Sally.”

“Sally? Seriously?” You shook your head, amusement flashing in your eyes as you saw the playful glint in his own.

Dean nodded. “So we’re at an agreement. No Sally.”

“No Sally.” You nodded.

Dean’s hand rubbed over your shoulder slowly as you sat up, shifting to sit across his lap. He smiled as you came face to face, his other hand brushing a piece of your hair back.

“Think about it. A little baby who’s the spit of me or you? How cute would that be!” Your voice was soft now, the same one you used to convince him to let you pick the dinner place whenever you were bored of his constant fast food.

“Think about it? For me?”

He huffed but fell quiet. A mini-you did sound a lot more appealing than another version of him. The world didn’t need two Dean Winchesters running around.

“I dunno sweetheart, two of you sounds kinda like a nightmare.” You gasped hitting his chest.

“Shut up, a mini version of me would be so cute.”

“Mhm.”

“Dean!”

“I’m joking.” He laughed. “I’m joking. I think it would be adorable.”

You nodded happily before falling quiet. “Does that mean you’re willing to try?” You said after a moment, peaking up through your lashes.

“Jesus-“ he huffed before taking a breath. God damn it you’d made the idea so appealing.

“It better be a damn girl.” He grumbled before flipping you both over. You gasped as your back hit the mattress before a slow smirk grew on your lips.

“If not we can always try again.”

[muiitoloko]

Hi, first of anything I love and ate up every single thing you wrote. That said I NEED a story where Sev is about to be a dad, they are both in the last week of pregnancy just waiting for the moment the little girl (why do we all see him as a baby girl dad tho?) and he's just reflexive on how his life is right now after suffering so much and thinking he would die alone. If you want to add the birth and baby birth that's even better 💔 thanks.

Title: The Twin Stars in Snape's World

Summary: Severus's world shifts entirely with the birth of his daughters, filling the shadows of his past with light and love that he never thought he’d experience.

Pairing: Severus Snape × Fem! Reader

Warnings: None

Author's Notes: It’s not exactly what you asked for, but I was already working on a third chapter for my fanfic Daddy Snape's Dilemma, and your request totally nudged me to finish it up and post it! Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

First, Second and Third part here.

Also read on Ao3

The final week of your pregnancy arrived, and Severus Snape was, without a doubt, more nervous than you had ever seen him. Over the past months, his protectiveness had gradually intensified, but now, as you neared the end, it had reached an almost comical extreme. He refused to let you out of his sight, shadowing your every move with the intensity of a hawk, his tall, lean figure looming close no matter where you went.

At Hogwarts, his vigilance took on a new form. Snape had all but bullied Dumbledore into hiring a temporary teacher to cover your Ancient Runes classes. You could tell Dumbledore found the whole thing rather amusing, indulging Snape’s demands with a patient, almost fatherly tolerance. As for Snape, there was no humor in it—his determination was fueled by what seemed to be genuine, bone-deep fear.

Instead of teaching, you were relegated to a bedroom at the back of the Potions classroom, with Snape popping in between his own lessons to check on you. You had never seen him so anxious, his usual stoic facade cracking more with each passing day. He would pace outside your quarters, shoulders tense, the dark circles under his eyes deepening. Despite his best efforts to hide it, he was deeply stressed, behaving as if he were the one about to give birth.

You noticed that this worry manifested in another unexpected way: the matter of naming your daughters. Every day he would bring you lists, scrolls of parchment filled with options he had painstakingly compiled, poring over the names with the same scrutiny he’d apply to brewing a delicate, dangerous potion. Each name had to be perfect, meaningful, and worthy.

He had presented you with everything from mythological names to obscure, poetic words he’d found in ancient texts. You, however, had a different approach. “Severus,” you said one evening as he handed you yet another list, his expression serious, “I know you want to have everything planned, but… we’ll know their names when we see them. Don’t you think?”

Snape’s gaze turned sharp, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as if the suggestion was almost sacrilegious. “And what if we don’t?” he retorted, his voice low and pointed. “What if we look at them and realize we’ve failed to give them names that reflect who they are meant to be?”

You bit back a smile, reaching out to touch his hand, feeling the tension radiate from his slender, calloused fingers. “Severus, we won’t fail them just because we haven’t decided on names yet. They’re our daughters—they’ll be extraordinary no matter what we call them.”

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing a fraction as he looked down at you, the intensity in his gaze softening. “I’m merely trying to… prepare. It is my responsibility as their father to see to it that they have everything they need—even a name that will protect them from the start.”

His protectiveness tugged at your heart, and you squeezed his hand. “You’re already giving them everything they need, Severus. They’ll have you.”

Snape’s expression shifted, a rare vulnerability flickering across his angular face, though he quickly hid it. “Yes, well…” he muttered, glancing away. “I still believe we should at least shortlist a few options.”

Over the next few days, you managed to narrow down the lists together, though every time you thought you’d settled on something, he’d return with yet another alternative he deemed equally worthy. It became almost endearing, watching him struggle with his need for control over something as uncontrollable as birth.

You chuckled one evening, teasing him, “You do realize, Severus, that the girls might decide their names for us? They could arrive and look nothing like any of these.”

His frown deepened, though a hint of amusement flickered in his dark eyes. “They will look like you,” he replied, his voice almost possessive, as though that was an immutable fact. “And if they resemble you, then any name I choose will be worthy.”

In the quiet moments, you could see past his impatience, his need for everything to be just so. He was terrified. The great, imposing Severus Snape, who had faced dangers most wizards could scarcely imagine, was terrified of this unknown journey. And though he hid it behind his meticulous planning, his anxiety was evident in every line he wrote, every name he researched.

One night, as he sat beside you, poring over yet another scroll, you couldn’t help but place your hand over his, stilling his movements. “Severus,” you said softly, your voice gentle, “it’s all right to be scared.”

He didn’t pull his hand away, but he didn’t meet your eyes, his jaw tight. “I am not afraid,” he replied, though his tone lacked conviction. His voice was softer, almost strained. “I simply… cannot afford any mistakes. Not with them. Not with you.”

You placed a hand on your belly, feeling a gentle kick as if one of the babies could sense his unease. You guided his hand to the spot, letting him feel the movement.

“They’re already telling us they’re fine,” you whispered, smiling as his eyes softened, a faint blush creeping up his pale cheeks. “And you’re going to be an incredible father.”

For a brief moment, the tension melted from his face, replaced by a rare, unguarded expression. He watched you, his hand lingering on your belly, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles over the spot where he’d felt the kick.

“Two girls,” he murmured, almost to himself, his voice filled with a strange mixture of awe and dread. “I don’t know if I’m prepared for this.”

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, your heart swelling with love for this man who had, against all odds, become so much more than you’d ever dreamed possible. “You’ll be ready, Severus,” you assured him, your voice full of conviction. “They’re already lucky to have you.”

In that moment, as he held you close, his face buried in your shoulder, you knew that no matter what names were chosen, no matter how unprepared he felt, your daughters would be loved beyond measure. And for Severus, that was the truest magic of all.

Snape sat at his desk, his gaze flickering over the rows of students carefully attempting the day’s potion. A faint curl of distaste tugged at his lips as he caught sight of Potter, who, as usual, seemed perilously close to ruining his cauldron’s contents. Snape had already reprimanded him once that morning, his words slicing through the dungeon air with the sharpness he reserved for the boy. Yet now, as he sat in silence, the other students barely daring to breathe, his attention drifted elsewhere, pulled toward thoughts far removed from the dungeons of Hogwarts.

Just behind him, a faint rustle and creak filtered through the door to your shared quarters. The faint sounds of movement as you stirred from sleep. A warmth crept into his chest, breaking through the stoic shell he maintained with such precision.

As his gaze returned to the students before him, he felt the familiar, bittersweet pang of Lily’s memory—his first love, and his greatest regret. For so long, her shadow had been his constant companion, filling him with a cold, unrelenting ache. Protecting her son had become his purpose, his penance. And after her death, he had accepted that this mission would likely be the only meaning his life would ever have. There had been a time when he thought he might die carrying it out—perhaps even hoped for it.

But then you had entered his life.

A sigh escaped his lips, almost inaudible beneath the simmering of potions and the scratch of quills. The world had shifted when you came into it, and now, with the prospect of your daughters’ arrival in only three days, he felt that shift more acutely than ever. A sense of purpose, something wholly separate from his debt to Lily, had taken root within him.

You had given him a reason to live that went beyond atonement. The life growing within you, two delicate lives entwined with his own, felt like a redemption he had never believed possible. For the first time, he could imagine a future not defined by sacrifice and solitude, but by something richer, something gentler.

Snape’s hand tightened briefly around the edge of his desk, and he watched his students, their heads bent over their cauldrons, oblivious to his thoughts. He had spent years mastering his emotions, transforming them into weapons, shields, armor against the outside world. But now, he realized that he could no longer afford to wield that armor so thoughtlessly.

These children, his daughters—they would be born into a world fractured by war, a world where he had a role to play in the coming darkness. Yet for them, he could not allow himself the luxury of despair or surrender. For the first time, he couldn’t imagine simply fading away into the shadows after Voldemort’s defeat. It was no longer an option to leave this life without knowing that his daughters would grow up strong, safe, and surrounded by the kind of love he had never known.

