#I am. So so so sorry for how long this took
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When your medic leaves to go pocket another man or something
#god I’m sorry the quality is so SHOT I could not figure how to fix it- you must take him as is 😔#tf2#team fortress 2#tf2 heavy#high effort shitpost once again#I had this idea for forever but was too scared to open up Vegas after so long#it only took me a few hours it turns out#most of it spent trying to trouble shoot things ugh#I am not meant for the editing world 😔#they don’t love you like I love you#wait 🖐️#they don’t love you like I I love youuuuuu#heavymedic#kinda- implied
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Giving up
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Coaxing your neighbor into having sex with you although he's unsure since he's much, much older than you
Warnings: big ass unspecified age-gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie Smut| unprotected piv, crempie, insicure!joel, sub!joel, also my man has trouble lasting cause he's not done this in a very long time.
a/n:i needed to write some cheesy romantic stuff, and maybe it doesn't really make all that sense in this story and maybe i cried while writing this cause no one is ever gonna love me like this but so what bitch leave me alone (i also am i lil tipsy as i proofread this, so ignore any mistakes pls)
Part 1
"did you do something to your hair?"
Tommy was standing on Joel's doorstep, looking at him as if he were an alien.
"I washed 'em" he grumbled, "what do you want?"
His brother couldn't help but huff out a laugh
"someone's in a good mood today"
"I've gotta be somewhere, just tell me what you want"
Tommy's interest was only piqued more.
there stood his brother, his clothes perfectly clean- maybe even ironed- his hair... styled, his beard trimmed...
something was definitely going on.
"Where are you going?"
Joel rolled his eyes now, shooting his little brother a death glare
"none of your business"
Oh he knew what was going on...
"Who is she?"
"Tommy-"
"Is it Jessica? I bet 's Jessica, she's always flirting with you you ol' dog-"
Joel swore he was gonna punch him- he was already running late because of how long he took to pick his clothes- finding a flannel that wasn't completely worn out turned out to be real fucking hard.
He felt stupid for how much effort he'd put into getting ready, he felt stupid for how anxious he was, but most of all... he wanted his brother to go away.
"There ain't no one, Tommy- now, if there ain't anything you need, please go-"
But just then- just when he was finally going to get rid of him, your sweet, soft voice made its way to his ears.
"Hi Joel! Hi Tommy!" You smiled from your porch, waving your hand at him and his brother "You didn't forget about today, did you Joel?"
What in the actual fuck?
Tommy did a double-check, looking between you and his brother, and when he finally confirmed that it was actually him you were talking to, you whom he'd gotten all dolled up for, he couldn't do anything but let out a slow, long breath.
"No I didn't- I'll be there in a minute, darlin'!" Joel was answering you as his brother regained his ability to speak
"well... Fuck. Me" he was in awe, his voice barely a murmur
"it ain't like that" Joel was quick to intervene "'m just fix-"
"'m sure it ain't" Tommy let out a chuckle, his hand going to pat his brother's back "You fucking lucky bastard"
"Tommy I know she's young bu-"
"shut up man" he laughed "Just go have fun, you asshole"
__ __
"Sorry 'm late, Tommy was just-"
You smiled at his words, shaking your head
"It's ok, Joel" you cooed as you let him in,
He gave you a soft little smile, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
Joel Miller didn't smile just at anyone.
"water?" you asked, leading him to the kitchen.
"Uhm- sure"
His heart was damn near beating out of his chest already- for no fucking reason at all.
Well except the obvious one... you'd sucked his dick and he'd eaten you out three days ago- and you'd made it clear you wanted more.
Jesus Christ, he felt like a fourteen-year-old with his first crush.
You watched him as he sipped on the glass.
"So?" a soft smirk was caged between your teeth "Did you think about it?"
He damn near choked.
Which didn't make any sense, he was expecting this, he already knew you'd ask.
He cleared his throat, diverting his eyes from you "I-I have"
"And?"
You'd gotten closer, your expectant eyes studying every inch of his face
pleasepleasepleaseplease say yes
"Did- didn't you have something that needed fixing?"
Oh for fuck's sake
"joel" you called for him in what almost sounded like a plead.
"darlin' just... lemme fix your cabinet first"
This man was gonna be the goddamn death of you.
"ok"
__ __ __
As it turns out, in many different ways.
Who knew watching him fix something would turn out to be so fucking hot?
He'd rolled his shirt up so that his strong forearms and a glimpse of his beautiful bite-worthy biceps were showing, his hands moved so very expertly that they couldn't help but bring back memories of what those same fingers had done to you just a few days ago, and his face... he looked so hot when he was all in his head, concentrated only on the task before him-
or so you thought.
"You're gonna stare at me the whole time?"
A soft laugh escaped your lips
"don't mind me- just enjoying the view"
He huffed out a laugh as he went back to work, but you couldn't help but notice the fact he pushed his sleeves ever further up his arms, giving you more of a view of his delectable skin.
What a tease
__ __ __
"there we go" he said after some time, opening and closing the cabinet one final time to make sure "all done"
For the record, this time you hadn't even done it on purpose, the cabinet had actually broken. It was like fate was sending you a message.
You awakened from your daydreams as he stood up to his full height, and hopped off the stool you were sitting on to walk closer to him, noticing some dampness in your panties while doing so...
It wasn't your fault... he was the one looking way too hot doing such a simple task.
"thank you" You smiled up at him, your hands going to his chest,
He held his breath for a moment
"'s nothing babygirl"
"yeah? then... you think you could check my bedroom too?" you were biting your lip in a way that made your question take on a whole different meaning "to make sure nothing needs fixing y'know?"
"In your... bedroom?"
"yes, Joel- please" you added, with your best innocent doe eyes.
Which of course made him fold in a matter of seconds.
You'd taken on a different tactic. It was obvious at this point that the man was too shy and too unsure to give you an answer (or the one you wanted to hear anyway), which is why you needed to present him with the actual possibility right in front of him.
And yeah maybe it was manipulative, but fuck it if you didn't wanna feel the man inside of you.
The flashbacks of what he did to you on that bed filled his mind the moment he stepped into the room.
He needed to get a grip or he wouldn't be able to hide his growing bulge in a minute.
"Everything seems right"
"yeah? 'm not sure about the bed" you hummed, desperately hoping he would just go along with it "it makes a weird sound when I get on it"
He turned to you then, his eyes locking with yours for an infinite second.
"try" you said finally, nodding to the bed.
He watched you for a moment longer before, surprising you, he did it- he sat on the bed.
The mattress creaked underneath his weight, and you made quick work of strolling closer to him as he pressed his palms on the bed, checking for the inexistent "weird sound"
"it don't look like there's anythin' wron-" he looked up the moment your hands found his shoulders "Whatcha doin'? sweethear-"
You were sat on his lap before he could even finish the sentence.
"Joel" you spoke his name softly, as if it were a caress, your hands slowly moving up and down from his shoulders to his pecs, as you finally scooted closer to him so your core was right against the hardness in his jeans-
He inhaled sharply, his fingers curling on the bed.
"would you like to have sex with me or not?"
You accentuated your words with a slow roll of your hips, grinding onto him and making a soft groan build inside his throat
"this- this ain't really fair sugar"
A smirk pulled at your lips as you lowered your head to whisper in his ear "I never said I didn't play dirty, Mr. Miller"
Your right hand trailed lower, moving down his belly so slowly that Joel thought he might just lose his mind.
"You're y-young baby-"
Your hand had found his crotch, the outline of his dick fitting in your hand oh so perfectly.
"we've gone over this already Joel, I'm old enough" you purred, your lips leaving a peck just below his ear "old enough to do many many things"
He cursed under his breath
"I just... I don't understand"
A breathy laugh escaped you
"there's not much to understand really" you murmured "You're hot, and I like you, and I wanna get in your pants"
That earned you a chuckle
"and you're sure you won't regret this?" he asked, "you sure this is what you really want- that- that you don't want to give a boy your age a chance instead of me?"
You smiled as you looked up at him,
you'd never met a man so sweet
"Joel, I promise you I'm sure" you whispered "I promise you this is what I want, you are what I want"
Fucking damn it
How could he ever say no after that?
With those gentle eyes of yours looking at him, with your hand right over his cock...
"So?"
He was gonna think about the consequences tomorrow. Now- now there was only you.
"yes"
That single word sounded better than any song you'd ever heard.
yes
Your lips were on his before he could even think of changing his mind- and god did they feel like a dream.
His soft stubble grazed against your cheeks and upper lip, as you deepened the kiss, as he opened up to you, closing his eyes only after he'd taken you in, only after he could admire all that was happening to him for some godforsaken reason.
A growl rumbled from his chest when your core found his dick again, grinding onto it in a way, that combined with the way your tongue was tasting every inch of him, was making him see stars.
He didn't think he'd kissed like this in 30 years,
making out seemed like such a distant thing from him, he was much too old to do something like this, and yet... everything about you made him feel like a teenager all over again, so perhaps it was fitting-
and god he had forgotten how amazing it felt.
You started undoing his flannen, not even dreaming of breaking the kiss, and once you opened his shirt up, once his big strong chest was right there before you, you just had to look at it.
You leaned away, his lips chasing yours making you smile as your gaze lowered.
Jesus, he was the hottest man you'd ever seen.
Some hair and freckles adorned his pecs, his little belly was ever so cutely fighting against his jeans- his skin was soft beneath your palms as they explored every inch they could reach.
He was looking at you, watching your blow-out eyes, wondering what potion you'd drank to be this mesmerized by what he had to offer.
You smiled once you caught him, leaning closer to leave a quick kiss on his lips.
"take off your clothes"
You got off of him, and once he saw you get rid of your shirt, your boobs pushed together by a simple black bra that somehow, at the moment, seemed like the sexiest thing in the world, he rushed to follow suit, nearly tripping getting off his pants.
The moment he looked at you again, the world- the universe, it all went quiet.
You stood naked before him, a soft, perfect little thing, looking like a damn dream.
"babygirl" he could only breathe as you reached him again.
"What?" you laughed
"I-I don't even know"
You shook your head, grinning from ear to ear as he pressed his mouth on yours again.
He was already addicted.
In a haze, you found yourself on the bed, your body caged beneath his, his tongue fighting with yours, his hands all over- You almost had the urge to laugh at how desperate he seemed, how frantically he was touching every inch of you, exploring every piece of skin-
His hands were on your tits, fingers gently playing with your nipples, then on your belly, your waist, your ass, your thighs, until finally, he found your core, but before he had the time to fully reach it you'd switched up with him, straddling his lap as he laid flat on his back... only he couldn't keep away for even a second and he immediately sat up, grabbing your waist.
He couldn't even begin to complain that you'd already grabbed his cock, positioning it at your entrance.
You couldn't wait anymore- you needed him now.
"Wait-" he murmured, his breathing labored already "you sure you're... y'know ready?"
Oh my god, you swore you were gonna fall for him if he kept this shit up.
"Joel" you smiled, looking into his big brown eyes "I've been wet since you fixed the cabinet"
"I-" he blushed "You-you sure?"
You didn't answer him, you simply took one of his hands in yours and guided him to feel just how much you were telling the truth.
"Fuck"
"yeah" you smirked "that's just what you do to me, Mr. Miller"
Jesus fuck
Joel didn't think his cock had ever been so hard.
You didn't give him time to do or say anything- he'd gathered that's how you did things by now- as you slowly, oh so very slowly, started sinking onto him.
He was big, the kind of big you'd be feeling tomorrow morning. The stretch hurt just right, so overwhelmed by the unadulterated pleasure that it was barely there.
Soft little moaned gasps spilled from your lips with every inch added, your eyes were closed, only focusing on the extraordinary feeling as your nails clawed at Joel's chest.
Until, finally- you'd done it. You were fully sat on his cock, and while your eyelids fluttered open, you regained your ability to hear- to hear the curses leaving Joel's mouth between ragged breaths
"Jesus Christ- Jesus fucking Christ- Goddamnit"
His grip on your waist was so tight you were sure it was gonna leave a bruise... not that you were complaining.
"you ok?"
His eyes were shut close and creases of effort filled his forehead, while his chest went up and down as he desperately tried to breathe.
"Joel?"
He swallowed tightly, now breathing in through his nose before exhaling from his mouth.
"d-don't move"
You smiled as you promised "I won't"
God this was fucking embarrassing.
He'd spent three days training.
And yes he wasn't sure he would have said yes, but still, better safe than sorry- except for the fact it clearly hadn't worked.
He had spent three days fucking his own fist and trying to last as much as possible and he did do progress... but this... this was fucking nothing like what he'd felt in the last twenty years.
He was so fucked
"I-I'm sorry" he gritted out, sounding almost defeated "I- I haven't done this in a long time darlin'"
"And you... you feel so fuckin' good- fuck"
Your walls had inadvertently squeezed around him at his words, making a groan rumble in his chest.
"You have nothing to apologize for Joel"
he would have told you that your voice was making everything worse if he weren't so preoccupied with trying to calm his dick down.
"take all the time you need"
And so he did, his eyes remained closed as he breathed through the initial shock, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, he was back.
He had to stifle a moan once he opened his eyes back up.
There you were, your beautiful eyes trained on his with such gentleness and care that it made where his gaze fell to feel even more sinful.
Your boobs were barely touching his chest, and yet they could have been in his face for the effect they had on him- his hands were on your waist, holding onto your soft flesh, your thighs were straddling his lap, giving him no choice but to finally look between your bodies, where you two connected.
"Darlin'" he murmured, hypnotized
You smiled, watching him admiring you in silence
"You look..."
Every word that came to mind wasn't enough, you were otherwordly, you were perfection... so he just settled on the simplest, and perhaps truest of them all.
"you're beautiful"
Your cheeks burned with heat as his gaze came back to yours.
"so are you, Joel"
And that was that.
His lips found yours again, and you couldn't stop your hips as they started moving, rocking back and forth and bringing little waves of ecstasy to your core.
A desperate moan spilled from yours to Joel's mouth as he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you into an even deeper kiss as he started following your movements.
Your hands went to the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair at the nape of it as you finally started bouncing on his dick, and god- god it was even better than you could have ever imagined
The loudest growl sounded from his throat as you worked yourself up and down on his shaft.
He was in another universe, his actions were only reflexes as the hand not tangled in your hair found your tits and then your ass, grabbing at it with tenderness and need.
"Oh Joel" you cried, his dick filling you up better than anything ever before.
You could quite literally feel him in your stomach, every little vein and ridge of skin creating a permanent dent inside of you that only he was ever gonna be able to fill.
"sweetheart- fuck" he groaned on his own, your breaths mixing as you ghosted each other's mouths, his eyes raking over your body and face, while yours couldn't help but roll to the back of your head as his manhood hit a particularly good spot.
"You feel so- good Joel" you whimpered mindlessly, now quickening your pace, desperation taking over you completely.
the sound of him entering your drenched core mixed with the bed creaking underneath you as you drove yourself closer and closer to heaven.
The sound of his name falling from your lips was something that filled Joel's chest with an indescribable feeling, he felt on top of the word, and at the same time... at the same time he wished it had never left your mouth because it was now forever imprinted in his brain, and he knew nothing was ever gonna compare to it.
Oh and also- also it was making his little lasting problem real fucking hard to control.
But he was nothing if not a gentleman,
You were gonna come, he wasn't gonna have it any other way.
His hand lowered down your belly as you kept chasing your release, looking like a damn glimpse of paradise, until his thumb found your clit.
"Oh fuck" you moaned, your eyes snapping open to look at him- a dark glaze of lust shading your iris.
Joel realized too late that he hadn't taken into account how fucking tight you'd get, and was now really paying the consequences.
Plus when you looked at him like that... maybe just this one time he could not be a gentleman- I mean it's not like he had much choice, he was trying his hardest but- shit
"darlin'" he mumbled, his thumb circling your bud "w-where do ya- where do ya want it?"
You moaned louder just at the thought of him coming
"Inside"
It wasn't even a question
"N-no sweetheart I-I shouldn-"
"Joel" you interrupted him, your lips grazing his as you talked, your grip on his hair tightening "I want you to fill me up until I can feel you leaking out of me for days"
Good Christ and heaven
"Fuck me" he cursed, all his strength going on not coming right there and then "Darlin' please- tell me you're close"
You were already seeing stars as he spoke
"I'm close, baby- oh fuck" you cried "Joel!"
A tsunami of lust-filled pleasure coursed through your veins as your orgasm hit like a damn truck.
You couldn't even remember your name as you screamed his own into the thick air, as you moaned and cried and spasmed around him, feeling him do exactly what you'd asked- filling you up to the very brim.
He'd started coming the moment you did- he couldn't do anything about it, it was just unadulterated perfection-
His head fell between your neck and shoulders as groaned like a man possessed,
until finally, after a good three minutes, you were both back to the land of the living.
He looked twenty years younger when he looked at you again, and you- you looked like the most beautiful woman on earth.
A soft smile pulled at your lips, and you couldn't help but ask "How long before we can do it again?"
And fuck him, but his age didn't matter, with those eyes of yours, it might very well be minutes.
@kluvspedro @bluebiyou @casssiopeia @bean-is-reading @millerispunk @i-cant-stfu
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#sub!Joel#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#sub joel miller#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#smut#joel miller angst#fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo
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Ok, it was basically a request where the batboys brought their significant other as their date to a gala for the first time, they leave for a second (to get drinks or go to the bathroom or something to that end) and when they come back the see their S/O being harassed by a group of socialite women that keep talking about how they can’t believe someone like the batboy is with such a plain little nobody. That was the gist of it. Sorry 😣
I kinda made Tim’s as bit different than requested, but I couldn’t help but see him grill an entire household and their business ventures. Then again I kinda took creative liberties with all of them.
Dick
Is the type to put on an extremely strained smile across his face as he puts his arm over your shoulders.
‘What’s wrong my love, why the saddened face?’ He asks you sweetly, intentionally ignoring the rich and powerful in front of you both.
‘Oh don’t worry yourself with…that thing dear Richard, they’re too emotional to be in a room with people they could only dream of being in the presence of. I wouldn’t get so close to it if I were you, you might catch their filth.’ One of them sneered and Dick’s jaw tensed in agitation as his eyes remained on you.
‘Do you wanna leave?’ He says in a whisper as he wipes a tear away from your cheek, lightly pinching it in hopes of seeing you smile at him.
‘Yes please, I want to go home and be with Hayley.’ You whispered back, griping his arms tightly, thankful that his body blocked out the rich people that were berating you. Dick’s face softened as he kissed the top of your head, hoping of giving you some form of comfort in your time of distress, before looking back at the rich people with a faux grin.
‘If you please excuse us, my lovely sweetheart, my beloved cutie and my forever lover wishes to leave this drab place and who am I to deny my love of her wishes, for I shall wait on them hand and for forever if it pleases them so because between you and me?’ He then leans close to them. ‘You don’t have the heart to sacrifice everything for the one you love, if you even have hearts in the first place. You posses no freedom and no personality whatsoever for anyone to love nor adore, them however?’ He points towards you as you look at him with a small smile, a smile so sweet that Dick couldn’t help but smile back.
‘They are my everything. I couldn’t think about living without them, not when they’ve don’t nothing but be kind and respectful of me and my time. I don’t deserve them but neither does this city, they’re an angel in human skin that I wish to worship as long as they’ll let me.’ You could feel your cheeks burn at his words as your smiles widened at the twinkle of love within his gorgeous eyes. Dick had a way with words unlike any other and despite being on the receiving end of them for a while now, you still find yourself becoming alight with emotions because of him.
‘So if you’ll excuse me kindly.’ Dick says as he takes your hand and walks you both out of the door where he stops to look at you with concern.
‘I am so sorry you had to deal with them, apparently money makes someone feel entitled to speaking on someone else’s relationship.’ Dick spat as he glared at the grand double doors and you touched his cheek, making him melt into your touch, kissing your palm.