As the thought took root, Snape’s jaw tightened, a new resolve settling over him like a cloak. He would survive this war. He would survive, not because of some duty to the past, but because of a responsibility to the future—to his family. He would see his daughters grow up; he would teach them, protect them, stand by their side as they learned about the world and perhaps even found their own places in it.

For once, the prospect of living beyond the war held something other than pain. A faint vision of two young girls, with bright eyes and curious minds, drifted through his mind. His daughters, growing up, asking questions about the stars, about potions, perhaps even about love. And you—by his side, guiding them with the warmth he could only hope to echo.

The shrill sound of a student’s cauldron hissing sharply brought him back to the present. He narrowed his eyes at the offending student, who paled under his glare and quickly adjusted the heat, stammering an apology. Snape stood up abruptly, his dark eyes narrowing as he prepared to address the room. But before he could say a word, a loud crash echoed through the dungeons as the door to his quarters burst open.

He whipped around, dark eyes narrowing, but whatever sharp retort had been on his lips vanished as he took in the sight before him.

There you stood, gripping the doorway, your face flushed, one hand braced against your lower back and the other cradling your rounded belly. The look on your face was equal parts determination and alarm, but it was the words that followed that sent his heart racing.

“It’s happening,” you gasped, your voice shaky but clear.

For a moment, Snape stood frozen, your words echoing in his mind, the meaning of them almost surreal. Happening? He glanced down, his mind racing. Surely not—

His thoughts halted abruptly as Ron Weasley’s voice, loud and tactless, filled the silence. “Why’s she peeing herself in front of everyone?”

Hermione’s horrified gasp quickly followed, and she smacked him on the arm, whispering furiously, “She’s not peeing herself, Ron! Her water’s broken! She’s giving birth!”

That was all it took to snap Snape out of his stunned stupor. The babies were coming—now. Much earlier than planned. His eyes widened, and he lunged from behind his desk, moving to your side in an instant, his usual composure nowhere in sight.

“Merlin,” he muttered under his breath, one hand hovering awkwardly near you, unsure whether to support you or hold back in case he only made things worse. “You… you’re sure?” he stammered, though he immediately realized how absurd that question was.

You managed a small, pained laugh. “Quite sure, Severus.”

His mind raced as he attempted to regain his bearings. The portkey to St. Mungo’s—they’d had it prepared weeks ago, but it had seemed more like an overcautious precaution at the time. Now, with the urgency of the situation hitting him, he felt his calm shatter.

He shot a look around the classroom, and his gaze landed on the nearest student—Hermione Granger, who was watching with wide eyes, clearly understanding the seriousness of the situation. “Miss Granger,” he barked, his voice laced with barely concealed panic, “fetch Professor McGonagall. Tell her to cover this class immediately.”

Hermione jumped to her feet, nodding fervently as she dashed from the room, her own nervous energy amplifying the urgency. Meanwhile, Snape turned back to you, his heart racing as he tried to mask his worry.

“Severus,” you breathed, clutching his arm. “The portkey—”

He nodded quickly, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Yes, of course.” His hand moved to his robes, fingers fumbling as he retrieved the small, inconspicuous glass vial enchanted to transport you both directly to St. Mungo’s.

He held the vial up to you, and you grabbed it, your other hand gripping his arm tightly as the room around you vanished in a whirl of colors. The bustling noise of Hogwarts faded, replaced by the sterile quiet of the St. Mungo’s ward as you both landed in the reception area, nearly stumbling from the sudden shift in location.

A Healer rushed toward you both, her eyes widening as she took in the scene. “Mrs. Snape—oh my, it’s early!” she exclaimed, gesturing to an available stretcher as she signaled to her colleagues. “Let’s get you to a delivery room.”

Snape’s hands hovered near you, his face a mixture of worry and focus as he helped you onto the stretcher. As the Healers moved you down the hallway, he kept pace beside you, his long strides easily matching their quick pace. He reached out to take your hand, gripping it tightly as you squeezed back, the intensity of the contractions beginning to set in.

“You’re doing fine,” he murmured, his deep voice steadier than he felt. “Just breathe.”

A faint smile crossed your face despite the pain. “Severus Snape, giving breathing advice. Now I’ve seen everything.”

He quirked an eyebrow, though his expression softened. “Mock me all you like, but keep breathing.”

The Healers moved efficiently, ushering you into the delivery room and setting you up as Snape hovered close, his dark gaze flicking anxiously between you and the medical staff. He could feel the old fear surfacing—the fear of the unknown, the helplessness of standing by while others took over. But your hand in his grounded him, your presence reminding him that he was exactly where he needed to be.

A Healer turned to him, her expression calm and reassuring. “It may take a few hours, Professor. These things are rarely quick, and with twins…”

Snape’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, settling into a chair beside you, his hand never leaving yours.

Hours passed, though they felt like mere minutes to him. He was acutely aware of every moment—the sound of your breathing, the tightening of your grip during contractions, the reassuring words from the Healers. He remained silent, his face a mask of concentration, his own discomfort forgotten in his focus on you.

The hours stretched, each contraction increasing the tension in the room. Severus remained by your side, his hand firmly gripping yours, his dark eyes watching every move the Healers made with suspicion. But the moment the lead Healer suggested you get up and walk to help progress the labor, his calm snapped.

“Walk?” His voice, usually controlled and low, rose sharply, filled with uncharacteristic alarm. “You expect her to walk in this state? Are you out of your minds?”

The Healer, a kindly-looking witch with graying hair, gave Severus a reassuring smile, accustomed to nervous fathers. “Professor Snape,” she began gently, “encouraging movement can help speed things along. It’s quite common, especially with twins.”

Severus’s mouth opened and closed a few times, his face paling even more. “Common?” he echoed incredulously, his gaze darting from you to the Healer. “My wife is in labor, Madam, with twins, and you want her to walk about like she’s merely out for a stroll?”

Despite the contractions, you couldn’t help but chuckle at his outburst. “Severus,” you managed between breaths, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “It’s fine. I can walk a little.”

He looked at you, his dark eyes wide with concern, clearly torn. The thought of you enduring even the smallest discomfort was driving him nearly mad. “If—if you’re certain…” he muttered, though his grip on your arm was firm as he helped you out of bed, as if preparing to catch you at the slightest misstep.

The Healer guided you both down the hall for a short, careful walk, Severus muttering under his breath with every step, shooting fierce looks at any Healer who dared suggest you keep moving. When you paused, wincing as another contraction hit, he practically growled at the Healer. “If there’s any risk to my wife or our daughters…” He let the threat linger, his face a mask of furious protectiveness.

Finally, you were able to return to the bed, and though the labor continued slowly, Severus remained at your side, holding your hand and murmuring soft reassurances. His fingers trembled slightly as he brushed back your hair, the love and worry in his gaze evident even as he tried to keep his composure.

It was nearly dawn when the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, followed by a cheerful voice that could only belong to Albus Dumbledore. The headmaster entered, his arms laden with trinkets, including tiny stuffed owls, a miniature cauldron, and a set of rattles that jingled softly. He looked as though he had raided the entire children’s section of Diagon Alley.

“Severus, my boy!” he called warmly, his blue eyes twinkling as he approached. “I heard there was a new arrival or two on the way. Ah, and Minerva!” He turned, gesturing as Professor McGonagall entered, a faintly amused smile on her face as she took in Severus’s tense form by your bedside.

Dumbledore began to hand out trinkets, placing the little toys on the table near your bed, each accompanied by a soft hum and a lemon drop he popped into his mouth with relish. “The finest wares from Diagon Alley,” he declared, his tone bright. “Only the best for the future Misses Snape!”

Minerva moved closer to you, her expression softening as she reached for your hand. “How are you holding up, dear?” she asked, her Scottish accent laced with warmth. “Severus here has kept us all quite informed on your progress. I daresay I’ve never seen him in such a state.”

“Nor has anyone else, I assure you,” you replied, managing a tired smile. Severus shot Minerva a look that could have melted cauldrons, though his hand never left yours.

Dumbledore continued to rummage through his collection, holding up a small toy wand that emitted a shower of harmless sparks. “I thought this might suit,” he said with a wink. “We must start their magical education early.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Healers gave the signal. Severus held your hand tightly, his face a mix of awe and terror as the final stage of labor began. You saw a single tear slip down his usually composed face, his grip tightening as he whispered, “You’re incredible. I— I am so proud of you.”

The Healers wheeled you down a quiet, dimly lit corridor, Severus’s tall, shadowy form looming beside you, never letting you out of his sight. His dark eyes, usually hardened and calculating, were softened with a mixture of awe and profound vulnerability as he took in every detail of the room being prepared for the birth of your daughters.

The faint echoes of magical murmurs from the Healers filled the room as they adjusted the equipment and spells needed. Severus moved to your side, his long, slender fingers brushing against your hand with a tentative gentleness. You could feel his nervous energy, the intense worry that he tried so desperately to mask beneath his stoic exterior.

As the contractions intensified, he bent down, his pale, angular face close to yours, his hair falling forward to shield his expression. His deep voice, usually sharp and guarded, softened as he whispered, “I’m here. You’re not alone, amore.”

The Healers instructed him to step back slightly, readying themselves for the delivery. Though he complied, his piercing gaze never left you, as if he were willing every ounce of his strength to help you through this moment.