‘It’s okay Dickie bird, let’s just forget this night and go home, get out of these clothes and into some comfy pyjamas and cuddle on the couch as we watch soaps.’ You say as you attempt to calm him down from his passionate outburst and declaration of love, which seems to work as Dick’s eyes twinkled with excitement.
‘Can we wear the matching pyjamas that I got us and Hayley?’ He asks and you couldn’t help but kiss his lip, finding him too adorable in this moment in time, which is something of a occurrence as you’d soon find as you reflect back on your relationship. ‘Of course my sweetie, of course we can wear matching pyjamas.’ You replied and Dick cheered as he leaned to kiss you fully on the lip, his happiness having been contagious as you smiled into the kiss.
Damian
Wishes Bruce didn’t confiscate the sword from him.
He’s the type who can silence anyone with a single fucking glare. So when he sees that you, his beloved, was being harassed by the elitist snobs.
He’s quick to step in and start berating them himself, all dignity and respect has gone out the window for these cretins don’t deserve an ounce of it as far as he was aware. ‘I don’t believe that my relationships are your concern,’ he begins, ‘you’re not kin and thus should’ve learned at an early age that not every topic of interest requires your out of touch input.’
‘Wha-‘ they tried to say but Damian was back on them with another verbal assault.
‘Also I could hear you from across the room, didn’t your parents or paid teacher teach you about volume control? or did they get paid extra to not say a thing in fear your fragile little ego gets crushed under the harsh truth?’ Damian then spits out as he feels you clinging onto his back, which only fuels his need to berate these vile people as karma.
Damian would be their karma if it was the last thing he did.
The rich people chocked on air, not knowing what to say as it was hard to do so when Damian was staring them down, wanting them to say something, anything so that he could verbally beat them down until they submit. He lives for a verbal spat but unfortunately the people whom he’s up against have never had to fight for their honour and dignity, they just paid people to shut up or have people who encourage their pathetic, self entitled behaviour.
‘Enough, don’t hurt yourself trying to think with whatever’s behind those pompous eyes of yours.’ Damian sneered as he looks to you with a soft look. ‘Let’s go my beloved, I have already informed my father of the situation and has Alfred come pick us up to take us back to the manor.’ He says softly as he takes your hand in his as you both began walking away form the group of gobsmacked rich folks, a sight to behold truly as those entitled Individuals love nothing more then the sound of their own voice.
‘Why’d you do that?’ You asked and Damian looked at you as though you grew a second head.
‘Do what? Defend your honour, is that not what a lover is meant to do?’ He says with a raised brow and you couldn’t help but feel a little silly, of course Damian would defend your honour to the death but still insecurities tend to make you forget his undying loyalty.
‘You’re right I’m sorry, I’m just being a little stupid.’ You replied as you downcast your eyes to the floor and Damian stopped to lift your head up by your chin as his emerald eyes glint with concern. ‘Do not heed their words my treasure, for they lack a love that isn’t in due to money. Ours is genuine, if there’s anyone who has to fear for our relationship it is me for I am not the easiest to deal with at times.’ Damian admits as he lets go of your chin.
‘That’s not true.’ You retorted, holding his cheek in your free hand, caressing his cheek. ‘You’re perfect the way you are! A work in progress in being even more beautiful than before and I’m happy to be by your side and watch you grow into an amazing person dami.’ You add as you kiss his cheek, making him smile softly as he rubs against your hand.
‘See, this is what I’m talking about.’ Damian says softly. ‘You are perfection, a being beyond words and I’d be a fool if I didn’t treasure you entirely.’
Jason
That’s it, you’re leaving.
Jason tried to be civil but it’s hard to be civil with out of touch, tone deaf, Botox having, plastic surgery abusing, elite snobs that couldn’t fucking lace their own shoes because their filthy money had that be someone else’s job.
He’s not fucking staying and neither are you to deal with verbal abuse by people who single handedly have run Gotham into the ground with their shady tactics, personally funding the corrupt police officers, police officers that dare spout words like ‘protect and serve’ as though they know the meaning of the fucking word.
He’s marching over to you and grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers together as he’s walking you both out of the room, leaving the elites to talk amongst themselves as he guided you outside where thankfully no elite snob can eavesdrop on either of you.
‘Are you okay?’ He asks you as he holds your face between his hands.
‘No… I want to go home.’ You admitted, their words cutting deeper than you’d ever think imaginable.
Jason felt anger flowing through his veins but he knew that you needed him more then ever at this moment, so shouting at some elite snobs can wait for another day, you were his highest priority as he brought you into his chest and kissing your head. ‘Then we’re going home.’ He says with certainty.
‘What about Bruce?’ You asked, looking at him with tearful eyes, not wanting their relationship to fracture just as it was slowly starting to mend.
Jason shrugged, uncaring of what the old man would think, you got insulted and he wasn’t going to let it slide in the slightest. ‘Fuck Bruce, you’re what matters to me.’ Jason says as he kisses your nose, cheeks and lips softly before resting his head against yours. ‘Now let’s ditch this place and go get ourselves some burgers, how does that sound chipmunk?’
You chuckled. ‘Can we get some fries too.’
‘Of course we can, whatever my sweetheart desires.’ Jason replies as he takes your hand again, this time leading you both out of the grand building in a quest to satiate your feelings with the most greasiest of foods.
Tim
Has the most dirt on the elite in my eyes.
Every scandal, every controversy, every crime they’ve committed and gotten away with by covering it up. He has a file as thick as a book on them and he’s not afraid to use it.
And needless to say that the idea to destroy their reputation was more then tempting then ever when he sees that your being harassed. So when he confronts them on their behaviour, he gets really cryptic about how much he actually knows about these people to such an intimate level.
‘I know what you did.’ He’d say.
‘What are you on about?’ They’d ask, thinking this was all a bit to make them laugh.
‘Friday 12th, 12:55am. The incident that cost workers their lives, families whom of which you’ve failed to compensate for who are now threatening to take you to court before you dealt with them in hush money. All just so it doesn’t leak to the press that you knew what you were dealing with was highly unstable and willingly let those workers in unstable and dangerous working conditions.m Tim watches as their faces drop, preparation visible on their foreheads and he continues on, feeling you squeeze his arm.
‘Only to end up illegally selling the product to unground crime syndicates to make ends meet in due to how much money you’ve initially lost.’ Tim then says in response, watched as their faces become unsettlingly pale as they excuse themselves while exiting the room.
He’ll say or this or just say ‘they are after what they’re owed.’ And leave it at that.
Once he’s satisfied that he’s silenced them and damaged their egos, he looks to you with concerned eyes. ‘Are you okay lovely?’ He asks you as he sees just how small you’ve made yourself because of them.
‘I’m fine Tim thanks to you.’ You said as you hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek as he pats your back before rubbing it soothingly. ‘ I thought they wouldn’t shut up, or follow me whether I went just to degrade me for walking or whether else they could degrade me for.’ You add as you burrowed your head into his neck, wanting to forget this had ever happened.
‘All you need to remember is that they’re more flawed and easier to expose, you however,’ Tim kisses your temple, tightening his hold, ‘are more then they could ever comprehend and have more heart and soul then they do and I couldn’t be prouder to be your partner. Thank you for choosing me.’ He finished.
‘I’d choose you every time Tim.’ You replied.
‘Then expect me to do the same bedside there’s no one else I’d rather have them you.’ Tim promised as you stayed in this embrace for a good while before deciding to leave and watch your favourite show on his laptop for comfort.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc comics x reader#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd imagines#jason todd x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#tim drake x you#tim drake imagines#tim drake x reader#tim drake imagine
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Entry 11: The One About the Heart of the Ocean
My father is a big history buff. He fancies himself a bit of an expert about the U.S. Civil War, U.S. Presidents, and World War II. In fact, he’s gifted me with the Useless Knowledge of which four U.S. Presidents were assassinated while in office (Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, and Kennedy – you’re welcome for that little addition to your own Library of Useless Knowledge).
But, more importantly, my dad has instilled in me the importance of a timeline. The idea that, if you’re collecting information, it’s vital to keep it in chronological order, that way you can look at it, (try to) understand it, and theorize about what happened before and after an event. If the facts are out of order, the conclusion you reach may be in error.
My father and I also like to solve True Crime together. When he visits, we spend hours on the porch studying some random, usually cold, true crime event. We timeline the shit out of it, connect the puzzle pieces together, and exclaim in the end, “We’ve solved it!” I suppose that is part of what keeps me interested in Lukola – not that there is anything criminal in Lukola, except perhaps the “Single White Female” that pops up behind Nicola from time to time – I just enjoy the game of trying to put the pieces together.
Lukola has become a rather intriguing puzzle, don’t you think? It’s definitely one to which I do not have all the pieces. I do, however, enjoy collecting the information and chronologizing it, and now I find it enjoyable to scribble my thoughts out on Tumblr.
So, how did I get here?
Well, it started with boredom and ended with a timeline.
My first entry to the timeline?
July 20, 2024.
What happened on that date?
Well, nothing spectacular really, except JVN posted –
HOLD UP!
HOLD THE FUCK UP!!
OH SHIT!!
YES!
YES, you guessed it! After blowing JVN off for at least three, maybe four, posts in a row, I’m finally getting around to dedicating an entire entry to Their Royal Highness.
JVN is such a fascinating creature. I mean, you get beautiful, witty, and intelligent wrapped into one human being. Oh, and they are kind of a catty bitch, too, and who doesn’t love one of those? That’s why they're the Heart of the Ocean on the USS Lukola; they just give off this very rare blue diamond vibe. Well, that, and because something they did marks the focal point – the heart – from which the rest of my timeline branches.
*I will cut in here to note that I am referring to JVN as they/their in this entry as their Instagram bio indicates they accept “they/he/she.”
Okay, back to July 20.
On that date, JVN posted to TikTok their version of the Charli xcx “Apple” dance. You know that annoying TikTok trend that took over our summer? Yeah, that’s the one – the same one Antonia tried doing – she just couldn’t pull off the JVN version of it. Dear girl couldn’t come close to matching JVN’s “enthusiasm,” and JVN’s version was only made more enjoyable in that they were seemingly mocking Antonia!
But, all’s fair in love and war, right?
JVN’s bestie, Nicola, had already spent the entire summer subtlety combating Antonia over social media. The vibe in the fandom was that Antonia was always trying to one-up Nicola, with Nicola always coming out the victor. I’m sorry, Antonia, you just can’t beat some perfectly timed BTS drops.
So, why did JVN’s TikTok post intrigue me? It wasn’t because it was that amusing. It was because they’d done something I hadn’t noticed before – they’d taunted Antonia on a public forum.
Curious, that.
Now, I’m not saying it was the first time JVN mocked Antonia, but July 20 was the first time I noticed it. That date is the heart of my timeline, but it does not have to be the heart of yours. We can all start at different times but still reach the same conclusions, so long as we keep the information in order.
You would think one wouldn’t mess with the “girl friend” of your best friend’s “best friend,” at least not publicly. But, here was JVN shamelessly mocking Antonia on TikTok. And, just so we’re clear, the public opinion of what JVN was doing with this TikTok is available to view in the comments of their TikTok post. It wasn’t just me that came to this conclusion – and JVN has left these comments up for four months at this point.
JVN’s “Apple” dance was only made more interesting the following day – July 21 – when they included it in their Sunday Dump post on Instagram.
And, Nicola liked it.
Hmm, things were becoming curiouser and curiouser.
Let’s not even pretend that Nicola isn’t street savvy and didn’t understand the context of that video. And, let’s definitely not underestimate the length of her claws.
To be honest, I hadn’t paid too much attention to Lukola since mid-June. It was an “it is what it is” thing for me. Even though I believed the relationship between Luke and Nicola was complicated (see my first blog for that story), Luke had also apparently disappeared into the summertime sun with his friend group, which included Antonia.
Something about JVN openly making fun of Antonia, and Nicola, at the very least acknowledging it with an Instagram like, made me realize something in Luke’s situation must be shifting.
What have I said about little changes? That deviations in modus operandi are what make people start giving the side-eye to a situation.
And, side-eye I did!
I started paying attention to JVN and, on July 25, they posted a series of photos on TikTok and Instagram showcasing “What I would wear if you invited me to your…” We will fast-forward through all the slides until we get to the last one, which read, “…just got dumped and going to take 8 shots dinner at Lupe’s in SoHo.” Was it possible that JVN was hinting at a dumpster fire at the Soho Farmhouse?
If you don’t know what the Soho Farmhouse is, it’s the place where Luke and his friend group, including Antonia, frequented, probably on Luke’s dime (*insert wicked laugh – oh, and a disclaimer that this is all speculation).
Funny that Nicola liked this post on Instagram, too, and it wasn’t even buried in a Sunday Dump.
At this point, JVN had really sparked my damn interest. Like, dear one, what are you hinting at?
On July 29, Deux Moi creeped out from under its rock and reminded the fandom to hate Luke by rehashing Papsmear. Thank you, we needed that. I mean, half of us almost forgot how much we hated him! That’s me being a sarcastic tart, by the way. If we were to fast-forward to today, I’d argue that Luke was the most darling thing to come out of Bridgerton.
Any ways, again, thank you, Deux Moi, for those suspiciously timed Papsmear pictures because they aligned perfectly with the pap pictures People dropped the following day – July 30.
Yep, I am talking about those strangely awkward pap pictures of Luke hanging out in the murky waters of Sorrento with Antonia. Oh, and let’s not forget the video footage of that encounter, which I am sure still upsets and confuses people to this day. In fact, I know it does because, as I was researching this, I had a couple of people get annoyed after I asked them to view it. Funny thing is, that shit never bothered me (I didn’t say that it didn’t later confuse me!). The first time I saw them, I was like, “Luke is not into that girl at all,” and my next thought was, “I wonder how old these pictures are because I would have sworn JVN was hinting at something.”
Now, this story wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t address the rumor portion of it.
First rumor? That Antonia set up the entire Italy pap photo-op because she seemingly knew where to find the cameraman. So, let’s discuss that video everyone seems to hate to acknowledge exists. In the video, you can see Antonia maybe looking in the direction of the cameraman. She then leans into Luke, either to whisper something to him or to reach for something behind him. In my opinion – and this is strictly my opinion – it looks like she’s pretending to reach for something over his shoulder. Still shots of this interaction are the photos People published, presumably because Luke and Antonia looked like they were cheek to cheek.
Okay, notice I said, “first rumor,” because, yeah, there’s a second rumor, too! But, it fits snuggly into that first rumor. Almost immediately – because that’s how fast the Lukola Sleuths get to work around here – rumors began to circulate that Antonia was following on Instagram the photographer that took the Italy pap pictures. In fact, several people I’ve spoken to swear that they witnessed during a TikTok Live a host prove that Antonia was following this photographer. That’s a bit suspicious, isn’t it? Yeah, it fucking is.
Let’s keep moving.
That same day, we had that video drop of Luke watching fireworks, at night, with sunglasses. Speaking of sunglasses, I guess Luke found those motherfuckers because he sure as shit didn’t have them while floating around in that dirty ass water. Any ways, at the end of the video, Rory appears behind Luke, looking in the direction of the camera and smiling like a condescending, sneaky little shit. Now, who was the cameraman? Well, a possible suspect would be Antonia since she was not seen in the video. Go figure.
Alright, so that day finally ended and on July 31, JVN posted to TikTok a cutesy video of themself at the market titled, “When you catch someone trying to sneak a pic but you were born for these moments.” They prance around the market and randomly look at the cameraman (Mark) with a smile and a pose. The caption reads, “I welcome sneaky pics but I can’t guarantee I won’t sneak some back or put on a show for you.”
WAIT A MINUTE!
Did JVN just inexplicably confirm Luke was getting papped by his own friends?
Yeah, I kind of think JVN did.
And, Nicola liked this one as well when JVN posted it to Instagram on August 8.
Didn’t I tell you JVN was a fascinating creature? And, to be honest, JVN only gets better as this Lukola ship continues on its voyage.
Oh, strangely enough, a few days after the Italy pap crap, Luke returned to London alone. The friend group became unsettlingly silent, and Nicola started to get really, really loud – Chaos Week was incoming! And, so were some more JVN crumbs (and nicely timed clap backs).
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helllooo ! (first ask ever, actually, go me lol) I am requesting with your Winter Games :
🐻 here to hibernate - “oh god, did i fall asleep on you?!” from the sleepy list :)
with Regulus x reader? or Regulus x James if you’re looking for an actual ship like that :3
ily and I hope you’re doing well !! mwah
first ask ever, go you INDEED! thanks for the prompt, and for being here with me! <3
Regulus Black x Potter!reader who he falls asleep on [627 words]
CW: fem!reader, pranking, siblings, brief mention of Black family causing anxiety, fluff
Regulus had, admittedly, not been sleeping all that well leading up to the winter holidays.
For better or for worse, Sirius had convinced him to rip the plaster off and join him at the Potter’s, if not permanently, then at least for the Christmas break.
First, he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of having to potentially return home for the holidays, then he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of having to find some excuse that his parents would find believable to remain at school over the holidays, then he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of how his parents might react to the news of him attending the Potter’s for the holidays, then he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of having not gotten a response from them at all (the devil you know, and all that).
And finally, he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of now having to celebrate the holidays with the Potter’s. Pointedly, perhaps, with you.
So when he startled awake to the sound of the train compartment door closing - catching the tail end of his brother and his friends disappearing down the train’s corridors - to find himself having fallen asleep on your shoulder of all places, he was more than a little bit mortified.
“Oh Merlin, did I fall asleep on you!?” He asked as he slid to the very opposite side of the bench to put some clearly well needed space between the two of you.
“Just a little, it’s alright.” You offered with a shrug as you refused to look up from the book in your hand, though Regulus noted you take the opportunity to reposition to a more comfortable spot now that you wouldn’t risk waking him up.
“M’so sorry.” He mumbled into his hands as he tried to wipe the residual lethargy from his face; an anxious, crackling energy bubbling from his chest to his fingertips. “I’ve not been sleeping well; this is so embarrassing.”
“It’s not embarrassing,” you chuckled kindly, “you’re obviously tired, we’ve got a long train ride, might as well sleep, yeah?”
You smiled gently, perhaps even shyly at him, before turning your face back to your book, though you didn’t appear to actually be reading it.
“Where’d our brother’s go?” He asked after a few beats of silence; you looked up then, as if only now realising the compartment was empty.
“Oh, erm. I think they wanted to pull one last prank of the year; wanted to go out with a-”
But the end of your sentence was cut off by a loud bang that shook the seats beneath you two, followed by some groaning, shrieking, and cackling.
You and Regulus shared a soft, breathy snicker of your own.
“You didn’t feel like joining them?” He queried, quite certain he wasn’t mistaken when he noticed you flush.
“Erm, no; I was quite alright here.”
Your brother’s came crashing into the compartment then with Remus and Peter on their heels; breathless, laughing, and covered in a small dusting of red and green glitter.
“That was a good one, Trouble.” Sirius proclaimed as he took a sloppy seat across from you. “Can’t believe you opted to sit here like Reggie’s personal glorified pillow instead of seeing it through.”
“Don’t tease her.” Remus chided quietly; likely quiet enough that you hadn’t heard, but Regulus had.
“So,” Regulus drawled then, sharing a conspiratorial look with you. “I have this to look forward to all break?”
Sirius scoffed in offence. “You should be so lucky, baby brother.”
“Don’t worry,” you murmured quietly, “leaves us plenty of time to make them pay.”
Regulus couldn’t help but wonder if - just maybe - holiday’s at the Potter’s wouldn’t be so bad.