Moments later, the room filled with a powerful, almost sacred silence as the first cry rang out—a thin, wailing sound that sent a tremor through Severus. One of the Healers approached, cradling a tiny, wriggling form swaddled in soft white fabric, and extended her towards Severus. His expression froze, and for a split second, he seemed almost paralyzed by fear.

The Healer’s voice was gentle. “Would you like to hold your daughter, Professor Snape?”

He nodded, though his hands trembled as he reached out. Carefully, she placed the baby in his arms, her tiny face peeking out from the blanket, her features so delicate and small they seemed otherworldly. Severus looked down at her, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. His usually cold demeanor melted away, replaced by an intense, overwhelming tenderness that softened every line of his face.

“She’s…” His voice faltered, thick with emotion. His eyes glistened, and he swallowed hard, blinking back tears as he took in every detail—the soft curve of her cheeks, her tiny fingers curling into fists, her miniature nose. She was perfect, and in that moment, he realized he would do anything to protect her. He bent his head, his deep voice a reverent whisper. “You’re perfect.”

Just as Severus seemed to settle into the awe of holding his daughter, your voice cut through, strained yet filled with strength as the next contraction began. He looked up, his dark gaze flickering between you and the tiny life cradled in his arms, torn between staying with his newborn daughter and being by your side.

“Severus,” you managed, breathless, a smile breaking through the exhaustion, “go on… be there for her.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a beat, his expression raw with admiration, before he gently passed the baby to a nearby Healer, ensuring she would be safe. He crossed the room quickly, his dark robes sweeping behind him as he returned to your side, his long fingers slipping back into yours. You felt his grip, firm and unyielding, grounding you, as he whispered encouragements, his voice unsteady yet filled with pride.

Minutes later, a second cry filled the room, high and clear, and you saw Severus’s shoulders tremble with relief and elation. One of the Healers brought over the second newborn, a twin as delicate and perfect as her sister, and Severus stared at her, his heart swelling in his chest.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself, his voice choked with a depth of feeling he rarely revealed. He took her into his arms, his slender fingers cradling her small head, his thumb gently tracing her cheek. His usually cold, intimidating face softened into something unrecognizable, a fierce love that lit his dark eyes with an intensity that left you breathless.

As he held her, the first Healer approached, bringing the other twin over to you, her tiny face nestled in the blanket. Your heart filled as you looked down at her, at the small, precious life you had brought into the world. In that moment, the room felt full of magic, not the kind that could be taught or brewed, but the kind that was born out of love, pure and unconditional.

Severus looked over at you, his expression softened beyond recognition, his piercing gaze filled with an almost painful tenderness as he watched you holding your daughter. For once, his stoic mask was gone, replaced by the vulnerability of a man who had finally found something worth living—and dying—for.

“They have your eyes,” you whispered, noting the dark lashes and tiny features, a hint of his unmistakable presence in them already.

He nodded, speechless, his voice catching as he tried to speak. When he finally found his words, they were barely above a whisper, his voice thick with emotion. “They’ll have your spirit… your kindness. And they’ll know they are loved.” His gaze met yours, a profound, unspoken promise shimmering in his eyes.

He reached out, his long fingers gently touching your cheek, and for the first time, you saw the walls he had so carefully built around his heart crumble, replaced by the love he had tried so hard to hide. Here, in this room, with his daughters in his arms and you by his side, Severus Snape had found his redemption. And it was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

[southtopaz]

PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, violence, swearing, mention of death, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts, slowburn.

Word count: +5k

A/n: this part will follow the events of Scream 6 but it will take place two years later from Scream 5. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12.

Iris stared at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting the collar of her makeshift Men in Black costume. The black suit felt too tight, and the sunglasses slipped down her nose. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all. Once upon a time, the idea of going to a party with her friends would have excited her, but now the thought only made her feel uneasy.

She had Tara to thank for her current predicament. For the past two weeks, Tara had relentlessly bugged her about attending the frat party, her enthusiasm almost palpable through every text and conversation. And here Iris was, caught in a swirl of frustration and reluctantance, walking down the street with Tara, who looked radiant in her pirate costume, complete with a white shirt that showed her shoulders, a delicate gold neckclace, and a stylish headscarf. Honestly, she looked way too hot and Iris was having a hard time at pretending like she didn't notice it. She hated to admit it, but for the last thirty minutes, she'd been avoiding looking directly at Tara, fearful that if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop.

"I can't believe you convinced me to come to this stupid party," Iris muttered, trying to suppress a grin at Tara's playful smile.

"I've been told I'm really good at convincing," Tara replied, her voice dripping with mock seriousness.

"I don't think you're that good," Iris shot back, attempting to maintain her irritated facade.

Tara stopped in her tracks, causing Iris to halt beside her. The shorter girl leaned in, a special glint in her eyes. "Don't make me bring the big guys," she teased, her tone low and mischievous, clearly enjoying the moment.

Iris felt the corners of her mouth twitch upward, but she quickly shook her head. "Just don't do that thing," she gestured to Tara's face, her tone a mix of annoyance and fondness. "You know, that thing you do with your eyes."

Tara paused, her expression shifting to mock confusion as she lowered her eyelids and pouted, exaggerating the look to the point of absurdity. "What thing?" she asked, batting her lashes in a way that was almost comical.

"Ugh, I hate you," Iris groaned, unable to suppress her laughter any longer.

"Love you too!" Tara chirped, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

The distant sounds of music pulsated through the trees ahead, a vibrant invitation beckoning them closer. Yet, as they moved forward to the frat house, Iris still felt a nagging uncertainty. She glanced at the dark shadows that lined the path, the branches casting eerie shapes on the ground. Each small rustle made her heart race, and she found herself instinctively leaning closer to Tara, who kept her grounded with an easy confidence.

"Oh, hey, Tara!" called a guy in a Blackmore College jacket. He had black long hair, and a neatly groomed mustache.

"Jason," Tara greeted, her voice brightening. "Are you and Greg gonna come to the okb party?"

"Well, if he finishes his Spanish project in time, yes, we will," Jason said, raising his eyebrows with a hint of optimism. Then he turned his attention to Iris. "Hi, I'm Jason, you must be..."

"I'm Iris" her tone slightly awkward. "Nice to meet you"

Jason gave her a tight lipped smile before looking back at Tara once again, his smile widening. "Is your sister coming?"

"No way! Sam wouldn't be caught dead at a frat party," Tara chuckled, the very idea making her giggle.

Jason shrugged innocently,"There's a first time for everything," he replied, his voice laced with an overconfident nonchalance. Iris shot Jason a wary glance, picking up on a sense of arrogance that made her gut twist.

"Not tonight, though," Tara said firmly, beginning to pull Iris away from the conversation, eager to get to the party.

"Can't convince her?" Jason called after them, his voice teasing.

"No. That's not my problem, that's yours!" Tara shouted back over her shoulder, laughter mingling with the distant music.

"Save me a drink!" Jason's voice faded as they walked further down the sidewalk.

Once they were a safe distance away from the party, Iris turned to Tara, her brow furrowed with curiosity. "So, does Jason know Sam?"

Tara shrugged, her eyes darting back to the thrumming crowd they had just escaped. "Not really."

Iris tilted her head, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. "Don't you think it was a little weird that he was so interested in getting your sister to come to this party?"

"Jesus, Iris," Tara said, exasperated. "Not everyone is out there to get us."

"I know that but he was really strange,".

"It's Jason, for crying out loud! He's just a guy from my film studies class. Of course he's weird!" Tara replied, a playful smirk creeping across her face. "Maybe he has a crush on Sam."

"Yeah, or maybe he's plotting a murder. You know, a typical Friday night," Iris quipped, her tone half-serious, half-teasing.

"Okay, stop." Tara abruptly came to a halt, gripping both of Iris's shoulders with a firm yet gentle hold. "Iris, I know that you and Sam are the presidents of the Paranoid Fan Club, but I brought you here today so you could chill out. You two have been on edge for the past two years. It's time to let it go."

"Okay, rude. I'm not paranoid!" Iris shot back, feigning indignation.

"Yes, you are!" Tara countered, rolling her eyes. "I get it, but you have to start living, too."

"I know," Iris huffed, crossing her arms defiantly. "I'm living just fine, thank you very much."

"Are you, though?" Tara asked softly, her voice dropping to a more serious note. "Can you try to see it from my perspective?"

In a playful act of defiance, Iris crouched down, mimicking Tara's height. "Yeah, I can try," she said, struggling to keep a straight face.

"You are so not funny, you fucker. We were having a moment!" Tara protested, her frustration only half-hearted.

"I can't hear you from way up here," Iris replied, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"I'm going to punch you in the face," Tara said, though a smile threatened to break through her stern demeanor.

"You'll have to tiptoe to get there. It's cute, really," Iris laughed, her spirit lifting.

"Well, I don't have to tiptoe to punch you in the gut" Tara shot back as she smiled sarcastically. "Keep it up and you might find out"

"Love it when you talk dirty to me" Iris grinned, wrapping an arm around Tara's shoulders as they resumed their walk toward the house. The cool evening air was refreshing, and for a moment, the weight of their worries seemed to lighten. If only she had noticed the way Tara's cheeks flushed with warmth at the closeness.

The music thumped through the speakers, reverberating through the crowded frat house, where colorful lights flickered and danced along the walls. A bunch of faces, flushed with excitement and enthusiasm, swayed to the rhythm, their laughter punctuating the air. The scent of spilled drinks and food mingled with the sweet, fruity aroma of mixed cocktails, creating an atmosphere that was both chaotic and exhilarating.

Iris stood near the kitchen counter, where a makeshift bar had been set up. The countertops were cluttered with half-empty bottles, mixers, and stacks of red cups. She took in the scene, people dancing with their costumes on, some attempting to impress one another with their moves, while others lounged on the couches, engrossed in animated conversations. She had to admit, she was having more fun than she originally thought she would.

"So, on a scale of one to ten, how fucked you guys want to get tonight?" Mindy asked  as she lined up four shots on the kitchen counter.

"Hopefully a ten!" Anika exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious as she grinned widely at the group. With that, they raised their glasses in unison and downed their shots, the liquid burning their throats as they swallowed.

Iris gagged dramatically, her face contorting in an exaggerated grimace. "God, that was awful! I'm going to go make a drink. Does anybody want one?" she declared, wiping her mouth and shaking her head in disgust at the harshness of the shot.

"I'll take one!" Tara called out, a grateful smile on her face as she leaned closer to Iris.  As Iris turned to leave, Mindy shouted after her, "When did you become such a pussy? That wasn't even that strong!"

Iris shot her a middle finger over her shoulder, a smirk tugging at her lips despite the faux indignation. "Maybe my taste buds just have standards bitch" she called back, making Mindy snicker as she tried to stifle her laughter.

"Yeah, yeah, you're just weak". After Iris was out of sight, Mindy leaned in conspiratorially. "So, Tara, any hopes for tonight?" she asked, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively while wrapping an arm around Anika.

"Just have fun, I guess," Tara replied, a hint of confusion crossing her face as she tried to understand the underlying implication.

"Not planning to make a move on Iris?" Anika teased, her eyes sparkling with hope.

Tara laughed nervously, the sound a mix of embarrassment and surprise. "Why would I... I don't... I..." she stuttered, her friends bursting into laughter at her flustered state.

"Look, all I'm saying is tonight would be a great night to do it. Ask her to dance!" Mindy encouraged, her voice playful yet earnest.

"Iris hates dancing; she's going to say no," Tara protested, shaking her head as she glanced at the girl, who was now distracted by the antics of a group trying to recreate a viral TikTok dance.

"She would say no to everyone but you," Mindy replied. "She has a soft spot for you."

"No, she doesn't,"

"Yes, she does!" Anika and Mindy chimed in unison, laughter bubbling between them.

"Just test it out," Anika said, her eyes darting toward Iris, who had returned with drinks. "She's coming!"

Iris handed a brightly colored drink to Tara. "Here you go!" she said, a smile breaking across her face.

"Gotta say, Iris," Anika whistled teasingly, "That suit definitely looks good on you. Like, if I didn't have a girlfriend, I'd be jumping you right now."

Iris erupted into laughter, her face lighting up as she turned to Mindy, whose expression was one of mock horror.

"Okay, I think I just threw up!" Mindy faked gag. "You're my girlfriend; you're supposed to say she's ugly!"

"But I would be lying!" Anika countered, unable to hold back her giggles.

"God, I know. Unfortunately, you look good Iris," Mindy added dramatically, tossing her hands up in defeat. "Get out of my sight!" Iris laughed, waving them off playfully.

"What about you, Tara? Do you think Iris look good?" Anika asked intentionally, a spark in her eyes.

"Uh, yeah, definitely," Tara stammered, her eyes widening as the focus shifted to her.

"Now you're just being nice," Iris teased, nudging Tara playfully.

After a bit more lighthearted banter, Mindy and Anika made their excuses to leave, but not before Mindy shot Tara a knowing wink, leaving Tara feeling nothing but anxiety. Once they were alone, Tara turned to Iris, her heart racing. "So, umm, wanna dance?"

"Dance?" Iris snorted, her disbelief evident. "I'm terrible at it. I hate it."

"C'mon, it would be fun!" Tara urged, extending her hand with a hopeful smile.

Iris hesitated, searching Tara's eyes for a moment. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she relented. "Fine." Tara's heart soared at Iris's unexpected agreement, though she hid her surprise well. Maybe Mindy was right after all.

They stepped onto the dance floor, and Tara instinctively reached for Iris's hand.

They started to sway to the music, the soft melodies wrapping around them like a gentle breeze. Iris watched Tara move with an effortless grace, her body swaying fluidly, each motion as natural as breathing. Tara's laughter blended with the music, her eyes sparkling with joy, and Iris felt a rush of admiration with a hint of longing.

Iris tried to mimic Tara's movements, but her attempts felt clumsy and awkward. She felt stupid, her limbs stiff and uncoordinated, each sway a far cry from Tara's elegance. Dancing had never been her strong suit, and tonight was no different.

In a playful moment, Tara twirled Iris around, and they both burst into laughter when Iris stumbled slightly, inadvertently stepping on Tara's foot. The laughter felt infectious, washing away Iris's insecurities, if only for a moment. "I told you I'm terrible at this!" Iris exclaimed, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"I don't care," Tara replied, her voice light and warm. "I just want to dance with you." With that, Iris spun Tara around in return, her heart lifting at the sight of Tara's radiant smile. It was a small victory, yet it filled her with a sense of confidence she hadn't expected.

As they resumed their swaying, Iris couldn't shake the tension in her body. Each attempt to move in sync felt like a losing battle; her nerves made her movements feel rigid and forced. She found herself wiggling awkwardly to the beat, struggling to find a rhythm that felt natural.

"It'd help if you'd loosen up, ya know?" Tara chimed in, her giggle light and encouraging, cutting through the din of the party.

"How?" Iris shot back, a hint of desperation in her voice as she glanced at Tara, hoping for guidance.

"Simple! Just grab my waist," Tara suggested, stepping closer and reaching for Iris's hands. She guided them slowly to her waist, their bodies inches apart, the warmth radiating between them. "Like that," she whispered, her breath brushing against Iris's ear, sending shivers down her spine.

Iris felt her heart race, the world around them fading into a blur as she focused on the closeness, the sensation of Tara's body against hers. There was an intoxicating thrill in that moment, a rush of something deeper than just dancing. Tara's arms slipped around Iris's neck, pulling them even closer, and Iris found herself entranced, her body instinctively moving to follow Tara's lead.

As they swayed together, time seemed to stretch and bend, the music becoming a soundtrack to their connection. Iris couldn't tear her gaze away from Tara's face; the way her eyes lit up with laughter, the curve of her smile, the freckles in her cheeks, it all made Iris feel dizzy with awe. With each subtle movement, the tension began to dissolve, and for the first time, Iris felt the music seep into her bones.

"See? You're doing amazing now," Tara said, her voice warm and encouraging.

"I think it's the teacher, really," Iris teased, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Tara's laughter was like a melody of its own, filling the air around them. Iris felt emboldened, her confidence building as she matched Tara's sway, letting herself get lost in the rhythm.

Tara started playing with Iris's tie, twirling her finger around it absently. She looked up to find Iris staring intently at every part of her face, an expression full of curiosity with something deeper. Feeling a surge of boldness, Tara decided to bridge the gap between them. With a playful tug, she pulled on Iris's tie, drawing their faces closer together.

"If you keep pulling my tie like that, you're going to mess it up," Iris warned, her voice teasing but laced with an unmistakable hint of nervousness.

"Do you want me to stop?" Tara asked, her heart racing. With another gentle tug, she closed the distance further until their noses were almost touching, the air between them charged with anticipation.

"Not really," Iris admitted, her eyes sparkling with desire. In a swift motion, she grabbed Tara's hips, pulling her even closer until their bodies pressed together. The warmth radiating between them made Tara's breath hitch, and she brought her hand to tangle them into Iris's hair.

"You know? Anika was right," Tara said, her voice low, but the words felt heavy in the charged atmosphere.

"About?" Iris's voice barely rose above a whisper as their breaths mingled in the warm air, creating an intimate bubble around them.

"You look really good today." Tara's eyes sparkled with genuine admiration, tracing the contours of Iris's face, from the gentle curve of her cheek to the way her hair framed her features.

"Just good?" Iris raised an eyebrow, a teasing lilt in her tone that sent a thrill through Tara.

"You look hot." The words hung in the air, and Iris's smirk widened, a special glint in her eyes. Tara couldn't help but glance down at Iris's lips for a moment, the urge to close the gap between them almost overwhelming.

"I just..." Tara began, her heart pounding as she searched for the right words, but her thoughts scattered when another voice cut through the moment.

"Iris, no way!" A ginger-haired boy in his twenties called out, his presence sudden and bright. Iris snapped out of her trance, her smile transforming instantly upon recognizing him.

"Damon! What are you doing here?" she exclaimed, her excitement evident as she turned to face him.

"I would never miss a party." He flashed a charming grin before his gaze shifted to Tara, an apologetic expression crossing his features. "Was I interrupting?"

"No, no, don't worry," Iris insisted quickly, a deep blush covering her face. "Mmm, this is my friend Tara."

"Hi, I'm Damon," he said, offering a warm smile that made Tara feel both welcomed and slightly annoyed. "You mind if I steal her for a second?"

Tara tried to hide her disappointment, her throat tight. "Not at all," she managed, though the words felt hollow.