#elle's hibernating#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#regulus black#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#potter!reader#regulus black fic#regulus black ficlet#regulus black blurb#regulus black drabble#regulus black imagine#regulus black fluff#ellecdc fics
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Hi I love your fics and was hoping you’d like this request:)) I was thinking a fic with James x fem!reader where she’s a slytherin but not in the stereotypical way that James and the marauders typically see them as. She’s not cold hearted or prejudice, rather quite friendly and very artsy. I was thinking an enemies to lovers where James just generalizes her with the slytherin she doesn’t like so he’s not the kindest to her, but maybe she gets paired up for an assignment with Remus so James ends up having to be around her a bit and realizes she doesn’t suck lol. Think he would definitely have to work for her affection after fumbling the ball so hard but im a sucker for a happy ending!
I hope this sounds like something you’d enjoy writing, if not that’s totally ok too❤️
Masterpiece
James Potter x Slytherin!Reader
Summary: (see above) James Potter goes a little too far with a girl everyone happens to like.
AN: I am so sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it <3
CW: not proof read, use of {Y/N}, Jealous and Stupid James, sexual implied ending, Protective salty Remus, self indulgent, cursing, very slight angst, fem reader, not cannon complacent, sexual innuendo,
WC: ~9k
The sky was overcast and the wind was blowing rapidly, causing your sleeves to billow as the very stool you perched on teetered from side to side. You grabbed the seat and tried to steady your perch, holding up your paint brush away from your portrait as the creamy white shade dripped down on your bare legs.
Dressed in casual clothes, your paint stained denim short overalls and a striped shirt that hid evidence of handprint smears from your absentminded messes. Sleeves rolled up to show your speckled skin already decorated with splotches of white and browns, fresh hazy grays that resembled the foggy ground of Hogwarts and its students.
“{Y/N} {L/N}?” A voice so calm and careful called out from behind you. You turned and smiled on instinct, your eyes landing on the tall figure. He was also in more casual clothes, a brown cable knit sweater vest over a simple white button down shirt. He was holding up a piece of paper to his eyes before he put it in his pocket. Smiling so kindly, where the corners of his eyes crinkled and his scarred lip curled up to reveal perfectly uneven teeth.
Ballet white.
“Remus Lupin?” You called out to him and he chuckled, taking a few long steps to stand beside you.
“You were meant to wait for me, you know.” He teased and slipped his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah, I know, I know. But this was the perfect time for it.” You lifted your hands to gesture to the sky and he looked around to try and find what exactly made this 'perfect.’
“How’d you even manage to get in here?” He quizzed and took a seat on the railing. Looking around at the castle grounds from the top of RavenClaw’s tower, you got the perfect view of the astronomy tower, what you were currently painting.
“There wasn't much convincing involved. Barty Crouch walked me up here.” You smirked and he looked bewildered.
“You know Crouch?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Remus furrowed his brow as he tried to piece together how he hadn't heard of you before. Seeing as he was meant to be escorting you two and from each Hogwarts house for your own personal study, it seemed unlikely he wouldn't of known of you, getting this particular form of special treatment from the headmaster himself.
Remus walked around you and took a peak at what you were painting. The air so familiar, and comforting, both of you had forgotten you had just met.
“What are you painting?”
“Magical paintings.” You hummed and he furrowed his brow further.
“Don't you usually need a subject?”
“Traditionally.” You muttered and gestured for him to sit down. He listened almost instantly, sitting down on the floor next to you, laying his crutch across his lap. After a moment of pause you shrugged and set your paint aside, shifting to sit beside him on the floor, making him chuckle.
“Do you know how they work?”
“Not a clue.” He shifted to sit and face you fully. Both of you crossed your legs, like tots ready to swap unearthing secrets in the school yard.
“Well. What you're thinking of is magical portraits. The art of bringing the life of the subject to the painting.” You declared almost breathless. “But that's amature work.”
He gave a delighted and startled laugh at your bold declaration, but it didn't impede you.
“The true magic is being able to bring life that isn't visible to the naked eye, to visual art forms.” You declared and gestured to your painting. Remus’s eyes flickered up and widened a bit. You gave an excitable bright smile as you both watched the misty fog in your painting shift, the faint stars in the background twinkle against the backdrop, and even the few faint sketches of students within the distant tower moving about.
“Woah.” He whispered and you nodded eagerly.
“Isn't it inspiring?”
“It is.” He agreed instantly before he looked back at you. “But, doesn't it typically take magic from the subject for it to work effectively? How does this work?”
“Well, don't you think Hogwarts is possibly the most magical place in the world?” You argued and he chuckled at how easily you brushed off the question.
Of course, no one truly knew how it worked. Not that the creator of the art method ever documented his findings. The only clear part of it was not everyone had the knack for it. You were lucky, since you were young, to be able to produce the art even before you got your magic.
You turned to Remus, who was watching with rapt attention.
“Do you want to try?” You offered, a mischievous smile taking over your features that looked startlingly familiar to Remus.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Me? Paint?”
“Why not? You might find you have a hidden talent!” You encouraged, handing him a brush and a palette.
Reluctantly, he took the brush, glancing at the canvas as if it were a daunting task. Exaggerative hesitation to defile such a beautiful painting. You grinned, ready to guide him through it. Little did you know that in that moment, you had endeared yourself to Remus in a way not many people were able to.
For the next few hours, well after curfew, you and Remus stayed perched on the RavenClaw tower, as you instructed him on what colors and paints to use. He was doing his best not to ‘ruin it’, which quickly went out the window when, in a moment of playful determination, you covered your hands in black paint and began to stamp your canvas. Convincing him that you truly didn't care what he did to the painting as long as it was fun.
Finally, you both snuck out of the RavenClaw tower as quietly as possible, trying not to wake anyone. Leading to you two in the halls, laughing and joking as he carried your canvas for you.
“So, you're self taught?” He prodded and you nodded.
“Yup! Have been doing this since I was.. four? Likely. My mother showed me.” You hummed and he gave a delighted laugh.
“Really? So you're studying in your free time?”
“Mhm! It's not something that can really be.. taught. So Hogwarts doesn't have classes on it quite yet.” You waved your hand vaguely and he nodded.
“You're telling me this now, after all that time trying? You got my hopes up, {L/N}.”
You giggled and he put his hand over his heart in fake anguish.
“I was this close to changing career paths, you know.”
“Oh, I'm sure you were. I could see the headline now: 'Remus Lupin, Future Auror, Turns Painter After One Magical Evening.'” You laughed, nudging him playfully with your elbow.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I’ll stick to Defense Against the Dark Arts, thank you very much. But this-” He gestured to the covered painting with a soft look. “You turned this mess into something amazing. You're truly talented.”
“I know.” You sang and he laughed, nudging you.
“I'm serious, you know.”
“Sirius? I thought you were his boyfriend?”
“Oh Merlin, you're as bad as they are.”
You gave a laugh of your own and shoved him back. “Oh, you Marauders? Please tell me you're joking.”
“No, no, truly. I think you'd get along. Gryffindor tower is next, right?” He prodded as you both entered the hall and stopped just before the dungeons’ entrance.
“Mhm.”
“I'll see you tomorrow then?” He offered and held out his hand. You took it with a firm shake and you both said your goodbyes, hurrying over to the Slytherin common room.
~~~
“She's quite fun, showed me how to match pallets colors.” Remus rambled on to Lily who gave a delighted laugh at how excited he was to show her his new found artistic ability. They were sitting on the couch together, and he was exposing to her why his newest sweater vest was absolutely ruined
“She sounds lovely.” Lily hummed, Sirius smirking from his spot between Remus’s knees, looking up at him. Eyes closed as one of the werewolf’s hands tangled in his loches of hair.
“So lovely you should just marry her.” Sirius teased and Remus glared at him, giving a particularly rough tug at his boyfriend's hair. Sirius giving a chuckle and biting his lip. “I see no punishment here.”
“You-”
“Whose getting hitched?” James piped up from the stairs, jogging over and hopping onto the couch. Making the cushions bounce a bit as he got comfortable. “Evans, how can you let this happen? A Hogwarts marriage that's not our own?”
Lily gave a sigh and rolled her eyes, gathering her things and saying her goodbyes to Remus and Sirius, giving James the cold shoulder with a simple ‘Potter’ as he put his hand over his chest and sunk further into the cushions.
“She says that name like it won't be hers someday.” He sighed fondly before he turned to look at the other two. “Where's Wormy?”
“He's on a date with a Hufflepuff.” Sirius snickered. “Some seventh year dude.”
“Huh.” James muttered and looked at the ceiling. “Didn't think he'd be the type to date older.”
“Yeah well-” Before Sirius could continue, Remus’s head peaked up from the couch when there was a knock on the portrait door.
“That her?” Sirius asked as Remus slugged out of his seat to get around his clingy boyfriend.
“Likely!” He shouted back and James tilted his head like a confused puppy.
“Who?” He quizzed Sirius and he smirked up at James.
“{Y/N} {L/N}, the artist extraordinaire.” Sirius replied with mock seriousness, adjusting his position to climb onto the couch. “Remus has been raving about her all evening.”
“{Y/N} {L/N}? Where have I heard of her before?” James leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Oh! That paint girl? One who has been doing those weird paint studies around school?”
“Yeah, that’s her.” Sirius replied, grinning. “Apparently, she's doing some self study. Remus was practically glowing when he talked about her.”
James’s eyes widened with intrigue. “That’s brilliant! I’ve heard whispers about her- it’s supposed to be absolutely mesmerizing.”
“I wouldn't go that far.” You interjected, stepping through the portrait hole just in time to catch the end of the conversation. You were slightly out of breath, having hurried from the Slytherin dungeons to the Gryffindor tower, your paint-stained overalls still evidence of your artistic endeavors from yesterday. Looking around at the beautiful common room. A very faded almost gray-green scarf around your neck.
Burnt Scarlet and Butterscotch
The room fell silent as all eyes turned toward you. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You teased with a playful grin, glancing around at the familiar faces of the infamous boys. Sirius was looking you over curiously, with his typical sleazy grin, but James seemed absolutely slack jawed. After a moment of a wait you gave a small laugh, snapping James out of whatever trance he was in. Turning to look at Remus who had his eyes locked on your paints, making you smile.
His eyes flicked up to yours and he grinned back cheekily. “Where should I set up?”
“Over here, near the window.” He gestured over to a small nook. You hurried over and set your things down. Starting of course with a small tarp to set up your painting area without having to worry about ruining the flooring.
You set up two canvas this time and Remus helped you, confused at first before you set another pallet and paint brush down. “Alright, my student. Do you remember what I taught you?” You teased and he laughed, walking over to pick up the paint.
“You didn't have the bring this just for me.”
“Oh I know, how great am I, right?” You teased and sat down. Remus was still getting used to your deflective personality. Shrugging as he sat down and watched as you worked. Doing his best to copy your movements.
Meanwhile, Sirius and James were watching the scene curiously. Sirius couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the attention his boyfriend was giving this new girl, and James was unable to get over the fading color of your scarf. His jaw clenched a bit as he watched Lily walk over to introduce herself, also somehow roped in by your charm and even sitting down with you two to watch you paint.
James leaned back on the couch, arms crossed as he watched the interaction unfold before him. The sight of you, animated and joyful as you explained your artistic process to Remus and Lily, stirred something in him. It wasn't just the way you wielded your paintbrush with such confidence; it was the warmth that radiated from you. You were a Slytherin, so obviously, but you held the room like a Gryffindor. You worked with the precision of a RavenClaw. You were patient and thoughtful with Remus and his questions, like a HufflePuff.
He didn't get it.
“Oi, Prongs, you look like you’ve just swallowed a lemon.” Sirius whispered, nudging James with his elbow. “What’s got you all broody?”
“Nothin.” James replied, too quickly, his eyes still fixed on you. “Just… watching.”
Sirius followed his eyes and slowly smirked to himself. “She's getting under your skin too, huh?”
James glanced at Sirius before his glare locked back on you as you instructed Lily to take your paintbrush and gestured to the canvas he couldn't see. “What's her deal? Why's she so.. smiley?”
The ‘as a Slytherin’ part came unspoken to both of the boys.
“You know, Remus says she knows Crouch.”
“Of course she does.” He muttered, eyes locked on the way you rolled up your sleeve and cuffed them. How you loosened your collar, and leaned down, showing the upper valley to your-
And suddenly the floor was a bit more interesting. He turned to look at Sirius who’s lip twitched as he watched Remus rub his thumb across his cheek and smudge some black paint on himself.
“... Merlin, he's bloody fit, ain't he?” Sirius muttered and James gave a loud exaggerated groan.
“I'm shocked Remus is entertaining her at all.” James finally muttered and sunk deeper into his sheet like a pouty child. Sirius nodded.
James watched with narrowed eyes as you laughed along with Remus and Lily, his annoyance bubbling up to the surface. Without really thinking it through, he pushed himself up from the couch, making his way over to where you were sitting with the paintbrushes and palettes laid out neatly.
He made it look casual, like he was just getting a better view, but as he stepped closer, his foot "accidentally" caught the jar of paint water perched near the edge of the table. It tipped, and time seemed to slow as the murky water splashed all over your leggings that just peaked form under your overalls, staining the fabric a dark, ugly color.
"Oh! Whoops, sorry 'bout that," James said, not quite managing to hide the smirk tugging at his lips. His tone was just on the edge of sincere, but the glint in his eyes gave him away.
You glanced down at the mess, then up at James, and for a moment it seemed like the whole room held its breath. James just waiting for the snake to snap its jaws at him. But instead of getting angry, instead of snapping at him like he expected, you just smiled- a bright, genuine smile that made James's stomach twist uncomfortably.
"No worries, Potter.” You mused, brushing it off as if nothing had happened. "A bit of extra color never hurt anyone."
James blinked, taken aback. He hadn’t expected that. He muttered something that might have been an apology, but the way you smiled at him; completely unbothered- only made his irritation flare up more. He turned sharply on his heel, stalking back to the couch where Sirius was watching with an amused expression.
"Smooth, mate," Sirius drawled, arching an eyebrow.
"Shut it," James muttered, sinking back into his seat, his eyes flicking back to you as you continued painting like nothing had happened.
---
Over the next few days, James found himself increasingly irked by you. No matter what he did, you never seemed fazed. He "accidentally" knocked over your brushes during lunch one day, scattering them across the floor. You just laughed, picking them up without complaint. He charmed your canvas to keep sliding down whenever you set it up, but you only adjusted it each time, humming to yourself as if it were all just part of the process. He even tried to charm the colors in your palette to mix into a murky brown- but you simply shrugged, saying something about it being a "happy little accident" and turned it into a whole new painting.
Each time, you just smiled at him, that infuriatingly calm smile that made James feel like he was the one being childish. It was driving him mad, and Sirius, for one, found the whole thing endlessly entertaining.
One morning, James was sitting in the Great Hall, absently poking at his breakfast, when he heard a determined set of footsteps approaching. He looked up just in time to see you standing over him, hands on your hips, your eyes sharp. If James was a smarter boy, he would of been able to see the faint red rims around your eye sockets and the twitch of your lip.
"Potter.” You huffed, your voice carrying just enough edge to catch the attention of the surrounding students. "Give it back."
James blinked, feigning innocence. "Give what back?"
"Don't play dumb.” You snapped, leaning over the table, your face inches from his. "My paintbrush. The one with the silver handle. I know you took it."
James opened his mouth to deny it, but the look in your eyes made him hesitate. There was something different today- a fire that hadn’t been there before. He was finally getting a reaction from you. He felt his resolve waver, and before he could stop himself, he found his hand reaching into his robes, to pull out the paintbrush in question. Only.. it wasn't there.
James blinked, his smirk faltering as he patted the pocket where he thought he’d stashed your paintbrush. It wasn’t there. A pang of unease settled in his chest as he searched through the other pockets of his robes, the smirk fading completely as he came up empty-handed.
“Are you kidding me?” You straightened, your eyes narrowing. “Potter, don’t play games right now. That brush… it’s important to me.”
There was a crack in your voice, something raw that caught James off guard. The confidence you always carried seemed to waver, your voice betraying a vulnerability that made James's stomach sink with guilt.
“I… I swear it was right here,” James muttered, now frantically checking every inch of his robes, his face growing paler with each empty pocket. The students around them had grown quiet, sensing the sudden seriousness of the situation.
Remus was glaring daggers into his very soul, even Sirius hid his face away in his hand.
You stood there, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your lips pressed together as you fought to maintain composure. You looked away from him, swallowing hard. “Potter, that was my mother’s. She gave it to me before…” You trailed off, your voice breaking slightly before you cleared your throat, trying to regain control.
James’s heart sank. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t thought. All he’d wanted was to rile you up, to see you react. He hadn’t meant for this.
“Alright,” He said quickly, standing up from the table. His voice was more earnest now, the usual cockiness gone. “I’ll help you find it. It must have fallen out somewhere. Let’s go check my dorm.”
You didn’t say anything, just nodded stiffly, blinking rapidly as you turned on your heel and started walking, James trailing after you. The Great Hall was eerily quiet as they left, whispers following in their wake.
“She's too damn nice.” Remus muttered and Sirius sighed. About to say something, before he earned a glare from Remus too.
Lily tutted. “As if you weren't involved in anything he's done to her so far.”
~~~
The walk to the Gryffindor common room felt like it took forever, the silence between the two of you heavy. James kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, the way your jaw was clenched, the way you kept your eyes straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze.
When they reached the boys' dormitory, James immediately began tearing through his things, searching every nook and cranny. He pulled open drawers, checked under his bed, even rummaged through the pockets of his other robes. But the paintbrush was nowhere to be found.
He turned to you, his hands dropping to his sides in defeat. “I… I’m so sorry, {Y/N}, I can’t find it. Maybe it fell somewhere else, maybe-”
“Stop,” You cut him off, your voice barely a whisper. Your eyes were glassy, tears welling up as you looked at him. The fight you’d been trying to keep inside seemed to crumble all at once, your shoulders sagging as you sank down onto the edge of his bed. “It’s gone, isn’t it?”
James stared at you, his heart aching at the sight of you like this. He’d never imagined he’d see you cry, and knowing he was the cause of it made him feel worse than he ever thought possible. Suddenly all those weeks of trying to get under your skin seemed more of a success, if this was the result of a truly damaging prank.
“I…” He didn’t know what to say, how to fix this. He knelt down in front of you, his voice gentle. “I’ll find it, I promise. I’ll look everywhere, I’ll…”
You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It’s not just a paintbrush, Potter. It was hers. It was all I had left of her.”
James’s chest tightened, and he reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on your knee. “I’m so sorry. I… I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I’ll find it. I swear I will.”
You looked down at his hand, then back at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of pain and exhaustion. “Just… don’t,” You whispered, your voice breaking. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Potter.”
And with that, you stood up, wiping at your eyes as you turned and left the dormitory, leaving James there, staring after you, feeling more helpless than he ever had before.
~~~
James had never felt guilt like this. It gnawed at him, making his usual swagger feel empty. Over the next few days, he found himself constantly scanning the corridors, the classrooms, even the common rooms, hoping to catch a glimpse of you but you were always just out of reach. Each time he spotted you, you either turned and walked the other way or simply looked right through him as if he didn't exist.
It wasn't long before the whole school knew what had happened. How James Potter had lost something precious of yours, something irreplaceable. And unlike other times, where his mischief had earned him admiration or laughter, this time he received disapproving glares and whispers behind his back. How he hurt the only Slytherin everyone seemed to adore. Even Remus had given him the cold shoulder for a while, and Lily refused to talk to him outright.
One day, after Transfiguration, James caught sight of you slipping out of the classroom. He hurried to catch up, weaving through the crowd of students, his heart pounding in his chest. When he finally reached you, he touched your arm gently.
“{Y/N}, please, just give me a second.”
You turned slowly, your eyes meeting his. There was a guardedness there that hadn’t been before, a wall that you had built between yourself and him. It hurt more than James could put into words.
Even then, you took time to notice; Cinnamon Brown in his eyes.
James Potter was used to rejection, Lily Evans ran him like it was a damned sport, but something about your usually positive beaming face turning to a frown at the sight of him wrecked him.