Iris smiled at her, genuine and bright. "I'll see you in a bit, okay? Thanks for the dancing," she said, her eyes lingering on Tara's for a heartbeat longer.

"Yeah, no worries," Tara replied, forcing a tight-lipped smile, her heart sinking a little.

As they turned away, she heard Damon's voice carrying over the music. "I have so many people I want you to meet." They disappeared into the room, laughter and chatter swallowing them up.

Tara stood there, feeling a tightening in her chest that made her uncomfortable. She didn't know who this Damon was, but the ease between him and Iris showed that they were close, she just didn't know how much.

She had the best medicine for heartache, alcohol.

Iris was engaged in an animated conversation with Damon and three of his friends, her laughter ringing out as she gestured enthusiastically, when Anika suddenly burst into the scene, her face showing distress.

"Iris, we need your help like right now!" Anika exclaimed, grabbing Iris's hand and tugging her away before she had a chance to comprehend the situation.

"What's going on?" Iris asked, confusion flickering across her features as she tried to keep pace with Anika's rapid strides.

"It's Tara," Anika replied breathlessly, her voice laced with concern.

They quickened their steps, weaving through the crowd of students until they reached the dimly lit hall. Just as they arrived, Iris's heart sank as she caught sight of Tara ascending the staircase, her laughter echoing softly. Beside her was a tall guy with tousled brown hair, his confident posture and relaxed demeanor suggesting he was much older than Tara, a fact that sent a wave of unease through Iris.

"Hey, Tara, come here!" Iris called out, her voice firm but laced with tension. She clenched her fists, a protective instinct surging within her.

"Sorry, we didn't catch that," the older guy replied, flashing a condescending smile that only deepened Iris's frustration.

"I think you did." Iris spoke as she felt herself growing angrier every second.

"No, Iris. It's fine," Tara said, her voice slightly slurred as she leaned heavily against the railing for support, struggling to maintain her balance. "I'm just gonna get a drink and then I'll be right back." She took a wobbly step down the stairs. "You should go back to what you were doing," she added, attempting to sound casual.

"See, Iris? She wants to," the older guy said mockingly, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he flashed a triumphant grin. He reached out and grabbed Tara by the arm, making her stumble, her footing faltering as she tried to regain her balance. He kept on dragging her back up the stairs aggressively and Iris's anger finally erupted.

"Don't fucking touch her!" Iris yelled as she punched the guy straight in the face, he stumbled backward and lost his footing, crashing to the floor with a heavy thud.

"You bitch" he shouted, holding into his bloody nose as he stood up, but before he could fully regain his composure, Iris was already on him. She lunged forward, her hands gripping the fabric of his white shirt, the material cool and smooth beneath her fingers. Her heart raced, fueled by an urgent need to protect Tara, whose faint shouts urging her to stop barely registered in her mind.

"Please, Iris, don't!" Tara's voice trembled, but it felt distant, almost muffled by the pounding in Iris's ears. She could see Tara's worried expression over her shoulder, but all her focus was on the guy before her.

"Do you think you can just push her around like that?" Iris gritted through her teeth, her voice low and intense.  "You enjoy taking drunk girls to your room, you fucking perv?"

"You're ruining the fun, you could've joined us if you weren't crazy".

"Touch her again, and I fucking kill you" he growled at Iris's threat, punching her with a force that sent her stumbling back. The sudden impact disoriented her for a moment, and she could feel the crowd around them erupt into a frenzy of shouts and gasps. She was pretty sure her lip was busted, but instead of showing any pain, a defiant smile spread across Iris's face, a bold expression that seemed to catch him off guard.

With adrenaline pumping through her veins, Iris lunged forward, her body propelled by anger.She closed the distance between them in an instant, driving him backward into the wall with a forceful thud. He gasped as his back hit the hard surface, his eyes wide with surprise and fury, but Iris was undeterred.

As she held him against the wall, she caught sight of the fear creeping into his eyes, and a small part of her reveled in it. The expression on his face shifted from confusion to pain as she drew her fist back and unleashed it with all her strength, landing a solid punch against his nose. The blow echoed in the air, a sharp crack that punctuated the tension surrounding them.

"You're insane" he shot back, incredulity lacing his voice, which faltered as Iris tightened her grip.

Iris leaned in, her breath barely above a whisper, low and deliberate, ensuring he could hear every word. "You have no idea, lay one hand on her and you'll find out"

Just in time, Chad strode into the room. The moment he spotted the boy making another move on Iris, a protective instinct surged within him. Without hesitation, he positioned himself directly in front of her, his posture radiating defiance.

Chad's jaw clenched as he locked eyes with the boy, who glared back defiantly. In an instant, the confrontation escalated; both men began shoving each other. Tara went to Iris to drag her away from the scene, she was still in shock from what the other girl just did.

Sam burst into the room, her eyes quickly scanned the scene, as she was assessing the turmoil unfolding before her. "Sorry to interrupt. I'm just gonna tase you in the balls real quick." He fell to the ground in pain. "Don't ever lay hands on my sister"

"You fucking bitch! Fuck you". All eyes were on her now.

"Sam! Are you fucking kidding me? You're stalking us now." Tara angrily said as she ran outside.

"Holy shit, it's that psycho girl". a guy yelled, as everyone started taking pictures off Sam, Iris quickly grabbed Sam's hand and both of them stormed out of the house.

They were chasing after Tara, who seemed to be trying to get away from Sam as fast as she could.

"Tara." Sam called after her, "Will you stop?"

"I cannot believe you did that!" Tara hissed. "You embarrassed me!" Then she pointed at Iris. "Don't even get me started on you, what the fuck is wrong with you? You punched him and now you're bleeding".

"I don't care, he deserved it"

"That guy was a dick," Sam defended Iris and herself immediately. "I'm glad Iris was there to stop him, he was going to take advantage of you"

Tara threw her arms up in exasperation, her frustration palpable as it hung in the air like a thick fog.

"So?" she challenged, her tone sharp enough to cut through the tension surrounding them.

"So?" Iris echoed, disbelief etched across her features. "You're drunk, Tara, you can't give consent" Iris felt her jaw tense, the muscles tightening as she fought to suppress the urge to lash out. The heat of the moment clawed at her restraint.

"If I want to hook up with an asshole, that's my decision!" Tara spat, her voice rising with indignation. She glared fiercely at the girls, a defiant fire blazing in her eyes. "That's my decision!"

"Okay," Sam replied, rolling her eyes with an exaggerated sigh.

"No problem," Iris interjected, her tone clipped. "Just do it when you're sober." The suggestion hung in the air, thick with irony.

"It's not about you!" Tara snapped, pivoting to face her sister. Her voice was edged with bitterness. "You're out of my life for five years, and now you can't leave me alone for five minutes!" The words came out like venom, each one a reminder of the distance that had long defined their relationship.

Iris's gaze flicked over her shoulder, noticing that the others Chad, Ethan, Mindy, and Anika had followed them outside, standing at a distance. They looked like deer caught in headlights, uncertain and awkward, the weight of the confrontation palpable.

"Because you're not dealing with what happened to us," Sam interjected bitterly. "Have you even gone to see the counselor yet?" There was a sharpness to her words, a frustration born from unaddressed pain.

"No, I'm not going to—" Tara started, but Sam cut her off.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm uninterested in living in the past like you are," Tara admitted, her voice trembling as if each syllable was a weight pulling her under.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam's brow furrowed, confusion and hurt mixing in her expression as she searched for understanding.

Tara hesitated, her eyes darting, as if she were struggling to articulate the storm brewing inside her. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, as the tension between the sisters persisted.

"Guys, come on," Chad interjected, sensing that the escalating situation was about to reach a boiling point. He stepped forward, his expression earnest as he aimed to diffuse the situation. "Stop arguing." His voice cut through the heated exchange.

"It means I'm not going to let what happened to us for three days define the rest of my life!" Tara shot back, her eyes blazing with defiance. The youngest Carpenter's voice cracked with raw emotion as she continued, "Therapy might work for you and Iris, but I don't need to keep revisiting the past every day."  Now, Iris knew that it was true but she still couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt deep within her. It wasn't her fault she still had trouble adapting to her new reality full of mistrust and pain.

"So you're just going to pretend it never happened?" Sam asked, her tone laced with disbelief after a heavy silence hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

Tara let out a weary sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the world rested upon them. "What are you doing here, Sam? In New York?" she asked, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. "You're working two shitty jobs just to help pay for... whatever. But what's your plan? I know what I'm going to do, okay? I'm going to keep going to college, I'm going to get my degree, and I'm going to live my life. My life. Okay? You just followed me here and won't let me out of your sight." The words poured out with exasperation.

"I'm just trying to look out for you," Sam replied, her expression shifting to one of dejection.

"I know. I know you are," Tara responded, her voice softening as she met Sam's gaze. "But you can't do it for the rest of my life. You have to let me go."

"Hey!" a voice called out, slicing through the tension that filled the night air. Before anyone even got the chance to react, a cold drink was being thrown at Sam, soaking her shirt. She recoiled in shock, her eyes wide as the icy liquid dripped down her skin, sending a jolt of surprise coursing through her.

"Murderer!" The girl shouted, her voice dripping with venom, eyes blazing with accusation. The crowd around them paused, curiosity piqued by the sudden commotion. Iris felt a surge of anger rising within her; she instinctively stepped forward, fists clenching at her sides, ready to confront the girl. But Mindy was quicker, stepping in front of her with a firm hand on her chest.

"Calm down, no more fighting," Mindy urged, her tone laced with urgency. She could see the fire in Iris's eyes and knew that a confrontation would only escalate the situation further.

"What the fuck is wrong with you bitch?" Sam screeched, her voice a mixture of disbelief and fury. She struggled against the hold of her friends, the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she tried to lunge toward the girl, but they held her back firmly.

"You guys should stay away from her," the girl declared, her voice rising above the crowd. She pointed a finger accusatorily at Sam, her expression one of disdain. "She knows what she did."

"I didn't fucking do anything!" Sam shot back, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Step closer if you're so brave bitch!". Iris shouted, her protective instincts kicking in, her heart pounding. Instead of responding, the woman merely flipped Iris off, a smirk on her face as she turned on her heel and continued to walk away.

The air felt thick with unspoken emotions as the group stood in stunned silence, grappling with the unexpected aggression.

"Hey its okay, calm down". Mindy said as they all started to walk back.

Sam, still fuming, turned to Iris, the fury in her eyes mingling with despair. "I'm so sick of this shit"

"I know Sam, I know".

[vodika-vibes]

Hii, I wanna get in on the hurt/ comfort train while it’s here. Could you do one with your choice of “It wasn’t your fault/I’ve got you don’t cry/what did they do to you?” Thinking about how berserk most clones would go if some drunk/dick tried to spike your drink or grab you by the hair or slapped your ass or physically grabbed you and pulled you against them to kiss you or raised a hand to their girl in any way. Only if you’re comfortable with any of that!! But said drunk/dick is cooked because when one of the bros gets into a fight with a natborn they all gotta join in to make them regret ever being born, if their an alpha/spec ops/arc it won’t matter they were ever born because their about to die. Did I mention I’m paranoid yet always putting my foot in my mouth and getting myself into shit?

Time Stands Still

Summary: Colt doesn’t often get the chance to leave Kamino, so when he visits you, you like to make the most of it. But Colt is there to take care of you when a night out goes wrong.

Pairing: ARC Captain Colt x F!Reader

Word Count: 845

Warnings: Reader was drugged at a club

A/N: So, this could probably be better. But I'm tired and anxious, and this is all I have in me right now. Sorry, I hope you don't hate it. And if you do, please don't tell me because I'll probably cry.

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You wake up nauseous.

Horrifically nauseous. Bed enough that you immediately roll off your bed and stumble into the bathroom to empty your stomach.

It doesn’t do much to help your nausea, though. And in fact, now that you’re moving you notice how bad you feel.

It almost feels like a migraine. The nausea, the vomiting, the way that the lights hurt—only there’s no pain to go with it. Maybe you’re sick?

“Cyare?” Colt’s voice comes from the bedroom, there’s something that almost sounds like alarm in his voice, which is weird. Why would he be alarmed?

Ugh, and why is it so hard for you to think?

“Cyare?” Colt appears in the doorway to the bathroom, and the worry clears from his face, “Cyar’ika, why are you on the floor?” His dark eyes flicker around the room, and his gaze softens, “Did you get sick?”

You slowly nod, “Feel awful,” You admit, “Like a migraine without the pain.”

He kneels in front of you and gently pushes some hair off your face, and you tilt your head back to look up at his face. There’s a strange expression twisting his face. Like grief…and guilt.

His hand moves, and you notice that his knuckles are split. You gently catch his wrist and turn his hand so you can examine his hand, “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing, love. Just some split knuckles.”

“Let me find the first aid kit—” You shift to stand, but the nausea has you crumpling in on yourself again.

“Don’t worry about me, love. I’m fine.” His lips twist, and then, slowly, he brushes his fingers against your cheek, “Love, my beautiful, perfect cyare. What do you remember about last night?”

“Last night?”

You cast your memory back, to try and remember the night before. But it’s all blank. Well, sort of.

You remember going to the bar with Colt and meeting up with some friends, and some of his brothers. And that’s it.

You don’t remember.

Why don’t you remember?

What happened to you?

You don’t realize that you’re starting to hyperventilate until you feel Colt’s hands, warm and strong and steady, on your shoulders. “Cyare, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

You cast wide, panicked eyes up at your boyfriend, “What happened? Why can’t I remember?”

His hands slowly move to cup your cheeks, to smooth across the top of your head, and then drag down your spine. You feel the tension, and panic, draining from your body the longer he just touches you.

Colt’s dark eyes remain on your face, steady and unwavering, “You were drugged, love.”

“What?” The word leaves you with all of the breath in your lungs. But, you had been surrounded by friends, by people you trust, people who you know would look after you, who who have looked out for you before.

“Your friend, the twi’lek? The red one? He slipped drugs in your drink, and then tried to get you to leave with him.” Colt’s voice is as gentle as his touch, and yet his words make you want to cry.

Antian is your friend. You’ve known him since you were in diapers.

“I…I don’t…did he—?” You can’t finish your question, the words like lead on your tongue.

“He didn’t touch you.” Colt’s voice is so firm, that your gaze, which had been locked on his chest, snaps up to meet his. “As soon as I realized what happened, I got you away from him.”

You remember his split and bruised knuckles, and slowly you reach up to touch his jaw, “Is he…alive?”

Colt’s steady gaze doesn’t waver, “Does it matter?”

The answer is written plain as day on his face, and your lower lip wobbles, “I’m so sorry.” You whisper.

“No. It wasn’t your fault.” Colt’s steely gaze softens when he sees your distress, “He made a choice and he suffered the consequences.” His fingers lightly.

“But, if I hadn’t trusted him—”

“He was your friend. You’ve known him for years,” gently, Colt helps you off the floor, “Of course you trusted him. It’s not a bad thing, to trust the people around you.” He guides you back into the bedroom and helps you lay back in bed.

“Why do I feel so bad?”

“He gave you an overdose,” Colt explains quietly, as he kneels next to you, “I’m not going to lie, love. Today’s going to suck. But I’m going to take care of you. One my my brothers is on his way over with some medicine to make today a bit easier though.”

“...okay.” You take his hand and press it against your cheek, rubbing against it, “And you’re not mad at me?”

“Never.” Colt leans in and kisses your forehead, “Get some rest love, I’ll be in the next room. Try to drink some water?”

“I can do that.”

“Good girl,” He kisses your forehead one more time, “I love you.”

And, finally, the tiniest smile lifts the corners of your lips, “Love you too. Thank you. For saving me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for protecting you. It’s my job.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

@cdblake1565

@sweater-sloot

@heidnspeak

@wax-birds

@silly-starfish

@lonewolflupe

@maniacalbooper

@rebell-ious

[nottsdarling]

Delusion

Summary; Finding out that your boyfriend of 3 months has been lying and pretending about his feelings the whole relationship. 

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

: Liar!bf Mattheo x reader

: word count ; 696

: cw; cheating, lying, manipulation

: a/n! this is a two part fic, so stay tuned for part 2 my angels

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Stepping out from behind your boyfriend, Mattheo, you immediately sensed this was a mistake. As if choreographed, heads turned, eyes following you with a silent intensity that was almost suffocating. Every one of his friends fixated their gaze on you, the weight of their attention pinning you in place. It felt like the entire room was collectively holding its breath, waiting to see what you would do. Beside you, Mattheo chuckled, breaking the silence in his usual carefree manner.

“So, uh… this is my girlfriend, guys,”

He announced, his voice tinged with a hint of discomfort. Another forced chuckle escaped him, and, without another word, he stepped away, leaving you standing alone amidst the judging eyes. He didn’t offer you a seat or even invite you to join him. The awkwardness crept over you like a cold shiver. You felt as though the room was closing in, each stare a reminder of your isolation in this unfamiliar crowd. Your instincts screamed at you to leave, to escape the humiliation pressing down on you.

You scanned the room, searching for any familiar or friendly face, and your eyes landed on Draco. He sighed audibly, his gaze casting a shadow of disapproval. The moment stretched uncomfortably as you wondered what Mattheo had whispered to him earlier to warrant that reaction. Desperate to escape, you made an attempt to quietly slip away. But just as you turned, Mattheo’s voice sliced through the tension.

“Where you off to? Not leaving us now, are you?”

He teased, a slight edge to his tone. Instantly, everyone’s eyes shifted back to you, intensifying the feeling of exposure. Your face flushed as you stammered.

“I- uh… just to the bathroom.”

Laughter rippled through the group, low whispers and snide comments about your appearance reaching your ears. Mattheo’s expression shifted into something almost disdainful as he pointed vaguely in the direction of the bathroom. Without another word, you hurried away, your heart pounding. Locking yourself in the bathroom, you leaned against the door, trying to steady your breaths as you took in your reflection in the mirror. Under the harsh light, every flaw seemed magnified. You tugged at your hair and picked at your skin, struggling with the image staring back at you. The doubts gnawed at you, but a flicker of anger stirred within. Mattheo’s dismissive treatment and his friends’ mockery felt like a slap in the face. Resolving to stand up for yourself, you took a deep breath, squared your shoulders, and stepped out of the bathroom. As you approached the common room, voices drifted to you, stopping you in your tracks. Your name was mentioned, and you listened, heart sinking with each word.

“You guys are so mean toward Y/N!”