“What do you want, Potter?” You asked, your voice tired, as if dealing with him was just another chore.
He swallowed, struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry. Really. I never meant for things to go this far. I’ve been looking for your brush, I swear it. I… I just want to make it up to you.”
You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “There’s nothing you can do, alright? Just leave it, Potter.”
“But-”
“No,” You said firmly. “I don’t want anything to do with you. You’ve done enough. I- I thought you were funny, that you could tell a good joke. Take one too. But this- no. No, just leave me be, Potter.”
James flinched at your words, the finality of them cutting deeper than he expected. He watched as you turned and walked away, the distance between you growing with every step.
~~~
James's heart sank deeper with each day that passed without a sign of the lost paintbrush. He had scoured the castle, enlisted the help of some of his housemates, and even tried asking around discreetly in other houses, but to no avail. It was as if the brush had vanished into thin air, leaving behind a growing rift between him and you.
Sitting in the Gryffindor common room, James slumped on a couch, staring blankly at the fire crackling in the hearth. Sirius and Remus were there too, the latter still showing signs of his displeasure over the whole ordeal.
"I messed up, didn't I?" James murmured, not really expecting an answer.
"You did.” Remus deadpanned, not looking up from his book. "And you know it's not just about the brush. It's about how you've been treating her from the start."
Sirius, lounging with his back against the armrest, watched James closely. "You've been a right prat, Prongs- even I gave in after the first prank.” He remarked and avoided Remus’s slight glare. “You didn't just step on her toes, you danced the bloody Tango on them."
James sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I just wanted to get a rise out of her, see her react. But now... I can't stop thinking about how I made her feel. It's like I'm seeing myself for the first time and it's not a pretty picture."
"Sounds like you've got it bad," Sirius said with a smirk.
Remus closed his book, finally giving James his full attention, not exactly happy with what he was hearing. "It's not just guilt, James. It's empathy. You're finally understanding the impact of your actions on others."
James looked from Sirius to Remus, the realization slowly dawning on him. "It's not like I like her. She's just.. pretty. You know, I hate to see a pretty face so upset.” He scoffed and looked back to Sirius who arched his eyebrow and smirked wider as he realized his remark wasn't as playful as he intended.
“That right?” Sirius pushed and James huffed.
“That’s right.”
“When was the last time you bothered poor Evans?” Sirius challenged and Remus gave a low groan. Great, James just couldn't leave his friends alone.
He watched in a bit of sympathy as the dumb boys jaw slowly went limp and his eyes widened. “Merlin, I think I like her.” He mumbled in absolute dread. “Like really like her. And I've gone and ruined it before it could even start."
"Well, you can't undo what you've done, but you can start making amends," Remus advised, a softer tone replacing his earlier reprimand.
"How? She doesn’t even want to see me," James lamented.
"Give her time and show her you've changed.. And Merlin, don't do this just to win her over." Remus huffed.
James pondered, his gaze drifting toward the flickering fire. "What if she never forgives me?"
"Then you’ll learn a valuable lesson in respect, won't you?" Remus said sternly. "You can't force forgiveness, James. All you can do is prove that you're better than your worst mistake."
“Does Merlin speak straight through you?” James muttered to Remus who swatted him with the book across his lap, before standing.
“I need new friends.” He mumbled as he walked away.
Sirius laughed and James pouted, sinking back into the cushions of the couch. Pondering what would be the next best move when earning your forgiveness. He could live with never being with you, he always found the concept of lost love romantic.
What he couldn't do was live knowing he hurt you without even trying for your forgiveness.
~~~
For the next few weeks, Hogwarts transformed into an entirely different realm for James. Determined to right his wrongs, he threw himself into the role of a repentant suitor with the zeal of a true 70s romantic hero; one who was more often clumsy than charming.
One morning at breakfast, armed with an armful of apology notes penned in his best handwriting (which still looked suspiciously like chicken scratch), James tried to navigate the treacherous waters of your friends’ skepticism and Barty’s disdain. He handed out his notes, his voice tinged with hopeful earnestness that made a few of your friends stifle their giggles. “Could you- um, would you make sure {Y/N} gets these? They’re, well, important.” His cheeks flamed red as he stumbled over his words, but the sincerity in his eyes earned him a few nods. The stuttering and foolish boy even earning a smile from Pandora Rosier who assured him she'd ‘do her best.’
He was getting desperate, at every shred of attention you spared him. During potions class, James attempted to be your knight in shining armor, which, predictably, went about as well as a troll in a ballet shop. When he noticed you struggling to reach a vial of newt eyes on a high shelf, he leapt up, nearly knocking over his own cauldron in his eagerness to assist. “Allow me!”
But his overly enthusiastic grab sent the vial spinning into the air, only to crash down right next to Slughorn’s feet, splattering the hem of his robes with an unsightly goo.
“Sorry, Professor!” James winced, while you suppressed a snicker at the sheer absurdity of his gallantry. Graveling even as he was sentenced to detention.
Now, James knew that if he wanted to be truthful with you it started with his behaviors. Which, started with him being truly himself. So, much to Remus’s annoyance, James turned to grander gestures.
He managed to convince the house elves to let him borrow the kitchens for an evening to bake you a peace offering. Armed with sugar, flour, and an overabundance of misplaced confidence, he set about creating what he envisioned would be a culinary masterpiece. The result was a lopsided cake with icing that read, "Forgive me?" in wobbly letters. Only, half of the cake was callapsed, making it seem much more like a command of “give me”.
He presented it to you during dinner, his hands shaking slightly as he placed it on the table. The entire Great Hall watched in anticipation as you took a bite. The cake was oddly salty, but when your lips twitched into a reluctant smile, James felt a surge of pure elation. Maybe, just maybe, his efforts were thawing your icy regard.
He even tried serenading you one evening in the common room, guitar in hand- a skill he had hastily learned over the past week. His voice cracked more than once, and the guitar was slightly out of tune, but he sang with such heartfelt passion that even the portraits along the walls seemed to listen in. He crooned to you, mangling the melody as he went. You watched, half-amused and half-astonished, as this boy who’d never shown an interest in music before butchered the song with endearing enthusiasm. Everyone in your common room appalled.
Through it all, James's exploits became the talk of Hogwarts. Whispers followed him everywhere- some mocking, others admiring. Some even amused that his attention had switched from Lily Evans, to you after years of pining. But beneath the laughter and the rumors, a thread of respect grew among his peers. Here was James Potter, chasing redemption as doggedly as he’d once chased after mischief.
Late one night, as James sat by the fire reflecting on his recent life choices, Sirius plopped down next to him, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “Prongs, you’re a bleeding heart wrapped in a jester’s cloak,” Sirius shook his head with a grin.
James laughed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I just need to know she forgives me, Padfoot. That I’ve made things right.”
“Well, mate, at the very least, you’ve given the whole school a good show,” Sirius chuckled. “And who knows? Maybe our little Slytherin is writing her own notes now; ‘How to Tame Your Marauder’ or something more poetic.”
James smiled, gazing into the flickering flames, hopeful and a bit wiser. In his quest to win your forgiveness, he’d stumbled across something unexpected. Something worth it. Not just you, but a desire- no, need- to better himself. Every time he saw you smile, made you laugh, roll your eyes, he wanted to be someone better. Someone who deserved to find themselves feeling the magic of being in love with a girl like {Y/N} {L/N}.
And maybe he'd even find himself worthy of her affection in return.
~~~
It all came to a head one day when he was scouring the school once again for your paintbrush. He had lost track of time in his mindless routine and forgotten about potions class. He was a half hour late, dashing into the classroom in a ruffled mess.
His breathless arrival didn’t go unnoticed, especially by you, who eyed him warily from your spot at the potions bench. Professor Slughorn eyed him with a mixture of irritation and curiosity.
“Mr. Potter, so kind of you to join us,” Slughorn boomed, sarcasm heavy in his tone. “Twenty points from Gryffindor for your tardiness, it's almost as if you left to miss my instruction specifically.”
James grimaced but still tried to flash his playful smile that usually meant a clap back or snark. Instead, it was his form of a hesitant apology. “Sorry Professor-”
“I am not going over the instructions for Amortentia a third time today, is anyone willing to assist Mr. Potter?” Slughorn announced form the front of the class. There was a long moment of silence. Even with everyone slowly growing fond of him, no one was willing to drag down such an important project for the foolish boy.
Then, from across the room, your voice cut through the tension. "I can help him, Professor," you said, your voice calm but with an edge that didn’t entirely mask your reluctance. Everyone's heads turned towards you, including a visibly surprised James.
"Very well, {Y/N}. Please ensure Mr. Potter catches up without disrupting the rest of the class," Slughorn replied with a nod, turning back to his notes.
James approached your bench, a mix of gratitude and nervousness evident on his face. As he took the seat next to you, he whispered, "Thank you, I really mean it."
As James settled beside you at the potions bench, his hands fumbled slightly with the equipment. Slughorn, having returned to the front of the class, continued with his lecture, oblivious to the dramatic love story unfolding at the back.
James cleared his throat softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Really, {Y/N}, thanks for helping me out here. I know I've been... well, less than admirable lately."
You didn't look at him immediately, focusing instead on measuring out rose thorns with precision. "Just start by adding these to the cauldron slowly.” You instructed, handing him the thorns. "And stir- don't let it settle."
As he followed your instructions, his movements were careful, mirroring the cautious tone he was taking with you. After a moment, you finally met his gaze. "You've been trying hard, haven't you?" You muttered, not unkindly. Your eyes drifting over his focused expression and having to fight a smile.
James paused, the stirring rod in his hand still. "I have. I want to make things right, not just with you but... well, I've been thinking a lot about things I've done. I'm sorry, truly."
You watched him, the sincerity in his eyes striking a chord that made your heart ache. What had you done to the famous James Potter? His efforts over the past few weeks hadn’t gone unnoticed- it was quite entertaining. From the awkwardly presented cake to his out-of-tune serenades, his actions spoke far more than his words ever did. "I've noticed.” You whispered. "It's been hard to miss, really. Hogwarts hasn't been this entertaining in years."
A small smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "I guess I've made a bit of a spectacle of myself."
"Just a bit.” You chuckled, the tension easing between you as the familiar rhythm of your banter found its footing again.
Encouraged by that sweet sound of your laugh and the pretty way your lips curled into a smile he just adored-, James continued, "If there’s any chance I could, you know, maybe start over? I’d understand if not but-"
"You're really laying it on thick with the humility, Potter. It’s a good look on you.” You teased gently, turning back to the potion, which was now bubbling contentedly. "Let's just take it one day at a time. But, yeah, we can start with being friends."
James let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, relief washing over him. "Friends, right. And if you ever want to throw more paint at me, just say when."
"Be careful, I might take you up on that.” You warned with a playful grin.
As the class progressed, you both fell into an easy rhythm, the earlier awkwardness replaced by a budding conversation. James was surprisingly adept once he focused, and you found yourself laughing more genuinely than you had in a while at his self-deprecating jokes and clumsy yet earnest attempts at potion-making.
By the end of the class, not only had you two successfully brewed a passable batch of Amortentia, which thankfully didn't smell like sweat and regret. James had shown you a different side of himself, one that was humbly trying to make amends and move forward. And as you packed up your supplies, sharing a light joke about the day's mishaps, it felt like a fresh start was truly possible.
James took the chance to smile back at Remus and Sirius. Sirius seemed delighted for him, and Remus seemed hesitant. But it was okay, because you hadn't just forgiven him. You were willing to be his friend.
~~~
James slowly realised that being your friend was likely one of the best feelings he's had in a while. He thought everyone you had met were your friends, considering how sweet and lovely you were with everyone.
But he was wrong.
There was a crazy side to you that only a small few saw. He learned it quickly, that you were sweet, kind, understanding- yes.
But you were an absolute gremlin when you wanted to be.
James discovered this one evening when you invited him to join you for a late-night painting session- a tradition you shared with a select few. Remus told him about them, but he never really understood just how amazing it felt to have your full attention like this. He had anticipated a serene evening, maybe learning a bit more about your magical painting techniques. Instead, he found himself in the middle of a chaotic spree of creativity that involved more prank-like antics than actual painting.
How in the bloody hell had he not known you properly?
As James entered the room, he was immediately hit by a flying glob of paint. It splattered across his face, dripping down his cheek. He stood, stunned for a moment, before hearing your laughter from behind an easel.
“Oh Potter, rule one. Never let your guard down.” You taunted and quickly hurried over to your canvas. Able to notice how the bright pink paint clung to his Jet Black hair.
Wiping the paint off with a sleeve, James couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a spark of challenge light up within him. "Oh, it’s on, {Y/N}." He responded, grabbing a palette loaded with vibrant colors.
What ensued was a wild mess of laughter, artistic ‘attacks,’ and impromptu paint duels that left both of you covered in every hue imaginable. Hindsight is 20/20- he shouldn't of worn his school robes. It was during these moments, dodging your playful ambushes and crafting hasty shields out of canvas boards, that James realized how comfortable he felt around you. Your laughter became a soundtrack he looked forward to, and your approving nods at his clumsy attempts at art warmed him more than he expected.
“It's humiliating how good you're getting at this.” You teased from your perch on a stool, James chuckled and playfully flipped you off.
“So much sass. And if I credited this to my teacher?”
“You should, I'm bloody good.” You laughed, wiping your nose before sneezing away some of the wet paint you forgot was on your hand.
That night became a normal accurance, it was like you two never fought. You two would find yourself laying on a tarp full of paint. You were laying on your back with your legs against the wall, and he was sitting with his back against said wall. Both of you looking off into dead space as you both talked about the most random and ridiculous things; from the controversial taste of pasties to the value and control one had over each other's fates.
“You know, everytime I come here, I remember why I've fallen for you.”
His words came out before he could stop himself. His jaw dropped at his own broken honesty, horrified that he had ruined the moment.
After a moment of silence, he looked down to see you smiling at the ceiling.
“Is that so?”
James swallowed thick and clenched his jaw a bit.
“Yeah.”
“That's awfully sweet of you.”
Your words were light, but they carried a weight that settled over James with an unexpected warmth. He watched you, admiring the serene expression on your face, highlighted by the ambient light that filtered through the scattered paint jars around you. He welcomed the twist of his gut like an old friend.
"I mean it, though," James continued, a hint of vulnerability in his voice as he leaned his head back against the wall, his gaze still fixed on you. "You make it easy to be myself, to be better. You've turned what started as a mess into something... pretty great."
“And isn't that just life?” You teased softly. “Sappy, messy, and yet an absolute masterpiece.”
“Is that what you truly believe?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I just say what makes sense to me in the moment.”
“You're a pain.” He chuckled and looked down, seeing your smile had grown tenfold. Your nose scrunching up and the corners of your eyes wrinkling.
James couldn't resist the infectious energy of your smile. It pulled a laugh from deep within him, a genuine, carefree sound that filled the room- he was screwed. "You're brilliant, you know that? Absolutely infuriating, but brilliant."
You shifted to sit up, leaning against the wall next to him, paint smears marking both your faces and clothes. "I'll take that as a compliment, Potter. Coming from you, it means quite a lot."
And that was all. James hadn't even registered your soft rejection, just relieved you seemed to accept him regardless. He leaned his head on your shoulder and you flicked off some stray pain from his nose. He smiled, all teeth, before he got up and forced you to your feet. Pulling you into a dance that made you cackle like a proper witch. And that was enough. To see you so bloody happy was enough.
~~~
James learned to share you quickly. With Barty always on your heel or Pandora hovering listlessly at your side.
He even grew accustomed to seeing you draped in the easy camaraderie of Ravenclaws and your fellow Slytherins, your infectious laugh filling the spaces you all occupied together. It was during these times that James learned to appreciate you in a new light- not just as a friend or a fleeting crush, but as a vibrant part of his Hogwarts experience.
It wasn’t always easy, of course. The sting of his previous actions lingered like a shadow at the edge of his thoughts, a reminder of the consequences of his thoughtlessness. Yet, each shared smile and each shared conversation with you wove a new thread of respect and affection into the fabric of his daily life.
As winter deepened and the snow began to blanket Hogwarts, bringing with it the festive buzz of the upcoming holiday season, James found himself more reflective. The common room was often aglow with the warm light of the fire, students gathered around in cozy clusters, and it was here that James found a new sense of belonging. Not just as a Marauder, but as a friend among a wider circle that included you.
One chilly evening, as the wind howled outside and the frost painted delicate patterns on the castle windows, James approached you with a tentative peace offering- a sketchbook. Its cover was a simple, deep blue, but inside, he had taken the time to fill the first page with a clumsy yet earnest attempt at a magical painting. It wasn’t animated like yours, but the colors were vibrant, a silent testament to his efforts to understand your world.
You accepted the sketchbook with a surprised chuckle, flipping through the blank pages before pausing at his painting. “This is for me?” You asked, a softness in your voice that hadn’t been there before.
“Yeah,” James nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking uncharacteristically shy. “I thought… well, I thought you could use it to capture the winter. I know it’s not magical like yours, but-”
“It’s perfect, James,” You interrupted, a sincere smile breaking across your face. “Really. Thank you.”
That smile, that simple moment, seemed to close a chapter on the earlier tensions between you two.
“Of course, it's not free.”
“Id expect nothing less.” You teased and he chuckled.
“Quiddich. You never go to the games. All I ask, next week, come and cheer me on?” He offered and you couldn't up but laugh. “Are you asking for a lucky charm, Potter?”
”Not any Lucky charm. Mine.”
~~~
The day of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin arrived with the usual buzz of excitement and rivalry. The stands were packed, a sea of red and green as students cheered boisterously for their respective houses. James, his nerves on edge, had been secretly looking forward to seeing you in the crowd, especially after your promise to wear Gryffindor red. It was a small victory, but for him, it meant the world.
However, as he scanned the crowd from his broom high above, his heart sank a little. There you were, indeed wrapped in a bold, red scarf, but still cheering enthusiastically for Slytherin. The sight was confusing and, if he was honest with himself, a bit disappointing. Throughout the match, James tried to focus on the game, but his eyes inevitably kept drifting back to you. Each cheer for Slytherin felt like a playful taunt, and his competitive spirit took a hit each time.
Despite his best efforts, the game didn't go well for Gryffindor. Slytherin was sharp, coordinated, and relentless. When the Slytherin seeker caught the Snitch, sealing their victory, a wave of green cheers swept the stands. James landed his broom with a tight expression, his disappointment not just in the loss, but in the mixed signals you seemed to be sending.
The teams made their way back to the locker rooms amidst mixed reactions from the crowd. While his team consoled each other and talked about what went wrong, James couldn’t shake off his gloom. He avoided the usual post-game mingling, instead heading straight for the Gryffindor common room, his mood as dark as the clouds above.
As he slumped into an armchair by the fire, the common room mostly empty due to the ongoing celebrations outside, Remus and Sirius walked in. They took one look at him and exchanged a glance.
“Tough game, Prongs,” Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Yeah. And I guess the whole wearing-red thing didn’t mean what I thought it did,” James muttered, not meeting his friends' eyes.
Remus, ever the perceptive one, added softly, “Maybe there’s more to it, James. Did you ask her about it?”
Before James could respond, the portrait hole opened, and you stepped in, still wearing the red scarf, your expression a mix of concern and determination. Seeing you, Sirius and Remus excused themselves with knowing smiles, leaving the two of you alone.
James, as avoidant as ever and riddled with emotions he didn't want to confront, stood sharply and turned towards his dormitory. You gawked at him before furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance, a pout taking over your expression. You hurried after him.
“What's wrong, Jamie?”
Oh Merlin.
“I don't want to talk to you.” James hissed out and shoved his way into his room. You huffed and shoved the door open and walked in, closing the door behind yourself.
“You're not being very fair right now. I'm sorry I couldn't win the game for you but-”
“Do not make this about the win.”
“What is this about then, Jamie? I don't get it!”
“Stop calling me that.” He hissed and turned to face you, making you flinch.
“What's gotten into you?” You pushed cautiously and James scoffed.
“I can't do this! I don't get you!” He strained. “I tell you I've fallen for you and you brushed it off. I ask you to cheer for me and you show up in red, cheering for Slytherin!”
“James, it's my house.” You muttered softly and you saw his shoulders sag.
“Yeah but- I just figured-” He gave a long shaky sigh. Turning around and sitting on the bed, running his hands over his face.
You moved closer, taking a seat next to him on the bed, your own emotions swirling. Even then you were able to take notice. His teeth were strained by his jaw, yet they held the same Ballet White. His robes shimmering with Burnt Scarlet and Butterscotch. His eyes that locked onto yours so vulnerable, giving that perfect Cinnamon Brown. Then the way his hair shagged over his Jet Black lochs. You couldn't look away. Not from all your favorite colors.
“James, I wore red because you asked me to. I thought it was a way to show you that... that I care. But I'm still a Slytherin, and my friends were down there on that field too. I was cheering for them, not against you."
James looked at you, the frustration softening in his eyes as he processed your words. "I know, I know. It's just... everything got mixed up in my head. Seeing you there, in red, but not for Gryffindor. It felt like you were there, but not really with me."
You took his hand gently, squeezing it. "I was there for you, James. Maybe not in the way you expected, but I was there because you matter to me. I cheered for Slytherin, but I wore your favorite color. Can't I support both?"
James let out a small laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders. "When you put it like that, it sounds perfectly reasonable. I just... I guess I let the game get to me more than I should have."
"You're passionate, that's not a bad thing. But sometimes, you might see competition where there's just... affection." You offered him a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood further.
He returned your smile, this time with more warmth. "Affection, huh? So, you admit there’s something?" James teased, trying to shift back to his usual playful demeanor.
"Maybe I do.” You teased back, nudging him lightly. "But don't let it go to your head. We still have a lot to figure out, starting with how to handle house rivalries during Quidditch matches."
James chuckled, his spirits visibly lifted. "We'll figure it out. As long as it means I get to see you in Gryffindor red, maybe I can even cheer for Slytherin once in a while."
"That’s a deal.” You agreed, feeling the gap between you closing as the misunderstanding cleared up.
Just then, the door burst open, and Sirius poked his head in, a mischievous grin on his face. "Are we all forgiven and friendly now? Because there’s a victory party for Slytherin, and I was hoping to steal your girl for a dance, Prongs."
James rolled his eyes, but his smile was genuine. "Only if you promise to bring her back, Padfoot."
You laughed, standing up and offering James a hand up. "Let’s go then. And maybe we can start a new tradition- dancing together, no matter who wins the match."
James took your hand, standing and pulling you into a quick, grateful hug. "Sounds like a perfect plan."
Before he could pull away fully, you stole a quick kiss against his cheek. He gave a startled huff, staring at you with wide eyes. Before he could scamper out any response, or even kiss you back, you pulled away and sent him a wink. Hurrying after a laughing Sirius as he took your arm like a gentleman would.
It took James two to three business days for his system to turn back on. “H-hey, wait!” He shouted after you, stumbling over himself and hitting his foot against the bed. Giving a small curse before he stumbled back after you, not hearing the soft clank of something falling from between his head board and the dresser.
Later that night, you two would find your mother's paintbrush, nestled between his bed posts and pillows.
What were you doing in James Potter’s bed so late?
Experiencing a masterpiece.
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#james potter#sirius black#Remus Lupin#james potter x you#james fleamont potter#james potter x y/n#james potter x reader#lily Evans
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Because I Care
This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, based on an anon request. I'm sorry this took me so long to write for you. I hope you will all like it.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10
Eddie Diaz Masterlist
Summary: (Y/n) and Eddie are having a baby together, but when she starts to feel unwell, she thinks she should deal with it on her own and not worry or inform Eddie. After all, her ex never used to care, not even when she was falling apart.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A quiet hum vibrated at the back of (Y/n)'s throat as she nodded her head along to the music playing on the radio.
She began placing a few things down on the vanity, taking full advantage of the fact that Eddie said she could put things wherever she liked now that she was officially moving in with him and Chris. Most of her things were strewn about the bedroom in boxes and bags. She had already put most of her clothes away in the wardrobe.
It was surprising how many clothes Eddie owned. His things were split into his casual items hung up on one side and then the other side of the wardrobe had been all his smart clothes. Button up shirts, the odd suit, ties and such.
She leaned down to the left to grab a few accessories from the box by her feet, but her body shuddered and she gasped when a pair of strong hands suddenly curled around her hips.
She let go of whatever she had been truing to grab and straightened up just as she heard a deep chuckle vibrate through Eddie's chest that was now merging with her back. His lips formed into a smirk and he attached his lips to the side of her neck, tucking himself into her as he tugged her back until she was flush against his front.
He had stayed deathly quiet and managed to sneak his way into the bedroom without alerting her.
"What're you doing?" Her voice was quiet and raspy but she knew exactly what he was doing when she felt his fingertips move up until he had hold of the bottom of her shirt. He dragged it up so his hands could slide beneath her shirt and worm around to her stomach with his elbows pinned into her sides.
"Helping you," He murmured into her neck and gave her shirt another tug until she had to let him pull it over her head.
"Helping me what? I was trying to unpack." He wasn't exactly helping when (Y/n) was in the middle of moving all of her things and organising them so the boxes and bags were empty. Eddie was creating more hassle by removing her shirt and distracting her.
She slowly turned around in his arms, looking him up and down while he stared down at her.
"So am I." His words made (Y/n) grin while Eddie's hands roamed across her bare skin that he now had better access to with her shirt lying forgotten on the floor.
It took some effort to turn around in his arms and she rose a brow when she noticed he had the first few buttons of his shirt undone. Her hands moved to his shoulders while his hands stayed firm on her hips, but Eddie reclined back when he felt (Y/n) press a hollow kiss over his Adam's apple which made him gulp.
He shuddered when she slowly and methodically worked her way down his throat and down the middle of his exposed chest. Each butterfly kiss she pressed to his chest made Eddie's breathing hitch and his head tilted to the right as he watched her, completely enamoured.
When she worked her way back up his chest and pecked the corner of his mouth, Eddie moved.
He bent his knees and leaned down and in one swift motion, Eddie had his hands cupped around the back of (Y/n)'s thighs and he lifted her up off her feet. Her arms coiled around his neck and her legs looped around his back so she was perched low on his torso, feeling his belt rubbing against her thighs.
Her chest shuddered when Eddie placed her down on the dressing table behind her and pressed up between her legs that she kept looped around his hips.
Eddie kept one arm around her waist and moved the other to cup the back of (Y/n)'s neck, tilting her head back so she was looking up at him. He leaned down and stole a kiss from her lips, then another and another until he felt her thighs squeeze around his hips.
She felt his hands wriggle their way round to the back of her jeans and he managed to slip his fingers beneath them, making her gasp at his cold touch. She smoothed her thumb up and down his jaw when Eddie leaned to attach his lips back to her neck and she grinned when his teeth grazed her skin. He was going to mark her up.
"I still need to finish unpacking."
"We've got time." Eddie spoke breathlessly against her neck and dragged his nose along her chin as he lifted his head to look at her. He felt the way she tightened her legs around his waist like she was trying to catch his attention. But when (Y/n) moved her hand back to the side of his face and smiled, he grinned.
"Besides, don't you wanna christen the bed?" Something dark flash across Eddie's eyes as he rose a brow, waiting for a response.
It wasn't as if (Y/n) had never stayed the night before, she had stayed round lots of times. The only difference was that now, this was going to be her forever home rather than a home away from home.
When he got a sharp grin as a response, his hands were back on her thighs and he tugged her back onto his hips and lifted her up. He turned around, his lips meshed with hers, and walked over to the other side of the room towards the bed. He swallowed the gasp (Y/n) let out when he leaned her back and flopped her down onto the bed and laid on top of her, resting comfortably between her thighs.
She could feel the hand at the back of her neck tightening until his fingertips were scratching and tangling against her hair. He tilted her head back so she was staring up at him and leaned down and devour her lips.
He was doing well with distracting (Y/n) from the task she had come in here to do and her head started to go fuzzy the longer Eddie kissed her. She had a feeling that if they didn't have to go and collect Chris from school later this afternoon, they would have been in here all day. All night, even.
His lips attached to her neck but he made a very fast path down her neck and between her cleavage, grinning into her skin when he felt her chest suck inwards and noticed how she held her breath, waiting for his next move.
(Y/n) didn't realise she had closed her eyes until it felt like stars were glistening behind her eyelids. She could feel him biting a bruise into her skin before he tilted his chin down a little more so his nose brushed against the dark mark he'd created as if he was making it better.
"Eddie…" She tilted her head to one side and mustered up enough strength to prop herself up on her elbows so she could look over at him.
He paused in his administrations, his dark eyes locked onto hers and his blushing lips slightly parted which made him look even more devouring.
"I need to unpack before Chris comes home… help me, then it won't take as long. And you can do whatever you like after that." Resorting to bargaining seemed to be (Y/n)'s only choice. They told Chris (Y/n) would be moving in and he had been so happy, but they also promised that since this was going to be their first night together officially moved in and a family, that they would go out for tea.
That meant they wouldn't have time to finish tidying up and unpacking once Chris came home. It needed to be done now so everything was finished. If Eddie helped, it would be done twice as fast and there would be time before they had to get Chris to pick up where they left off.
There was a clear debate in Eddie's eyes, but when (Y/n) moved her hand to signify to the few items of clothing and items scattered on the bed, he relented.
His lips attached back to hers with fever and he almost pushed her back down with his force and the love hiding behind his touch. But when he leaned back, he let (Y/n) sit up properly again.
"Hm, suppose so." Each word was muttered so close to her lips that (Y/n) could taste them and the lust in his voice. It was intoxicating.
(Y/n) felt suddenly empty and cold when Eddie slowly climbed off of her and got back to his feet. She watched him as he pulled at his shirt where the buttons were undone like they were suddenly irritating him. And after a silent debate, Eddie pulled off his shirt and tossed it beside her on the bed. It was annoying him, and he didn't really need it on until they were planning to leave the house anyway.
He cast a smirk over in (Y/n)'s direction before he crouched down and started to move the boxes and open them.
He knew (Y/n) would tell him where she wanted everything, and she wouldn't object to Eddie taking a look and seeing what might look good in certain rooms around the house.
(Y/n) shuffled off the bed, not bothering to put her shirt back on, she stayed in her jeans and bra while she gathered the books from the bedside table and moved towards the door. Eddie had a few books in the living room near the fire place, she could put hers there too and have a combined collection.
She grabbed a box of ornaments from beside the door and headed into the living room.
The books all looked lovely, different sized hardbacks and a few paperbacks lined up together in (Y/n)'s own little order of size and colour. She went around the room placing little ornaments and trinkets here and there, wondering how long it would take Eddie and Chris to notice each one. She nodded to herself when it was all done and slowly trailed back towards the bedroom.
Eddie had put a few things around the bedroom, (Y/n) could see that, but the way he was sat on the end of the bed with a box in his hands made her curious. He looked completely entranced by something. There was a faraway look in his eyes and his head was slightly angled to the right.
Both his hands were softly tapping against the box on his lap and he had one foot jittering and tapping up and down against the laminate floor.
"What have you found?" Her lips curved into a smile, right until Eddie looked up at her.
He looked panicked. The way his wide eyes locked on her and how he seemed to hold his breath and swallow harshly made (Y/n)'s smile fade. Eddie looked like he had stumbled upon a box of secrets. If there had been anything of (Y/n)'s that she wanted to hide from Eddie, she wouldn't have brought it in, she would have left it in her car or a safe place. She didn't have anything to hide from him.
"What is it?"
"I didn't mean to pry." The softness in Eddie's voice was oddly soothing yet unsettling at the same time.
He shuffled along the end of the bed a little so he could set the box down in between them when (Y/n) perched down next to him to see what he was looking at.
(Y/n) tried to smile as she leaned forward and peered into the box. She rummaged around to see what Eddie had found, but her heart jumped into her throat when she looked inside.
Oh. He had found that box.
Eddie watched her carefully, unsure whether he had unintentionally touched a nerve by opening this box. He waited for (Y/n) to make the first move, to either open the box or to shove it to one side and tell him she didn't want to talk about it. Although he couldn't help the curiosity that was dwelling up inside of him along with the sympathy pooling in his eyes for her.
He leaned a little closer when (Y/n) reached into the box and when she picked out a picture and handed it to him, he took it carefully, not wanting nor daring to crease the preserved paper.
"It was a boy." (Y/n) wanted to smile, but her heart wouldn't allow it.
Something about the way Eddie traced his thumb along the scan photo made her heart surge.
She watched Eddie observe the photo and trace the pad of his finger along the writing in the top right corner. She knew he was looking at the date; silently working out when this had happened. Two years before she met Eddie.
"Can I ask what happened?" Eddie didn't want to overstep the mark, but he couldn't help also wanting to know what (Y/n) had been through. He loved her. They were moving in together and Eddie had been thinking non-stop about getting engaged. If that were going to happen, he wanted (Y/n) to open up with him. He had opened up about his experience in the army and how that affected him. He needed to understand her trauma too so he could help.
He handed the photo back to (Y/n) but he was surprised when she exchanged it in the box and shakily held out a blanket to him. She was opening up. She was happy for Eddie to look through the few keepsakes she had because they were important to her.
"He was stillborn, I was only twenty-five weeks so… the doctors didn't know why I had him early."
Eddie knew something had happened. He knew when they had been together for a few months and the topic of kids came up. It was clear that it was a subject (Y/n) didn't feel comfortable talking about. And during a passing conversation, Eddie remembered her casual words.
'I was pregnant once… it didn't work out.'
That had been enough to keep Eddie from approaching the subject any other times. He had been waiting until (Y/n) felt comfortable enough to talk to him about it, and it seemed like she was ready now.
When Eddie looked down at the blanket in his hands, something tugged at his heart like a hand seizing his arteries when he saw the small embroidery in the corner. Leo.
He found himself murmuring "It's a sweet name," while his thumb traced the golden thread.
"I chose it, my… Lewis didn't want to name him, but I did." (Y/n) began to ring her hands out and tangle her fingers together on her lap. Exes had been a sore subject to talk about between them. Shannon had been Eddie's one and only proper ex, all the rest were little flings from high school which didn't exactly count.
And the only lasting relationship (Y/n) had was with her ex partner Lewis, and he had been horrid. It was such a change to be with someone like Eddie. Someone who cared, who didn't belittle her or become distant and uncaring and cruel with twisted words. Eddie was the best thing to happen to (Y/n).
Eddie looked down when (Y/n) leaned her head on his shoulder and he pressed his lips to the back of her head.
"Where'd you want to put his things?" There was a small photobook with the scan photos and the few photos (Y/n) got of Leo when he was born. Along with the few clothes she bought and couldn't bear to part with and two blankets, and a small teddy bear. It wasn't much, but it was all she had of him and it was the things she didn't want to get rid of.
She took a moment to think and debate and when Eddie handed her the blanket back, (Y/n) placed it in the box and leaned forward.
Eddie's brows furrowed when he watched (Y/n) slide the box beneath the bed. That wasn't what he had been expecting. He thought (Y/n) would want the photos in the bedside drawer, somewhere close where she could look at them and have the blanket somewhere visible.
"Amor?" He murmured into her hair when she leaned back into him and he curved his arm around her waist to coil her into his chest.
"I don't like looking at them, I couldn't… I didn't cope, when I lost him and Lewis just made it worse. I couldn't get out of bed one day, I felt so broken, and- and he just sighed. He said it was my own fault."
The way Eddie's chest bristled and tensed against her made (Y/n) wince and close her eyes tight. But she was relieved when he looped his other arm over her chest so she was thoroughly encased in his embrace.
"Looking makes me remember."
It wasn't remembering her baby that was the problem and Eddie could see that. He knew the part she didn't want to remember was how Lewis had been with her and how broken she had felt during that period of her life. She was at a much better place now, remembering that sorrow only made (Y/n) feel like she was being dragged back down that rabbit hole again.
"Okay." Eddie moved his hand up to cup the side of (Y/n)'s jaw while he peppered a few kisses to her temple.
He couldn't understand people like Lewis. He couldn't fathom how they could be so cold and heartless, especially when a loved one was suffering. (Y/n) had been in the worst place in her life, and he acted like it was all her own doing. He didn't seem to grieve, he didn't get angry like (Y/n) or feel hopeless or like he had lost something so important that he couldn't live without.
Losing the baby had been but a minor inconvenience to him and Eddie couldn't wrap his head around someone like that. If Eddie had been in his place, he would have felt broken. He would have done his best to hold (Y/n)'s broken pieces together and put her first and try to help her. He wouldn't leave her or blame her like that.
"You know you're safe with me, don't you baby? I would never treat you like that." Eddie wasn't sure why, but he felt an overwhelming urge to make sure (Y/n) knew that something like that would never happen again. He wouldn't allow it.
He rested his cheek on top of her head when he felt her lips kissing over his pulse whilst his hand stayed cupping the side of her face. And he was sure he could feel her smiling against his skin.
(Y/n) wanted to smile at the memory that flashed to the front of her mind as she walked down the hall and aimed for the kitchen. Her fingers pulled at her sleeves until they were covering her hands and she coiled her arms around her waist.
Her eyes set on Eddie immediately. He was stood with his back to her, his hips jutting from side to side like a little dance as he washed the dishes.
She kept her steps light as she padded barefoot across the cold floor until she was stood behind him. She knew he hadn't heard her. She knew when she curved her arms underneath his and his chest tightened and he tensed up, he didn't expect her touch.
Her arms wrapped around his upper chest beneath his arms and her hands splayed out on his chest just below his collar bone. She glued her front up against his back and pressed her lips into his shirt between his shoulder blades. And when she pushed up on her toes, she placed a delicate kiss against the back of his neck which made a shiver tear down his spine.
"Hi baby," Eddie spoke softly as he dried his hands on the teatowel. When (Y/n) didn't respond and stayed pressed up against him, Eddie slowly turned around in her arms and pressed his hips up against the counter.
He looped his arms around the back of her shoulders and leaned down to peck her temple.
Adrenaline sparked in Eddie's chest when (Y/n) tilted her head up and caught him in a kiss. He brought his hands round to cup the sides of her face and his thumbs brushed across her cheekbones as she leaned her chest up into him. If it weren't for the counter behind him, they would have fallen to the floor.
When they finally parted, (Y/n) shivered at the feeling of Eddie's lips attaching to the side of her neck. It almost felt normal now to feel his moustache tickling her skin.
It was a new look. (Y/n) had seen Eddie with stubble over the years, and when he'd had time off work he actually started to grow a beard. He couldn't have one at work because they were deemed inappropriate and a fire hazard. But a moustache was different. It was a look that (Y/n) didn't think she would like, but somehow it made Eddie look even more handsome.
(Y/n) let her eyes fall closed as Eddie pushed off the counter so he was stood up straight again, but he was starting to lean more and more into her. She reached one hand up to cup the back of his neck and scratch her nails through the short hairs at the back of his neck which made him growl against her skin.
"Everything okay, baby?" Eddie's lips stayed against her neck for a few moments until (Y/n) pushed forward so her face was burrowed against the top of his chest and her arms looped tightly around the back of his neck.
He wasn't used to (Y/n) being so quiet, usually if she attached herself to him she would say something. Even if it was just to tell him to take her into the bedroom. But she wasn't talking and it was a little worrying.
"I have something to show you." (Y/n) kept her face tucked up against Eddie's neck and she feathered her fingers up and down his neck and the columns of his spine until he was shivering against her.