Mattheo’s voice rang out, casual yet mocking.

“You’re not any better, Mattheo… the poor girl actually thinks you like her,”

Blaise sneered, his voice growing louder, matched by the others’ laughter. Mattheo laughed along, brushing it off.

“Well, I can’t break up with her… she’s clingy. I’d feel bad.”

Stunned, you felt the floor tilt under you as you processed his words. You took a shaky step forward, feeling the betrayal sink deeper with each breath. Mattheo’s next words twisted the knife further.

“I’ll just get into an argument and make her break up with me. Easy.”

At this, the room fell into an awkward hush. Mattheo frowned, noticing the sudden silence, and looked around, his eyes landing on Draco’s shocked expression. Following Draco’s gaze, he turned and saw you standing there, trembling with hurt and fury.

“Y/N…”

He breathed, eyes widening in surprise. You shook your head, fighting back tears. Without a word, you stepped forward and slapped him across the cheek, the sound echoing in the quiet room. His friends sat frozen, unsure whether to look at you or the reddening mark on Mattheo’s face. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turned and walked out, not looking back. As you left, you heard Mattheo mutter,

“Shit…”

But you didn’t pause. The hallway outside the common room felt colder, lonelier, but for the first time that night, you felt in control, finally stepping away from someone who didn’t deserve you.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Reblogs, follows etc are appreciated!!

Please do not repost my work onto other platforms without credit and permission.

Have a wonderful day and/or night my angels, mwahh!!

[koyagifs]

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓮 𝓘𝓷 𝓐 𝓑���𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 「 II 」

๋࣭⭑ pairing: wooyoung x reader ๋࣭⭑ au: non idol! | strangers to lovers | slow burn ๋࣭⭑ genre: fluff | crack | angst ๋࣭⭑ summary: Being gifted what was supposed to be a gag joke, turns out to be the real deal. An actual genie in a bottle, ready to serve her new master.

Everyone stood still, the woman now stretching her limbs, a yawn escaping her as she took her in scenery. 8 gorgeous looking men, but one catching her eye. Mischief sparkled in her eyes as she did a bow, a dramatic one at that.

“ now, who had the pleasure of rubbing my bottle?” The young woman spoke, looking at each blushing male.

Hongjoong let out a cough, catching the woman attention. “ That would be Wooyoung. There’s no way you’re actually a genie..”

The young woman eyes sparkled with delight as she nodded her head eagerly. “ of course i am! What, did you think i threw a smoke bomb in here and just POOF crawled out the floor?”

Snickers came from Yunho and Mingi, trying their best to ignore the harsh stare from Hongjoong. “ well, no but-“

“ ah, i didn’t even introduce myself. My name is yn ln. Who exactly is Wooyoung?” yn asked, looking around curiously.

Everyone pointed to Wooyoung, who gulped nervously as yn eagerly walked over to him and shook his hand. "I am now your genie, master Wooyoung!"

"Genie... master?" he stammered, still trying to wrap his head around the entire situation.

Yn nodded, “ Correct! Now there are rules before you begin your wishes.”

Wooyoung blinked, still in shock as Yn flashed him a dazzling smile, almost like she’d been waiting ages for this moment. The others leaned in, intrigued.

“Rules?” Wooyoung managed to ask, his mind racing with possibilities. He glanced nervously at Hongjoong, who was still eyeing the scene with disbelief.

Wooyoung nodded his head, his friends in awe that he hasn’t muttered a word. Yn smiled at him sweetly, enjoying the moment. Snapping her fingers, a piece of paper appeared beside her, as well as a pair of moon crescent shape glasses on her face.

“ you can’t wish to bring back the dead. I can’t make someone fall in love with you. I cannot and will not bring ill harm to someone or something. You can’t wish for immortality. Last but not least, you cannot wish for my freedom. Any question Master?”

Hongjoong was the first to speak out of the other boys, " so not the cliche, " you get 3 wishes " genie?"

Yn nodded her head, " I am a different kind of genie. I serve one master per their lifetime, although it feels like forever since my last master."

“ why can’t Wooyoung wish for your freedom?” San asked, curiously.

The mood shifted as yn didn’t face him, “ i’m sorry but that’s something only my master may ask.”

Yeosang pinched San, as if scolding him for asking such question. A whine escaping his lips as Wooyoung finally got his senses together.

“ oh Minyoung is going to have a field trip with your genie,” Seonghwa chuckled.

Wooyoung faced dropped as he realized his girlfriend is going to be coming home here shortly. As if on que, the door began to jiggle causing yn to panic as Wooyoung was quick to hold the bottle up.

" quick you gotta hide please. She'll freak the fuck out if she knew another girl was here."

With a snap of her fingers and a poof of smoke, the genie was gone.

As the smoke cleared, Wooyoung’s was quick to place the bottle back down to the coffee table. The boys trying their best to act natural as they know how crazy Wooyoung girlfriend can be.

“Hey! What’s going on in here?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she took in the scene—the remnants of the green smoke and the boys odd behavior.

“Nothing!” Wooyoung said quickly, his eyes lighting up as he tried to brush off the moment.

She hummed before she noticed the now rusted bottle. She made a disgusted face as she pulled her sleeve down. Grabbing it she looked at Wooyoung. " ew, Woo what did i say about bringing such disgusting things into the apartment."

Jongho tsk, mumbling under his breath as she continued to complain to Wooyoung. Wooyoung demenour changed rather quickly, a fake smile now placed on his face.

" love it's a gift from -"

" ugh please don't tell me it's from your parents? They suck if they actually did."

Wooyoung’s smile faltered as his girlfriend’s expression soured. He knew how much she disliked his parents’ gifts, especially when they were odd or tacky. “No, it’s not from my parents!” he quickly corrected, his tone defensive. “It’s a joke gift from Yunho and Mingi.”

Her brow furrowed deeper as she examined the bottle more closely, the rust now glinting in the light. “A joke gift? Seriously? This thing looks like it belongs in a junkyard! You’ve got to be kidding me.” She held it out like it was a piece of trash, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

" actually i thought it was pretty cool," Wooyoung mumbled.

She rolled her eyes, placing the bottle down before she turned to him. " sorry im late though. Work held me a little bit longer then expected."

Wooyoung’s expression softened at her apology. “It’s okay! I was just hanging out with the guys ,” he gestured vaguely at his friends, hoping to diffuse the tension.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I just don’t want you bringing home weird stuff. I mean, you already have enough strange things in this place.” Her eyes darted around the apartment, taking in the scattered memorabilia and odd knickknacks Wooyoung had collected over time.

“Hey, those are vintage! They’re not weird; they’re character!” Wooyoung defended, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. “Besides, it’s what makes this place feel like home.”

“Right,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

[heresthestorymorningglory]

Saturday Night Stunts

Summary: Shhh

A/N: You guys know the drill; NSFW 18+ because here, we like it spicy ;)

It’s another drabble that was living rent free in my brain so I figured I'd share. Might make a little mini series out of these...I've got a few regulars living rent free up there too; the Luke Glanton x reader one I did awhile back can be found here

As always, my darling soul sister, @ken-dom, thank you for the beta read and endless support and reassurance! Although…I still think you’re biased. 🩷

Enjoy my loves!

You stood at the counter, Colt's arm heavy around your shoulder. 

Taking your drink off the counter you let him turn and steer you towards the theatre. 

The young girl scanning tickets looked fresh out of high school; her eyes deliberately dragging over Colt’s broad chest as he held the ticket stubs out to her between his fingers. 

“Enjoy your movie” she smiled at Colt, paying you absolutely no attention. 

You snatched the stubs back and glared at her. “Thank you”

She sneered at you as you walked around her, Colt snickered, his arm still draped around you. 

“Shut up” you snapped, sensing his smirk. 

“You're sexy when you're jealous” he whispered, leaning next to your ear as you reached the bottom of the stairs. 

You scoffed rolling your eyes. You started to climb the stairs and he made no secret of his hand coming down hard on your ass before he squeezed hard. 

“Colt, Jesus!” You gasped; your cheeks flushing a deep crimson as you made eye contact with a guy sitting a couple rows up. 

His hand slipped around your waist briefly before you led him down your row of seats. 

He sat next to you, his arm slipping around the back of your chair, bag of popcorn resting in his lap. 

You shifted in your seat and again Colt laughed next to you. 

“What's the matter babe?”

You shook your head “Nothing” 

“Usually you like being spanked” he muttered

“Not in public” you grit your teeth as the room went dark. 

He just chuckled darkly before drinking from his cup. “Ass cheek tingling still?”

You glared into the darkness as the screen flickered to life, your closed fist making contact with his junk. He let out a grunt lurching forward. 

“Jackass”

He let out a slow breath straightening in his seat “So yeah…” he cleared his throat. 

***

You both sat watching the screen, every so often between handfuls of popcorn Colt would lean next to your ear and whisper something about the stunt that had just happened or how he had done one similar or how you could have done the stunt better. 

After twenty minutes of Colt's breath hot against your ear, you turned in your seat and grabbed a fistful of his dirty blond hair, crushing your mouth against his; you had lost interest in the movie about fifteen minutes ago and even if you hadn’t with Colt’s constant whispering in your ear you wouldn’t have been able to focus anyway…. 

Colt immediately let out a low moan against your mouth, his hand finding the back of your head, pulling you closer. 