"Oh, what have you got?" He spoke into her hair as he dragged one hand up to feather his fingers up and down the groove of her spine.
She reeled her upper chest back just enough so that she could look up at Eddie. One arm stayed looped around his neck while her other hand moved to find what she had stuffed into her back pocket. She almost felt afraid to give it to him and find out what his reaction would be. She had done this before, but things had been so different when she was with Lewis.
This was Eddie. This was the one person who told her he loved her and showed her a million different ways that he meant it. This was the man she married six months ago, the one she knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
Her lips rolled into a thin line and she inched back to lean against the kitchen island while Eddie looked at what she had handed over to him.
A pregnancy test.
Eddie stared at it for a few moments, maybe even a minute, before he set it down and leaned down to cup (Y/n)'s chin. He lifted her head so she was finally looking up at him. Everything was in her eyes. Love, panic and sorrow were swirling around in her eyes like ripples in a lake. All of it flooded her eyes that were already spilling over with tears but when Eddie smiled at her, it made the tears multiply.
She pushed her face back down into his shoulder and looped both arms back around his neck so tightly Eddie could scarcely breathe.
"Hey, hey it's okay." Eddie leant his cheek against the top of (Y/n)'s head and gently started to sway them from side to side.
They had talked about this when they got engaged and again after they got married. They both wanted kids, they had Chris who was like a son to (Y/n), but they still wanted more kids together. Eddie had to make sure it was what (Y/n) wanted and she would be okay if they started trying. After what she had been through, it was normal to be apprehensive and scared.
But they had talked and started trying after they got married. This is the result they had been hoping for, but it was still nerve-wrecking.
"I'm scared." (Y/n) kept her eyes tightly closed and smothered her face into Eddie's shoulder so she wouldn't have to look up at him. The dark voice in the back of her mind told her not to say that, not to say anything at all because the response would be laughter.
At least, it would if she were still with Lewis. He would have told her not to be silly, not to worry and do things right this time and everything would work out.
Instead of laughter or Eddie rolling his eyes and tutting at her or pushing her away, she felt his arms tighten around her. He merged his lips with the top of her head and began gliding his free hand up and down her back. It was okay to be scared, Eddie wouldn't expect anything different.
"That's normal, mi amor. But this is gonna be different; you've got me this time. I'll look after both of you."
***
Tears burned in (Y/n)'s eyes when a searing pain burned in her lower abdomen. She set the knife down before it slipped in her shaky grip and her right hand moved to cradle the underside of her bump while her other hand gripped the counter.
Her back arched out and she leaned forward to see if it would do anything to relieve the tension and take the pain away.
It had been coming and going for a while now. It happened before Eddie left to pick Chris up from school and now they were coming back again. It didn't feel like contractions. (Y/n) had been through that before, it was a different kind of burning, stretching pain whereas this was concentrated and aching.
Was she losing another baby?
If the pains got much worse she would have to try and go to the doctor without alerting Eddie.
This was her body, therefore her mistake. If she was losing another baby then it was down to her to get through it and sort this out. And she didn't want to disappoint Eddie. He had been so happy about this baby. Telling Chris, telling his parents and the team.
He would be more upset than Lewis had been.
When the stillbirth happened with Lewis, he had been distant. He didn't breakdown like (Y/n) did. He didn't lose himself or yearn to have their baby back in his arms. He made it clear he thought (Y/n) was the issue, it was her body that hadn't been able to carry their baby. And it was her depression that resulted from that event.
He didn't want to help her and he made it clear that it was her burden to bear, not his. (Y/n) couldn't tell Eddie she was in pain and burden him with this and make him upset if this was her body losing another baby. She didn't want to know how her husband would look at her. She loved Eddie more than anything; she never wanted to hurt him.
"We're back!"
(Y/n) pushed off the counter and straightened up with such a deep breath that her lungs felt like they were going to burst. She tried to breathe through the uncomfortable pains and push them down as much as she could so she could continue making dinner.
Her nails scratched into the handle of the knife to stop it shaking in her grip so she could finish chopping the veg.
She swiped her sleeve beneath her eyes, ridding the few loose tears that trickled down her face when she heard Chris hurrying into the kitchen. He always came to find her when he was home from school if she didn't pick him up.
"Hi!" His voice was elevated and playful and (Y/n) sank her teeth into her lower lip which started to bleed to distract her from the pain that became concentrated when Chris hugged her.
He pressed up into her side with his arms around her waist and his cheek meshing into her bump.
"Hey sweetie, good day?" (Y/n) did her best not to groan and to try and level out her voice as she glanced down at him for a moment. But she had to concentrate on chopping the veg so she didn't cut herself or let Chris see the pain hidden within her eyes.
"Yeah, what you cooking?"
"Oh… um- stir-fry." God, her brain didn't seem to be working. It took longer than it should have to remember what she was even trying to do. Chris was the kind of child who would eat anything, and Eddie was much the same. (Y/n) could cook them anything and they would eat it and ask for more. And considering Eddie wasn't the best chef, he was relieved when (Y/n) seemed very happy and eager to cook and embroil Chris into helping every now and then.
She managed a smile when she heard a cheeky "Yay!" pass Chris's lips but she had to smother a groan when he squeezed her tight again before he let her go. It was clear that (Y/n) was already halfway through making tea and therefore Chris knew he didn't or rather shouldn't chip in. (Y/n) was in the swing of things already.
She was glad when she heard Chris trot off down the hall; it meant she didn't have to try and put on a brave face when she didn't need to. She heard him head into his bedroom, it was routine for him to go and get changed out of his school clothes and wind down by watching tv or playing a video game in his room before tea.
"Hey baby,"
Eddie's hand curved around her hip and his lips smothered the back of her head as he pressed up behind her. He peered over her shoulder, clearly trying to see what she was cooking up. The feeling of his lips against her cheek was comforting and somewhat distracting from the uneasy, concentrated bouts of pain she was experiencing.
(Y/n) leaned back into Eddie's touch so he would know she wasn't ignoring him and she felt another kiss against her neck before he slid to the right to put the kettle on.
Her hands shook as she finished chopping the veg and turned to try and find a frying pan. It pained her to crouch down to search through the kitchen cupboards and her stomach ached when she creased forward with her thighs pressing into her abdomen.
One hand clenched around the countertop to steady herself and the other found the pan she needed, but she barely had the energy to lift it up.
Eddie glanced over to the left and his brows furrowed when he noticed (Y/n)'s stance. Crouched down, leaning into the cupboard, but without moving. It looked like she had gone into some kind of trance. He waited a moment with his head tilted to one side until he watched her slowly reel back up and dump the pan on the counter with a thud.
When she stood back up again, her head lolled forward and spots danced before her eyes.
Another pain rocketed through her stomach like lightning and it made (Y/n)'s hands tighten on the counter until her nails were scratching along the dark marble surface and her elbows started to shake from being locked in place to try and hold her up.
"Baby… you okay?" Eddie set the kettle down and looked back over in (Y/n)'s direction.
He didn't like the way she was pushing forward with her head angled down and her arms quivering like she was frozen cold.
His voice didn't reach (Y/n)'s ears. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool and a horrible whirling noise was ringing through her ears like she had suddenly gone deaf. It was too much effort to keep herself leaning forward on her arms that were like matchsticks about to break. And when a blinding pain tore through her abdomen, all the tension left (Y/n)'s body as her mind seemed to shutdown and restart itself all at once.
"Oh- shit!"
Eddie's ankle rolled the wrong way when he jerked to the left the moment he watched (Y/n)'s knees cave in. His knees locked once he was three steps forward and his arms bolted around (Y/n)'s waist, catching her before she had chance to hit the floor.
He hated how her head folded over his arm like her neck had snapped and he could feel every limb go loose like she was a puppet whose strings had just been cut.
His hands grappled at her waist and he bent his left leg forward so his knee was pressed into the back of (Y/n)'s thighs to keep her leaning on him. He pulled her into his chest and made sure she was secured in his left arm so he could curl his right arm across her front and cradle the back of her neck to tilt her head up.
"(Y/n)? (Y/n)… come on," It wasn't often that Eddie found himself saying her name, he said it about as much as he said his own name, which was a rarity.
Relief overwhelmed every one of his senses when he felt her head try and move in his grip and he reeled her closer to his chest so he could go down on his knees with her. He made sure she was sat on the floor with her legs bent properly and he rested the back of her head on his shoulder, moving behind her so he was propping her up.
His left arm stayed cocooned around her waist while he curled his right hand into a fist and began rubbing his knuckles up and down her sternum to bring her back around.
Relief bubbled up inside Eddie's chest when (Y/n) tried to tilt her head to the right until her temple brushed against his chin. He took a moment to press his lips to her forehead, but his brows furrowed and he pulled back so he could move his hand from her sternum to press against her forehead.
She was burning up. And when he watched her slowly start to restart her system and come back around, he realised she was trembling against him.
His hand moved to cradle her face and he brushed his thumb across her cheek while he tilted her head forward and looked down, assessing whether her pupils were dilating and adjusting to the light properly or not.
It took him by surprise how strong and sudden (Y/n)'s grip was when she clenched her hand around his wrist and she shuddered in his arms as she tried to push forward to sit up on her own. But Eddie tensed his arm around her waist and eased her back against his chest. There was no rush, she didn't have to sit up and move about right away.
"Take it easy," He murmured against her temple, but his chest hardened and he sucked in a deep breath. The way (Y/n) was tensing and twitching told him something was wrong; she was in some kind of pain.
He took another look up and down her frame, but he couldn't see any injury or outward signs of pain.
"Baby? Baby, talk to me, what hurts?"
"N-no, I'm okay, it's o-okay,"
(Y/n) clenched her hand around Eddie's wrist and tried again to sit forward and this time, Eddie shuffled up behind her to prop her up a bit better. Her free hand moved down to grip her thigh so she had something else to focus on and some sense of control while her stomach tensed and ached and throbbed like she had been hit with a bat.
"What, no this isn't okay you're not well. Talk to me." Her words confused him. Why was she trying to tell him she was fine when Eddie had just witnessed her collapse? What good was lying to him going to do? It wasn't going to calm him down when he knew something was wrong and she wasn't talking to him.
Tears welled up in her eyes and she shook her head like she was trying to dismiss the subject, but she didn't have the will to move out of Eddie's arms just yet. And he was holding her too tightly for her to even think about moving away from him.
Another crippling pain twinged in her stomach and (Y/n) couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath and her stomach pulled in. She tried not to make it noticeable when she moved her hand up along her thigh until she could press it against the base of her stomach, trying in vain to make the pain go away.
She didn't want Eddie to see her in pain. She didn't want him to know that something might be wrong. This was her body therefore her fault if something went wrong or happened to the baby.
Eddie saw.
He saw the way she tensed and the flash of pain that danced across her face and the moment he noticed her hand moving to her stomach, he sighed and tilted his head back.
"Chris, go get in the car we're heading out." His voice hollered down the hall before he moved his hands to grip either side of (Y/n)'s waist.
"Eddie, no-"
"You've just collapsed and I know something's causing you pain. We're going to the hospital."
"I'll go, y-you stay with Chris."
Again, her words confused him and Eddie's lips pulled into a dark frown as the end of his nose scrunched up. Why was she trying to push him away? Why wouldn't she admit she wasn't well and just let Eddie help her? He wasn't going to stay home worrying and let her make her own way to the hospital.
"I don't think so." The deep tone in his voice made (Y/n) advert her gaze and lower her head. "Chris can stay with Abuela, and I'm staying with you."
Tears welled up in (Y/n)'s eyes and began to trickle down her face before she leaned forward and smothered her hands against her face. If Eddie came with her and something went wrong, she would see. (Y/n) would see his disappointment or worse still, she would break and crumble while Eddie had to witness it.
This was her burden to bear, this was something she was supposed to do alone, not something to upset and bother Eddie with.
She leaned forward with her elbows pressing into her waist but she whimpered when she felt Eddie's lips attaching to the back of her head and his chest moulded over her back. Why was he being so understanding? Why did she feel so guilty?
***
(Y/n) leaned her head to the right as her eyes focused in on her stomach and her hands began feathering up and down her bump like she was drawing patterns into her skin.
Somehow, it didn't feel right. It didn't seem to ring true in her ears that for now, everything was okay. At least, everything was under control. The pains had continued when Eddie brought her down to the emergency room after they dropped Chris off with his Abuela who was rather eager to have him stay with her for company.
When she got checked over and taken for an ultrasound, part of (Y/n) believed history would be repeating itself. Of course, it had been different last time. She had gone into labour with no pre-warning signs and nothing had been wrong before that day.
But she thought that these pains were the start of something bad. That maybe there wouldn't be a heartbeat when they got the ultrasound or they would be told that she had to have the baby now for some medical emergency.
(Y/n) hadn't expected to be told that the baby was okay, and she'd suffered a placental abruption. Which meant bedrest from now on because they were only twenty-seven weeks, and (Y/n) needed to get to thirty-five weeks so the baby wouldn't be premature and they had much better odds of everything turning out fine.
Her fingers continued to dance over her shirt and she stroked her thumb over the spot where she felt the baby kicking a few minutes ago.
But her head lifted and she froze when she watched Eddie walk back into the room.
"Is Chris okay?" Her voice sounded oddly meek and nimble and she could barely keep her eyes on Eddie.
He looked rattled, and not because of the phone call he'd just made to his Abuela to check she was okay to have Chris for the night so Eddie could stay here with (Y/n). He didn't want to go home and leave her on her own for twenty four hour observation. Not when she had been acting strangely and he could see she was taking this news in a different way than he was. There was something upsetting her and Eddie didn't want to leave her.
But as (Y/n) watched him walk over to her, she almost felt worried. His expression was almost blank, except for the concentrated look in his eyes and the colour rushing to his cheeks. His jaw was locked tight with the muscles popping at the tip of his jaw, level with his ears.
"He's happy to have a sleepover." Eddie tucked his phone into his back pocket and closed the door behind him before he advanced towards the bed.
He grabbed the chair from the corner of the room and dragged it across so he could sit down as close to the bed as humanly possible. Until his knees were pressing into the metal bedframe. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands together tightly beneath his chin while his head angled up in (Y/n)'s direction.
"Alright baby, spill."
"W-what?"
"Something's wrong here, you're not telling me something so please start explaining."
Eddie wasn't stupid and he wasn't going to sit and pretend that this was okay when there was clearly something playing on (Y/n)'s mind. He wanted to know what was wrong and this was the perfect opportunity since they had a while to sit here in observation. Especially since Chris wasn't around to listen in, they could have a clear conversation.
When he didn't get a response, Eddie straightened up and shifted his hands to start running them up and down his thighs instead.
"Come on baby, why didn't you tell me you didn't feel well? How long were you in pain for?" If she wasn't going to start then Eddie would strike up the conversation and ask the questions he needed the answers to.
He didn't like the way (Y/n) wouldn't look over at him. she kept her head tilted down and continued to trace her hands up and down her stomach like it was a way to stay calm and soothe herself.
"I thought… I didn't-" The right words didn't seem to be coming to mind and each explanation (Y/n) tried to come up with made her cringe.
"You thought what, that I didn't need to know?" Confusion flooded Eddie's voice as he tried to fill in the gaps, but he wasn't understanding.
"No, that you- I don't know, you might not…"
"Care?"
Something horrid twisted in Eddie's stomach when (Y/n) nodded. He could feel bile rising at the back of his throat and his face completely fell while his shoulders dropped down like he had suddenly lost all composure as if his bones had turned to jelly.
How could she think that? How could she think that her being in pain or having complications with the baby wouldn't make Eddie panic? How could she think that he wouldn't care about something as dire and important as that?
"What did I do, to make you think I wouldn't care?" His voice was quiet and the broken tone to his words made (Y/n) cringe and had tears freely falling down her face.
"It's my job to look after the baby, I didn't- I didn't do that last time. Lewis wasn't- he was disappointed, in me, when I lost them. He didn't care, like I did." It was hard to explain when (Y/n) didn't know how to put it into words that would make sense; words that Eddie would understand when she didn't even comprehend it fully.
(Y/n) was the one carrying the baby. She was the one who was supposed to protect them and nurture them and if something went wrong, that was her fault. It was down to her to sort it or deal with the aftermath, it was on her, not Eddie.
That was the way she thought about it because that was the way it had been last time. That was the only experience (Y/n) had to compare this to.
"He didn't care, like at all? He didn't help you through that?" Eddie scraped the chair closer as if he was afraid he wouldn't be able to hear her answer.
The way she shook her head and kept her eyes on her stomach made Eddie's lips falter into a hollo, gaping expression. What kind of person was her ex to let her suffer through that alone? How could he not care that (Y/n) had been struggling? How could he not care enough that he'd lost his own child, that (Y/n) had lost something so precious and close to her?
"I said it was my fault, and he agreed. He brushed it off, said I… I couldn't even keep a baby. I felt so bad, Eddie, I wanted my baby, but he-"
He didn't seem bothered.
That was the only way (Y/n) could comprehend and remember the situation.
Lewis had been the type who didn't fuss if (Y/n) had ever been sick or ill or if she hurt herself. He never took care of her, not in the way Eddie had. And when she had complications and lost the baby, it didn't seem to make an impact on him. He barely held her through that experience, he didn't console her, he was distant like it wasn't his job or something he wanted to do to help (Y/n) through that.
(Y/n) had been in a dark place and one day when she cried and said that she felt like it was her fault she lost the baby, Lewis agreed.
He said he believed that too and he let (Y/n) dwell and go further down that rabbit hole until she was completely shrouded in darkness.
He made her feel unworthy of everything; of comfort, of love, even affection.
"I didn't tell you, a-about the pains, I thought that was down to me to deal with. I thought I'd let you down," Tears ran down the bridge of her nose and soaked her cheeks. "I didn't know y-you'd worry."
"You- Christ," Eddie knotted his fingers in his hair and gave a few sharp tugs on each strand until his scalp burned and it distracted him from the way his vision was blurring with his own tears that began to fall.
She didn't think he would worry.
She honestly believed that despite how Eddie had tried to show her how much he loved her and how happy he was about the baby, she believed he wouldn't care. Her ex had done that much damage and brainwashing to her to make her think that anyone else she was with also wouldn't give her their affection or their time and love.
"I'm not w-worth much, if I can't even have a baby." She cried harder when Eddie's hand was suddenly enveloped around hers and when he pressed her knuckles to his lips, she started to tremble.
"That's not true. Before you got pregnant, you were still worth the world to me, and to Chris."
"I'm sorry-"
"No, no (Y/n) I'm not looking for an apology here." Eddie pushed up off the chair so he could sit down on the side of the bed and be as close to her as possible. "What he did to you was wrong, you didn't deserve any of that. I thought I made it clear how much you and this baby mean to me."
(Y/n) closed her eyes and leaned her cheek into Eddie's touch when his hand cradled the side of her face. She gripped his wrist and leaned forward until she could smother her face in his shirt. She didn't want to look up and see the tears in his eyes, but she wanted Eddie as close as she could get him right now.
Both her hands shifted so she could scrunch his shirt up in her palms and she almost whimpered when she felt his lips merging with the top of her head.
"If you're not well, I expect you to tell me because I care. I care so fucking much about both of you. This is our baby," He felt the way (Y/n) shivered when one hand cupped the back of her neck and the other moved down to cradle her stomach. "And you, mi amor, are so important to me."
He traced his thumb up and down her bump while he spoke each word against her temple since her cheek was now tucked up against his shirt like she was listening to his heart to check that it was beating out a rhythm especially for her.
If Eddie had to tell (Y/n) every day for the rest of his life just how much she meant to him and how much he loved and valued her, then that's what he would do. He would tell her until she believed him and then he would keep telling her so she wouldn't dare forget.
Eddie didn't truly know what she had gone through with her ex, but he knew that this relationship was different. He loved every part of (Y/n) and he valued her higher than anything in the world. And he loved this baby too. She had to understand that Eddie was going to care, probably too much, especially if she wasn't well or something was wrong.
"Look at me," He whispered softly while he cupped her chin to tilt her head up in his direction. "If you're not well, you can't hide that from me. If something's wrong, you tell me, if you're sick, you let me take care of you. You don't do any of this alone, under any circumstance. We're a team, understand?"
(Y/n) wasn't sure she could use her voice anymore so she settled for nodding up at him with the deepest look of love in her eyes.
Her chest felt like it was fit to burst with the amount of adrenaline coursing through her system and her lungs were on fire when Eddie captured her in a kiss and stole every ounce of air from her lungs. She could feel his thumb tracing her chin and across her lower lip and she couldn't help but lean forward into him which made him smile against her lips.
And when she took his hand and pressed his palm to her stomach where she felt a round of kicks, his lips curved into the widest grin she had ever seen.
#imagine#911 imagine#eddie diaz x reader#pregnant! reader#eddie x reader#eddie diaz imagine#eddie diaz
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@professorscrooge:
Additional Propaganda: Satine has raised (or was some kind of parental role to) a nearly model citizen/future politician who wanted to help people, uphold justice, end corruption etc. From what little we see of him, Satine passed her ideals and drive on to Korkie. Jaster trained/traumatised his adopted son into becoming one of the galaxy's biggest war criminals.
@raspberryzingaaa:
#yeah i dont care im still pro jaster lmfao not sorry #listen you also cant actuallu fully judge what their prowess was bc both had circumstances that were being affected by the sith #satine was only allowed to reign for so long because having a weak mandalore was good for palps #also you cant fully decimate a culture and call it ruling. like not even just the armor but everything alse #and its also very hard to tell what is true based on the cartoons bc were all the mandos blue eyed blonde bc of animation reasons? #bc one of the old mando things was adoption and a broad mix of species. #but yeah we cant really/fully tell bc of the sith influences. but imo i think the guy the sith Really didnt want in power might be best #and i am absolutely not a satine hater. i love her and i repect where shes coming from #but also the rep com books were an influential part of my teenage hood (for better or for worse)
(I did promise to share even the arguments that are based in fanon. Sorry.)
@prankprincess123:
#listen - this is quite possibly an actual political debate that (at least part of) mandalore actually had in canon #cause jaster died just a handful of years before satine came to power and was relevant to the circumstances surrounding such #and in an ideal universe youd have the supercomandos and new-mandalorians finding equal ground #and working together to deal with death watch (who ultimately took down both groups and helped blow up the planet) #but jaster is enough of a mess that he was one of the triggers of the civil war that ultimately put satine in charge #and she took this disaster and turned it into a functional government/culture/system and kept it that way for ~20y #and the only reason it didnt stay functional is because *checks notes* the sith decided they dont like her #like how competent of a ruler must you be for the cult thats been trying to destabilize your rule to turn to evil wizards for help #and how much of a widespread force for good must one be to have an evil wizard cult decide that you specifically need to die #satine should win by a landslide
@ironborealis:
#Mereel's reforms were the stepping stones to Satine's succesful rule #But his vision was too small #Satine and Mereel BOTH struggled with corruption inside their ranks #The way she tears off on a speeder to rescue Kenobi in her first episode? #Satine isn't afraid of a fight #she just wants to prevent unnecessary conflicts #some of y'all don't understand the philosophies of nonviolence at all #Satine can be as ruthless as any other Mando #She will not hesitate to fuck someone up #She literally burned a fucking warehouse full of evidence because she wanted to send a message that corruption was not tolerated
FINALE - You might want to read the propaganda this time. Lots of misinfo in fandom on these two in particular.
Remember, this is NOT about who would win in a fight. This is about who makes the best leader for Mandalore as a whole.
Explanation post
Seeding
Propaganda below the cut! You can submit more on this post and I will reblog it back to here! I was going to keep the text-only bits above the readmore, but we got enough in that it takes up more space than I thought.
Yes, I will even reblog the stuff based on fanon, but I will judge you for it.
SATINE KRYZE
Anon: Satine because she served. Mandalorian fashion week would love her. Manda'slay.
Anon: Satine Propaganda: Was supported by the STRONG MAJORITY, led Mandalore to be in peace for NEARLY 20 YEARS, didn't ban mando'a or armour or any part of the culture like fandom claims, is a good fighter, considered EVERY Mandalorian a Mandalorian and didn't discriminate
@lightsaberwieldingdalek: Satine propaganda: she actually ran a functioning government. Not a mercenary band, or a death cult, or a terrorist extremist organisation, an actual functioning government. Yes there was corruption, corruption she did her best to stop to the point of personally getting in firefights with smugglers, but she took a planet devastated by civil war and by the end of her rule she had schools, public works, and a justice system. - Sure, the rest can run military operations (and we don’t know Satine couldn’t, only that she *won’t*) but can they make the bins get emptied regularly to go to the recycling plants?
@lightsaberwieldingdalek: I understand Jaster has the tacticool appeal, and has the iconic armour, but guys. He did an interpretation of some problematic historical values for the more modern day, led a mercenary band, and under unknown circumstances his group started calling him the historical-cultural title of the ruler of their entire cultural group. I know he’s cool looking, and shoots real good, but at most he’s the equivalent of someone who could be a cult leader but doesn’t want to be. - Meanwhile. Satine. You have issues with her ethical code, and she’s not a cool cause she doesn’t wear the armour. And yet she is the one who *actually ran mandalore*. For 20-ish years, and not only kept it stable but built it up from the ruins of civil war! - Yes yes T-helmet cool and military man competence nice, but that cannot equal taking the ruins of a war torn society and turning it into a mostly peaceful (when terrorism happened it was a big shocking deal, not normalised) urbanised people who eat well, have access to luxury and specialised education (get a offworld Jedi to come lecture) and can ACTUALLY BREATH IN THE ATMOSPHERE RUINED BY ALL THE WARLORDS LIKE JASTER TRYING TO FIGHT THE REPUBLIC TO PROVE THEMSELVES.
Anon: Satine propaganda: she knows what the aftermath of war is like. Jaster knows war from a soldier's perspective, a commander's perspective. But Satine knows it from a noncombatant's perspective. She's seen the aftermath and wreckage it leaves behind. Rebuilding after a war takes far longer and likely costs more than the war itself. I don't think Jaster cares about what happens after the battle. But Satine most certainly does.
@archangelsunited: Efficient and long lasting leader of her faction for years, was able to navigate neutrality with the Republic during the Clone Wars. Excellent Hair pieces.
@publiusmaximum: She allowed her society to experience it's first moment of peace and prosperity in a thousand years. - After she was killed, her society was taken over by fascists and gangsters. In short order Mandalore was razed, made uninhabitable, and her people scattered. - Satine was right about everything.
JASTER MEREEL
Anon: Jaster is the one who should rule Mandalore and all Mandalorians, although he started small he searched to make a new code of conduct for Mandalorian bounty hunters, he tries to keep the culture intact yet keep Mandalore progressive and not stuck in the past and from killing each other.
@spacetime1969: He literally rewrote what it means to be Mandalorian, and he created an entire movement around said philosophy that had a good chance of becoming the controlling party of Mandalore if he hadn't been assassinated. What more do you want?
Anon: Jaster for the win, he's the most recent one who actually knows some shit (as much as I love Din Djarin this poor man doesn't know ANYTHING), besides Jango and Boba but they're both very unstable individuals.
@nerdpickle: Jaster, his philosophy perfectly balanced tradition and reform, keeping the best of both worlds, he was also one of the few people chosen by the people
Mereel is a strong and powerful leader. He defeated the traiter Tor Viszla in battle and even took in a poor, orphaned Concordian child after the battle. No more will Mandalore be forced to consider such petty ideals as peace in order to avoid outright war. Instead, we shall be known throughout the galaxy as the greatest mercenaries the galaxy has ever known. Under his rule, we shall triumph over the foolish savages of planets unconquered and be paid handsomely for it!
Anon: Mereel is a strong and powerful leader. He defeated the traiter Tor Viszla in battle and even took in a poor, orphaned Concordian child after the battle. No more will Mandalore be forced to consider such petty ideals as peace in order to avoid outright war. Instead, we shall be known throughout the galaxy as the greatest mercenaries the galaxy has ever known. Under his rule, we shall triumph over the foolish savages of planets unconquered and be paid handsomely for it!
@archangelsunited: Had a structured document for Mandalorian Culture in the modern (tm) day. He fought with the warriors he sent out and took personal interest in the results of his actions (Jango Fett mentorship). Pissed off Tor Vizla.
@nerdpickle: Satine’s Mandalore was like Switzerland, except without the well trained military, incredibly advantageous terrain, high gun ownership and giant nuclear armed alliance providing a free buffer zone on all sides.
SATINE
@bosooka: Originally here
i wrote way too much for my original draft of this (and it turned into a "fuck jaster mereel" party) so here's an abbreviated version
Why Satine is a Better Ruler Than Jaster in 2 Simple Points
Point #1: Satine actually maintained order on Mandalore for decades
This one is simple. Mereel became Mandalore in ~60BBY and Tor Vizsla tried to overthrow him a mere two years later (and nearly succeeded). He was only in power for six more years before he was betrayed by the very same violent people he allowed to remain by his side because of his belief that a Mandalorian warrior was "merely a highly-paid soldier".
Contrast Satine: ruled from approx. 42BBY until 19BBY, a reign of 23-odd years. For twenty-odd years of her reign New Mandalore was completely peaceful and there were no challengers to her authority among the people or elsewhere. Death Watch only became an issue again when they received Separatist (and ultimately Sith) backing, and Dooku discarded them for being useless. Had Death Watch not allied itself with Maul's Shadow Collective I don't think she would have been overthrown at all.
Point #2: Satine kept Mandalore out of places it didn't belong
As we've established, Mereel had no issues with Mandalorians being mercenaries, used however their clients saw fit. I won't go into the weeds of the ethical implications of mercenaries and why they are illegal under international law on Earth, but in short: letting anyone pay one to kill others is the easiest way to become the cudgel of a fascist. Coincidentally exactly what the Fett clones become when Sidious uses them to exterminate the Jedi. Mereel's "reforms" of the Mandalorian ways did not prevent his troops from getting into a fight they couldn't win against the Jedi on Galidraan (and yes, the Mandalorians shot first:
not that anyone in the fandom remembers this...) after they but an insurrection down on behalf of the corrupt governor of the planet. To be clear, the True Mandos knew that the governor of Galidraan was corrupt and most likely harboring Tor Vizsla, but they still agreed to kill "insurrectionists" for money. Their problems came when Death Watch arranged to make it look like they had also killed women and children. Truly a war between saints and monsters.
Meanwhile Satine: the head of the Council of Neutral Systems, she refused to take sides in a war pushed by the greedy and violent. Yes, she was briefly protected by clones when it comes to light that Death Watch is aligned with the Separatists, but it was immediately followed by the Republic attempting to militarily occupy Mandalore and Satine risking life and limb to keep her people autonomous. Satine refused to become a useful idiot for warmongers, even knowing that it would have been economically advantageous for her to do so. Unlike Jaster Mereel, she has ideals that she values more than credits. He would have accepted an offer from the highest bidder and turned Mandalore into a machine of war for the Sith, just like his Crusader ancestors once did.
Tl;Dr
Satine was actually respected as an authority on Mandalore for literal decades and was only challenged by a miniscule faction of terrorists who had to get foreigners to interfere in their political processes (FML) in order to actually take power from her
Satine kept Mandalore out of conflicts it did not belong in, which largely protected it from military occupation and destruction until the year she died; Mereel made a career out of interfering in the affairs of other planets if they were paid to do so
Unlike Mereel and his successor, Satine had morals to motivate her decisions that were not the pursuit of cold hard cash, including the protection of Mandalorian independence and neutrality
#tumblr tournaments#satine kryze#jaster mereel#mandalore#tumblr brackets#sw events#polls#sw legends#the clone wars#star wars#open seasons#sw comics
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Holding On
WARNING: This definitely counts as spoiler for act 3.
Summary: Jinx thinks she too far gone, but you think exactly the opposite.
Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader
Wordcount: 829
Authors note: I decided to cope with writing so I'm back guys :)
masterlist
The air was thick with tension, the faint hum of the explosives making everything feel heavier. Jinx stood in the center of the room, her body trembling with the weight of her thoughts. The bomb was in her hands—its cruel, ticking countdown echoing through her head, matching the frantic pace of her heartbeat.
She looked at the device, her eyes wild with something darker than madness. Her fingers were just inches away from pulling the trigger. The detonator. The end. She could feel it. The destruction. The chaos.
But there was something else too. Something so faint, you almost missed it—a desperation that even Jinx couldn't hide.
You didn’t know how you got here, only that you had to get to her before it was too late. Your heart pounded in your chest as you rushed into the room, your eyes locking onto her figure.
"Jinx!" you called, your voice strong, breaking through the sound of the countdown. She didn't look up. Not at first.
"Don't even think about it," you said, your voice sharper now, cutting through the tense silence that had surrounded her. You knew you were running out of time.
Her head snapped up, her eyes filled with something you couldn't read, a whirlwind of anger, pain, and confusion. The bomb was still in her hands, her fingers trembling, but she didn’t move.
"You think you can stop me?" she whispered, her voice hoarse, raw. "You think I care?"
You took a step closer, your hands raised in a gesture of caution, but your resolve was unwavering. "I care, Jinx. I care more than you know. But this… this isn't you."
Her lips curled into a bitter smile, but her eyes betrayed her. They were glassy, unfocused. "Who else am I supposed to be, huh?" The words were jagged, broken, just like her. "I’ve lost everyone. I don’t even know who I am anymore."
"You're Jinx," you said, your voice softening as you took another step forward. "You're the girl I… I can’t lose, not like this." You swallowed, your heart aching with every word you spoke. "Please, put the bomb down."
For a long moment, she just stood there, her face unreadable, as though trying to make sense of the chaos in her mind. Then she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, but you heard it clearly.
"You’ve been the best girlfriend… the best person in my life. You know that, right?" Her hand trembled, but she didn't pull away. Her eyes didn’t meet yours as she spoke, but you could see the hint of something breaking in her gaze. "I’m sorry… but I don't think I can keep going like this. I don't know how much more of me you can take."
"Jinx, no…" you breathed, stepping closer, your heart pounding as the weight of her words hit you.
"You deserve someone who can be whole," she continued, her voice cracking, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "You deserve someone who can… stay. I don’t even know who I am anymore. But you—" She stopped, shaking her head, a faint laugh escaping her lips, bitter and broken. "You were everything. Thank you. Thank you for everything."
"Don’t you dare," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Don’t you dare say goodbye. Not like this."
Her hand tightened on the detonator again, her fingers almost convulsing, but she was silent, the look in her eyes telling you more than any words could.
You couldn’t let her go, not like this.
“Please, Jinx,” you whispered desperately, your voice barely audible. "I need you. I love you. I can’t lose you. You don’t have to do this. You’re worth so much more than all of this. We’ll figure it out together. Please."
She looked at you then, her lips trembling, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. The bomb in her hand felt like nothing compared to the weight of the emotion that filled the room. She slowly lowered the detonator, her hands shaking as she clutched it loosely, a faint tremble passing through her.
"I'm too far gone," she said, barely above a whisper, her voice breaking. "But maybe... maybe I still have something left. I can't leave you alone"
You reached for her then, slowly, gently. She didn't flinch as you took her hand in yours, her fingers cold but now gripping you back, even if just a little.
"I can't let you go," you said softly, your voice trembling but firm. "Please... don't leave me like this."
For the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself lean against you, her body trembling. The bomb was still in her hand, but she wasn’t holding onto it anymore.
"I don't deserve you," she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
And for once, there was no chaos. Just the fragile thread of connection between you, something both of you clung to as if it could mend the broken pieces. "You deserve everything," you murmured, your voice steady and sure. "And I’ll be here to remind you of that, every step of the way."
#jinx arcane#jinx x reader#jinx x y/n#arcane jinx#jinx/you#jinx x fem!reader#jinx posting#jinx league of legends#jinx lol
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Hello there! I have to say, I really, really, REALLY LOVE your Kindergarten au. Little Yanderes as noisy children and MC as a Teacher who is not being paid enough XD.
Feel free to ignore if it's uncomfortable for you!
This is my first time asking so sorry if I am bothering you, But how will the mini yanderes react if they were kissed in the lips, not in a romantic way but like a parent showing love and care <3
how Mini!Yanderes react when MC kisses them¡!
A/N; even if MC kissed them like a parent the yanderes would hear wedding bells so JASHJHSAJS also the thought of an adult kissing a child on the lips is a bit weird to me so i will change it to kisses on cheek or forehead. i was listening ddlc soundtrack to write this AND SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG
Pairing(s); "Mini!Yanderes" and GN!Reader
CW; this is actually fluff / need to remark MC just see the little yans as kids they need to take care of, no one has special treatment
Sunny Day Jack.
Jack would be the one to take the initiative, in this case, the first time he kissed MC's cheek would have been during the school photo.
Early spring, all the children had arrived well-groomed to the classroom, MC finished combing John Doe's hair while the professional photographer adjusted his camera in position, the children moved from one side to the other, except Jack.
Jack finished adjusting his bowtie, very dedicated to being the most handsome child in the photo.
Finally MC gathered them all in different rows, placing themselves behind in the center.
"I will only take it once so if you need to go to the bathroom or sneeze do it now." Said the cameraman in a listless voice, no one had any protests or urgency so he raised his hand, specifically 3 fingers.
"Three… Two… One." A flash of photography dazzled them, the curious little ones ran towards the man to be able to appreciate the photograph.
And then they saw in the photo how Jack had jumped and pulled his teacher's arm to kiss their cheek, causing several students to immediately cry.
As for Jack's reaction:
He considers himself a winner, he probably looks for other ways to ask for kisses since MC is quite open about giving affection to his students, nothing too overwhelming.
Can't stop thinking about their future as a married couple.
A manipulative bastard will surely fake accidents or work twice as hard on his tasks to get that reward.
John Doe.
John Doe is a student who needs sensitivity, but don't give him too many kisses on the forehead or you'll overwhelm him.
A day like any other, the class activity required flour and water, something simple to mold and non-toxic since many of the students love to put things in their mouths, so full of curiosity.
MC finished helping everyone create their mixtures, Keith finished making flowers with his dough while Tenebris ate it.
The children learned and had fun, it was comfortable.
Until some sobs made the teacher run to where a little long-haired boy, John Doe, who couldn't stop crying, the dough had gotten stuck in his hair.
Of course, prepared for any occasion, MC took the little boy to the bathroom to wash off all the dough, which fortunately wasn't as sticky as the time Peter put gum in Mycheal's hair.
"There you go, see? Simple, are you okay, Doe? Don't cry, everything is fixed now." MC comforted their student with hugs and coos, kissing Doe's forehead.
"Again?" He asked with those huge eyes full of tenderness, MC gave more kisses on her student's forehead, who asked for more and more between laughs.
They had to stop when they realized that Doe was convulsing with happiness on the floor, it did scare them.
As for Doe's reaction:
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
He reacts in an exaggerated way, with adorable and loud giggles, hugs, red cheeks, his happiness is evident.
He is like a cat with dilated pupils and he scares MC.
Alan Orion.
Great project for class! Alan and his mom drew a picture of the solar system and he was in an astronaut suit, he didn't learn half of the names of the planets but it was enough to get a kiss.
The theme for that day was to draw a picture of things they want to do when they grow up, Alan carried his drawing to the board while holding it up over his head.
"I'm going to be an astronaut and walk in the stars!" he commented proudly.
"Very good, Alan, come here." MC called him over to place a star-shaped sticker on his drawing.
Alan tilted his head towards the teacher, subtly indicating what he wanted and of course the teacher didn't deny it, kissing the little boy's head.