God, he was so needy and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love every second. 

His kisses always made your head swim, and this was no different; everything else melted away and your senses were overwhelmed with Colt. 

His hand was heavy against the back of your neck as his free hand moved the popcorn out of the way of being toppled over. 

Your hand immediately disappeared down the front of his faded jeans, the hand he didn’t have clamped firmly on the back of your neck, slipping up under the thin fabric of your t-shirt before you came screeching back to reality. 

You pried your lips from his, panting heavily against his neck before shaking your head “W-we can’t…” you whispered letting out a pathetic cry as his mouth latched on to your neck, licking and sucking hard.

Twisting in your seat only giving Colt an unintentional advantage as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to keep your composure as your fingers slid up through his hair at the back of his head; fingernails scraping against his scalp, making him moan none too quietly against your neck, making you weak. 

Your head lulled back against the seat you were sat in as Colt leaned over you with absolutely no regard that you were in the middle of a movie theatre, his mouth devouring yours; the straining hard on in his jeans even more prominent than before, even in the darkness. 

Colt’s back was now turned completely towards the screen; he couldn’t have played it off like he’d been watching the whole time even if he had wanted to. You felt the button come open on your jeans before his hand pushed inside. He stopped abruptly when he realized you only had jeans on. His eyes flickered to yours briefly and all you could do was mirror the smirk on his face. 

Your legs fell open wider as your hips jerked against his hand, his finger slipping with ease between your slick folds; both of you moaning in unison. He practically straddled your seat, one hand braced on the arm rest to keep himself from crushing you as he nearly knelt on the floor, his fingers never stopped moving; coated in your arousal before he slid his middle finger inside you with ease. 

Biting down hard on your lip to keep yourself from moaning louder, his hand moved at a steady rhythm as he bent to lean next to your ear. 

“Do it” his breathing was heavy and ragged; desperate. The finger he had buried inside you moving faster, as you struggled to keep yourself in check….although that had probably flown out the window by now….

You shook your head “Colt…N-nno” 

He knew you would, he knew you were close; his cock throbbed painfully against the confines of his jeans, but this wasn’t about him; this was about you. 

“Please?” he whimpered next to your ear and your stomach clenched with need; at the same second, Colt’s finger curled inside you, hitting the most delicious spot. He was quick to slap his hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, catching his weight on his knee against your seat between your legs. 

You moaned shamelessly against his palm as he fucked you with his finger; his breath still hot against your neck “That’s it” he cooed as he kissed along your jaw before you collapsed into your chair and his hand dropped from your mouth. 

You shuddered, catching your breath, turning your head to look at him. He had settled himself back in his seat like nothing had happened. 

Had your jeans not still been open and that delicious tingle between your legs, you would have second guessed it yourself. 

You slid your hand under the arm rest, your fingers gliding over his thigh reaching to pull his jeans open; your fingers teased over his happy trail before disappearing behind his zipper. 

His cock twitched against your fingers as you wrapped them around his throbbing shaft. He moaned softly as you leaned next to his ear

“My turn…” you teased, stroking him faster. 

He was already slick in your palm, leaking steadily from the tip. 

Colt leaned his head back, turning to look at you. You learned forward kissing him, your hand moving steadily as he moaned against your lips. Colt's hips bucked into your hand, his work boots squeaked against the floor as his foot slipped. 

You pulled back with a chuckle against his ear. “Shhh, you'll give us away”

That earned you a scoff, followed by a low growl deep in the back of his throat. 

“Come for me” you whispered against the shell of his ear. 

You mirrored his actions, slipping your hand over his mouth, his beard scratching against your palm before his eyes slipped closed and he moaned long and loud against your hand. 

Stroking him faster you nipped at his earlobe “Let go” you whispered and immediately your hand was coated in his warm thick release as he breathed hard through his nose. 

“Good boy” you smiled, dropping the hand you had over his mouth against his chest. His heart was beating hard against your fingertips. 

He didn't answer, just winked at you, leaning to gently kiss your cheek holding a handful of napkins between his fingers with a smirk. 

You glared, taking them from him and wiping his release from your hand and dropping them at your feet as he tucked himself back in his jeans before his arm slid around your back pulling you against him. 

You leaned against his shoulder, reaching to thread your fingers with his. 

He leaned next to your ear making you shiver. “Just wait until we get home”

You whimpered with a shudder as he nuzzled against your neck nipping playfully at your skin. 

[anthenasikes]

summertime ☀️ !!!

[hella1975]

the closest ill ever get to being a pick me girl is the joy that fills me when the chefs at work so clearly favouritise me. like im there nicely cleaned up in my smart-casual uniform just a 20 year old waitress smiling my customer service smile and behind me spawns Scary Dog Privilege 10x in the form of several burly middle-aged chefs at least three of which have criminal records and would all stick a bread knife in someone for bothering me

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Things To Think About For Characters (Clara Clawthorne [My Wittewife] 🧡 🤎 🧹 💟)

Commission artworks are here, here, and here.

• Do they have allergies? (Nope. She's happy to have no allergies to anything, especially nature, as she loves it so much.)

• What foods will they not touch? (Sour or spicy foods. They're bad for her tongue. Also, yuck. Her words btw. Oh, and rotten foods, for obvious reasons.)

• What kind of music do they like? (Medieval / Bardcore pop music! Those music genres were really popular during her time. Examples are here and here.)

• How are they around new people? (Very friendly and outgoing! Clara loves meeting new people!)

• Do they speak in an accent? (She has a cute American accent! Very upbeat and bubbly and a little high pitched! She sounds like a M/y L/ittle Pon/y character lol. Speaking of m/lp, here's her voice. I ❤️ T/ara S/trong.)

• Have they tried learning a new language? (Not really, but she would be delighted to learn if given the chance! If she did, she would have a really tough time at first with the new language, but she would get the hang of it over time.)

• How many languages do they know? (Only one, and it's English.)

• What is a song that will always make them cry? (This one. Tears of joy btw lol.)

• How do they cry? heaving? silently? sobbing? (All three, but it really depends on the situation.)

• How do they dress? for practicality or fashion? (I'll say practical since Clara wears pretty practical clothing.)

• What is the first thing they notice about a stranger? (Their smile! [if they're smiling.] If not, then their face and demeanor.)

• What is their humour like? (Silly, goofy, and random lol.)

• do they have scars? what caused them? (She has zero scars.)

• do they wear jewelry? (During her shore trips, she wears the jewelries she discovers and advertises them at her knick knack stand at the town marketplace.)

• are they a frivolous spender or a miser? (FRIVOLOUS SPENDER. SHE LOVES TO SHOP, SHOP, SHOP! You could say she's "a bit" of a shopaholic lol.)

• do they prefer luxury or practicality? (Luxury can be nice and does have its perks, but she prefers practicality.)

• Who would they quote? (Tay/lor Swi/ft I think. 99% of her quotes are positive. This one would be her fav lol.)

• what could make them change their mind? (Puppy dog eyes or treating her to something sweet lol. If you want a more serious answer, I say having a respectful conversation and finding common ground with her.)

• Who is the first person they'd call? (Scrolls weren't a thing back then, but if they were, I'd say her her ma / mother.)

• how are they around animals? do they have pets? (Clara exhibits kindness and love towards animals, and she has a blue jay palisman named Syrup as a pet.)

• What is their favourite childhood food? (Fairy fresh fairy bread lol. It's a very whimsical treat [it's sliced white bread slathered in butter and sprinkled with fairy dust] that Little Clara loved! She still loves it even as an adult.)

• what is something they've never told anyone? (Spoiler for "A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human".😭)

• childhood friends? (She had some! Can't go too into detail about them though cuz spoiler for "A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human".😭)

• what are habits they've picked up from other people? (Thanks to Caleb, Clara has become accustomed to carrying a carving knife with her.)

• what are their guilty pleasures? (I don't think she has any. If Clara likes something, she likes it and it doesn't cause her guilt. <3)

• what is something they're staunchly against? (The witch hunts that Caleb talked about that the humans in his realm engage in are definitely something she opposes.)

• do they speak a certain way? do they use contractions? popular turns of phrase? (She speaks normally. Also, she would use the popular phrases of her time.)

• can they fall in love? what does it look like? does it differ between people -- friends vs family? (Yes for the first question! She fantasizes about finding her one true love, so it's possible for her to fall in love and be in love lol. But the other stuff I can't answer cuz spoiler for "A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human".😭)

• what would they rather die than do? (Spoiler for "A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human".😭)

• what is their biggest mistake? one that they look out to never do again. (Spoiler for "A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human".😭)

Sorry to end on a 'sorry spoiler' text, but yeah. 😅

Anyways,

tagging @princessrainbowpastel (her oc is on @persephoneflowerpetals), @queenspinoodle, @elusive---ivory, @nightsoulvixen (her oc is on @rizzocloverrpcorner), and @azure-blaze92 (he / they have an oc here)

The tag is also open to anyone who wants to do this, and you don't have to answer these questions with an oc if you don't want to (you can use a canon character as well). 💖 💗 💕

[vulpixelates]

the monday blues are getting me especially hard after a four day weekend of being curled up in bed and playing pretend with my wife 😔😔

daydreaming about the lesbians in our heads SAVE ME

[gideonisms]

Okay as with everything else in my life I can definitely solve this one by committee

[florida3exclamationpoints]

.