As for Alan's reaction:
He loves praise, especially from his favorite teacher, and will keep a smile on his face for the rest of the day.
He will seek further validation from MC in other aspects.
Whenever he finishes a new activity he points his head up in anticipation of kisses.
Peter Dunbar.
One day he got sick and didn't got a kiss like everyone else.
Peter was confused, why were his classmates laughing at him while he sat in his spot?
Jack walked over with his arms crossed and a grin from ear to ear.
"Yesterday teacher MC gave us all a kiss." he said mockingly.
Of course Peter immediately ran crying to the teacher to get a kiss on the forehead.
As for Peter's reaction:
He was so upset with himself for getting sick and with the others for getting a kiss before him, he cried for 2 hours.
He asked MC for many make-up kisses, which led to the others asking for a kiss as well.
Peter bit and kicked the ones who came up to ask for a kiss, and ended up being punished.
Ren.
You don't need to be good at naming colors or good at sports when you're smart to win.
Play in the garden! All the kids were very excited, especially Ren, who got the lead role, he was a prince, surely that would delight MC, he had rehearsed so much to be the perfect prince.
The play was pretty simple, he had to dance with a girl and although that wasn't in his plans he couldn't push her off the stage or MC would think he wasn't chivalrous.
The exact minute after the play ended Ren snatched the crown from the girl's head and ran after MC.
"Teacher! Teacher! I have something for you, can I put it on you?" He asked batting his eyelashes.
MC didn't wonder where the other crown came from, they assumed the girl gave it to Ren since… Well, it's Ren. The teacher knelt down with a smile and bowed their head to allow the little boy to place the crown.
They were surprised with a tender kiss on the lips, making them gasp and quickly get up, the crown was on their head... but Ren had stolen a kiss from them!
The little boy was blushing, so happy that he couldn't stop giggling.
It was a shame that there were so many eyes looking at him with great anger at that moment.
As for Ren's reaction:
He was so happy, how could he not be? He had beaten all those losers in the classroom
He made enemies but he tries to maintain a good reputation with MC
The bad thing is that he couldn't steal more kisses from MC because now his teacher was more careful when he was around.
Mycheal.
Flowers are pretty but you are not allowed to pick them from the school garden.
It was early in the morning, not all the children had arrived yet to start class, MC arranged their notebooks and prepared the lesson for that day, while Mycheal walked through the garden looking for flowers to give to his teacher.
He knew that was not allowed but the best flowers were always there, since MC watered the plants every day, so considerate!
Finally he reached the rose bush, that was always dangerous because many times he tried to take them because of how beautiful they were but it hurt a lot, the thorns were terrible.
But today he would do it! A little pain was nothing compared to his teacher's laughter.
The little blond crouched in front of the bush and held a couple of roses, taking a deep breath when the thorns embedded themselves in his skin and he began to pull.
Harder and harder until his body fell on his back, tears came out of his eyes but he smiled when he saw a pair of red roses in his hands.
"Teacher! Teacher! Look what I made for you!" He was so proud of his bouquet that he was unable to see MC's worried face.
"Mycheal, you know you shouldn't pick flowers from the garden… Come, let's put them in a vase and heal your hands." MC said, taking the little boy's little hands to give kisses to his palms, which were bleeding a little because of the thorns.
As for Mycheal's reaction:
Mycheal learned to use gloves to pick flowers, but he can't do it anymore or he'll get punished.
Now he gets into fights on purpose to get kisses on his wounds.
He's also gotten kisses thanks to sharing his lunch with MC.
Keith and Tenebris.
Nap time in the garden, but there are always a couple of kids who don't sleep.
All the little ones were resting on the padded floor, covered by blankets after MC read them a story…
All except Keith and Tenebris of course, the twins were sitting near MC, Keith wanted more stories while Tenebris just wanted hugs.
Their teacher decided to read the story of "Sleeping Beauty", a simple story with a happy ending, he got to the part where the princess was woken up with a kiss, which gave Tenebris an idea.
The boy stood up and ran straight to the wall, crashing into it and falling to the ground, although he didn't use that much force it did scare MC, who didn't understand why the boy did that.
"Tenebris needs a kiss to wake up." The boy whispered with his eyes closed, waiting for said kiss.
Although ridiculous, it was also adorable so the teacher bent down to kiss the little boy's forehead.
"Me too! Me too!" Keith whimpered, clinging to his teacher's arm before receiving a kiss on his forehead.
As for Keith and Tenebris's reaction:
They discovered that they will get more affection if they make a truce, both asking for kisses at the same time to get double the affection.
They also both ask for kisses from MC behind the other's back.
Now they always try to stay awake during nap time, so the other students won't bother MC.
Solivan Brugmansia.
Spring event, it's time to bring out your artistic talents! But not in the case of the teacher.
MC had ordered their students to draw a picture of the things they liked most about spring, a simple activity to celebrate the beginning of spring, they were allowed to use crayons, paints, watercolors, chalk…
"Doe, don't eat the colors!" They ran towards the curious child who was trying to put a color in his mouth.
Being a teacher wasn't easy and although most of his students drove them crazy they had to admit that it was adorable.
Time passed, slowly while the children concentrated, it was strange that there was so much silence but not inopportune, the teacher decided to walk around their students to supervise their work, stopping behind Sol.
He had drawn a garden, it seemed that in the background were the horses and… MC?
The teacher sighed, stroking the boy's head and kissing his cheek, he just hoped that his parents wouldn't come to the festival asking weird questions because of how attached Sol seemed to be to him.
As for Sol's reaction:
He still doesn't understand why his parents worry when he draws his teacher, he loves MC!
Prone to developing praise kink.
His artistic skills would evolve thanks to his obsession with drawing MC, which would lead to more compliments and more kisses, clever, huh?
Damon.
Time to go out and play! Sometimes tears bring good things.
The whole group followed the teacher in a row, like baby ducks following their mother, they were on their way to the playground in the kindergarten, holding hands so as not to get lost of course.
They all made a circle on the field while MC prepared the game for the day, nothing too complicated.
In the end they decided to play soccer, nothing serious, just a bunch of little kids kicking the ball around each other.
It could have been entertaining if it weren't for the fact that Damon kept trying to catch the ball with his mouth, it made some people laugh but MC was worried, the real problem came when Ren tried to kick the ball while Damon was so close to catching it with his teeth.
Fortunately there was no blood but there were tears from little Damon, who cried and cried with his arms up, wanting to be carried by MC.
MC told them to keep playing while they tended to Damon, taking him to the infirmary where they made sure to hold him in their arms and caress his sweet little cheeks so that the swelling would go down.
His teacher kissed his head lovingly.
"There, there, there… Are you feeling better, Damon? It's over, don't worry, but you should know that you shouldn't use your mouth in a game where your legs are used, understood?"
As for Damon's reaction:
He understands that injuries mean kisses and cuddles from MC, prone to getting into fights to get more and then blaming Peter.
He's like a puppy, always rubbing his head against MC for attention.
He asks for kisses every day, if he doesn't get them he'll instantly sob like a pup.
#yandere visual novel#yandere#somethings wrong with sunny day jack#swwsdj#sunny day jack#john doe game#john doe visual novel#john doe#14dwy ren#14 days with you#my dear hatchet man#mycheal#mushroom oasis#duality keith#duality game#duality tenebris#solivan brugmansia#the kid at the back vn#tkatb sol#br0ken colors damon#br<3ken colors#yb peter#your boyfriend game
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Once upon a time Chapter 6
In which Danny has a bad night and Jason is conflicted.
<first> <prev> <next>
“So you know how your friend walks home from GU?” Oracle asked, apropos nothing one night while Jason was mid patrol. The pit had been angry, and Jason was just looking for a fight.
“Now is not the best time to talk about him O,” Jason growled, swinging between buildings just to feel the brief rush of adrenaline from stepping off the roof of a building and falling. Watching the ground rush up to meet him. The pit had been angry over the last half hour, and it was only seeming to get worse.
“Alright. Just thought you’d want to know he is in a 6v1 in the Bowery and B is on his way.” Her tone was nonchalant, with an air of ‘have it your way’ even though he knew she knew he wouldn’t be able to leave it at that.
Jason, to his credit, did not splat on the ground or crash into a wall. But it was a near thing. “What?”
“I thought now wasn’t the best time?” She teased, before sending the location to his visor. “From the looks of things, he’s been trained by someone. Just did a sick Judo throw that would make A proud.”
“Is B going to get there first?”
“Oh yeah.” Jason groaned. It wasn’t going to go well.
“Can’t reroute him?”
“You want to tell him why?” Nope. Abso-fucking-lutely not.
“No”
“There’s your answer.”
Jason groaned again, trying his best to swing faster. The closer he got, the more the pit writhed.
—-
Danny met the eyes of Batman, his grin dropping into a scowl. “Why are you here?” He asked, hands clenching back into fists.
“I came to help.” Batman said, beginning to zip tie the criminals hands.
“Help? Help?” Danny scoffed, kicking a rock towards Batman’s feet. “Now you want to help? I don’t need it anymore.” Danny took a step towards him, finger pointing in his direction menacingly. Batman paused and looked down at him again.
“I am very sorry I did not get here sooner, young man. But-“ Danny stormed towards him, getting into the masked superhero’s face.
“But you’re years late guano-man. I asked. And I asked. And I begged. All you” Danny jabbed him in his armored chest with two fingers, core screaming a litany of -rage-hurt-fear-“sent were those government assholes. You call yourselves heroes up there in that fancy ass tower, with your billionaire’s funding, but the reality is, if someone doesn’t live in one of your protected towns then they’re on their fucking own!” Danny shoved him back, and Batman took a couple steps then looked at something above and behind Danny’s head. He didn’t even have the time to look before Batman spoke.
“Hood, now is not the best time.”
Danny spun then, eyes widening then narrowing. “And you!” He stomped over to Red Hood, jabbing him in the chest for good measure. “Are you following me?! First with the stabbing, and I’m not even in your territory and you’re here! you claim you’re not with this asshole, but you’re here? You-“
Danny stopped himself mouth dropping open and core twisting into -recognition-shock-betrayal-angry- eyes glowing green before he could stop them. “oh this is fucking rich. You are stalking me. Knowing where I live isn’t enough? You have to insert yourself into my fucking life?” He backed away from the two masked vigilantes getting both of them into his eyeline. “None of you, or anyone else in your little justice mafia, ever talk to me or try to help me again.”
Danny backed up, circling until he was clear of both of them. Then once he was far enough away, he broke into a run, turning the corner at the end of the block.
—-
“Fuck.” Jason muttered as he realized he had been found out. Seeing the Lazarus green in Danny’s eyes, feeling the fear, shock, betrayal and anger just rolling off of him, his own pit responding in kind.
“Hey B? It was heavily staticked, so I might be wrong, but did the kid say you sent the government after him?” Oracle asked after a long moment of silence.
“He did.”
“I hate that I even have to ask but…. Did you?”
“No. Is there anything we need people on at present?”
Oracle’s typing was heard in their ears for a moment “No, it doesn’t look like it.”
“Recall everyone from patrol to meet at the cave. We need to go over every inch of this and find out what we’re dealing with.”
Jason was slowly moving his hand toward his grapnel. He needed to process this before anything else. Before he could, an engine revved and the Batmobile was pulling up.
“Hood. In.”
“But-“ Jason began to argue, only for Bruce to shake his head. Batman pointed and Jason felt like he was a kid getting caught stealing tires again. The pit in him demanded he fight back, but after a standoff that he knew felt longer than it was he slid into the passenger seat, door shutting behind him.
“He acted like he recognized you.” Bruce said after getting in himself.
“Yeah.” Jason wasn’t going to be forthcoming just yet he was still trying to process what the fuck just happened.
“Hm.” He could feel every ounce of focus not on the road on him and it rankled.
“Just come out and say it B,” Jason snapped.
“You know what.”
“Maybe I don’t. I’m not a mind reader.”
“Hm.” God he was so much like Damien. The apple fell from that tree and became nestled safely on the next branch down.
Thankfully the conversation was interrupted by the clicks of several people joining the main comm line.
“Hey, I heard the recall.” Dick. Great. Just what he needed. Big brother swooping in. “Everyone have their limbs?”
“Possible compromise situation.” Was the only reply Bruce gave. Jason resisted the urge to slump in his seat like a child being picked up from school for fighting.
“I’ll be in asap.” Dick had to be the responsible first born. Asshole.
“I’m also on about the same time frame. Orphan and I are just handing off a minor robbery.” Spoiler’s voice chimed in.
“Robin and I are en route from the south. Riddler was trying to be clever and we were having fun breaking his riddles before he could even finish his spiel.” Red Robin seemed smug. Really those two were the only ones that found Eddy boy the slightest bit amusing.
“I believe he was considering checking himself back into Arkham he was so frustrated with our prowess.” Damian’s smugness was rolling off him through the comm chat.
There was a little bit of extra chatter as they wrapped up the eta conversation, but Jason was trying to decide if he could dive out of the Batmobile and escape before Bruce could turn around.
As if reading his thoughts, Bruce looked over at him and gave him a look. He knew Oracle was keeping an eye on their route too so driving wasn’t needed to be a focus. Jason frowned and even though the mask hid it, he was sure Bruce knew.
When they got to the cave and parked, Bruce got out and removed the cowl. He stood there, watching as Jason got out, pulling his own helmet off. He could still feel the pit scraping his insides, and looking for an escape. How much was his and how much was Danny’s Jason didn’t know.
“Explain before the others get here.”
Jason turned and walked deeper into the cave, taking his usual spot against the wall. “About a month ago, I interrupted a mugging turned stabbing. Kid ran off with the knife still in him. O gave me basic info and I joined GU to start my threat assessment. He hates Batman and the assorted heroes, hadn’t said why, isn’t fond of Bruce Wayne because he supports the JL financially. Had some potential for becoming a rogue in the future but mostly just wanted to be left alone.”
Bruce gave a hum, settling at the Bat Computer and typing. Not making notes, but looking through the information Oracle had already collected. When Jason didn’t continue, Bruce turned to look at him again.
“Kid was broke. Looked like hell, so I fed him and paid him to catch me up in math. Even though he’s in remedial classes he’s practically at the replacement’s level. He said he had spent most of high school ghosting his classes because they were murder. Seeing his eyes today…. I believe he was being very literal. We…. Became friendly. He did not know who I was until tonight.”
“How did that happen?”
“The pit reacted to him. It… usually does, but not as intensely as tonight. It seems to be tied to his emotional state. He was pissed at you so… What did you do to the kid?”
Bruce sighed. “I’ve never met him before. I think that might be the problem.”
Jason scoffed, standing in silence and staring at Bruce’s tortured expression. Bruce, six foot two slab of muscle, who had just been yelled at by a scrawny young man easily six inches shorter and weighing a hundred pounds less.
Danny had fire, Jason would give him that. Blood pouring from his nose, the start of two black eyes from the break and still facing two masked vigilantes who were known for beating people up, or killing them in Jason’s case, like they were part of the problem.
It was…. It was kind of hot if Jason was being honest. The kind of hot he would openly deny and take to his grave (again).
One by one the different groups joined them in the cave. All in their patrol outfits. All of them staring at Jason and Bruce like they were expecting an announcement of Armageddon beginning.
Once they were all assembled, Oracle popped up on one of the screens.
“So here is what we know.” Bruce began a rundown of the night, starting with Danny getting jumped by some of Scarecrow’s guys and putting them all in their place before yelling at him and recognizing Jason.
Oracle put the cleaned up video of Danny fighting the guys on screen, and if Jason hadn’t thought Danny was hot before…. He would most certainly have now. The way he used his opponents’ weapons and momentum against them? It was beautiful. Danny at one point jabbed a goon in the stomach with one of the batons he stole, then kicked a second goon into him, sending them both sprawling. And the judo throw was nothing short of artistry.
“This is the concerning part.” Oracle zoomed in on Danny’s eyes during the confrontation with Jason. One second they were normal, the next they were very clearly glowing. Jason knew that shade of green too well.
“Have you managed to get any background on him?” Dick asked, eyeing both him and Bruce carefully.
“Only the basics and even then I’m pretty sure it’s doctored. I’ve tried doing reverse image searches on him, both with and without the enhancements I’ve done,” she popped up a side by side of various before and after pictures showing Danny in various states of glitching and the reassembled image from her work. “Every time I try to get anything more I run into this.” She put up what looked to be a standard ‘access required’ page complete with ‘To gain access please call’ and then a number.
“I’ve looked for any sneaky back entrances but they all seem pretty well guarded. I can get in but I would definitely be noticed.” For Oracle to admit that? That was some pretty high tech protection.
“Let’s call the number. Anyone got a burner they don’t want anymore?” Spoiler looked around, holding out her hand. Jason pulled one out of his belt and tossed it to her.
“O, pull my shit off of it?” He asked, planning on transferring all of his more illicit activities to a new number next week anyways.
“Done and done.”
Stephanie dialed and put it on speakerphone. It rang twice then there was the click of the line picking up. “Government Information Warehouse. Please state your name and identification number.”
“Oh my goooood, that asshole!” Stephanie had her high school voice on with just the faintest bit of squeal and complete with twirling her hair around her finger, even though those in the cave were the only ones who could see. “sorry, sorry, not you. I met a really hot guy. Like, hot hot, you know? And I thought we were really vibing. And he gave me his number and I was like, score! But then I call it and I get you! So like, I’m really sorry I won’t call again!” She hung up.
“Well that was disturbing.” From Tim who got an elbow in the ribs from Stephanie. “Steph’s acting aside, what’s our next play B?”
Bruce looked thoughtfully at the screen.
“Let me talk to him.” Jason was speaking before he was even aware of it. “Maybe…. He can explain.”
“He looked like he was a second away from punching you too little wing. You think he’ll talk?”
Jason had no idea. “Fifty fifty. Maybe better if we give him some time to calm down.”
“So long as nothing else happens, you have one week to let him calm down.” Bruce agreed. “The rest of you, stay extra vigilant. Frequent check ins when on patrol, and when away from the manor. Anything abnormal, no matter how small gets reported immediately.” The various bats and birds gave their agreements and started filing up to the manor for whatever food Alfred had laying around no doubt.
Jason stayed, debating going up. He had one week to figure out how he was going to do this.
One week was not a lot of time.
#writing#fanfiction#danny fenton#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#jason todd#red hood#dp x dc crossover#dead on main#batfam
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The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 7
NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: descriptions of anxiety + guilt, piv sex WC: 7.8k AN: hello my darlings!! i am back!!! (from the dead aka first semester of my PhD) i've missed you all so much. this chapter took sooooo long to write because i wanted to get everything just right, but we have now entered phase 2 of the fic, where new shenanigans begin. stay tuned!
Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, [Ch. 7], Ch. 8
Chapter 7: Burning
"Need to talk to you," Anakin blurted out loudly over the music, obviously catching you by surprise based on your empty, blinking face. The guy who was upsettingly close to you shot him a look equal parts murder and possessiveness, and Anakin's lip curled in disgust. His face looked eminently punchable, and Anakin could just imagine the satisfaction of his fist in the guy's cheekbone, or the way he would buckle after one good hit to the stomach.
Somewhere, a rational part of him reminded him that this was not caveman times, and that you had agency and were allowed to make your own choices, but Anakin silenced it. Feeling angry was easier than admitting that it felt like his organs were being torn out when he saw you flirting with anyone else. Thinking about kicking the shit out of some random guy was easier than admitting that knowing you had put this outfit on for someone else, someone other than him, was killing him.
"I--" You began, half-yelling over the noise, then your face twisted into something Anakin couldn't read. Annoyance? Hatred? Pity? "Fine. Let's talk," you finished. The man, who looked like if all the finance bros in the university were merged together into one terrible Pokémon Evolution, scoffed his annoyance, but you ignored him.
Anakin didn't even try to suppress his smugness.
You pushed past the guy, then past Anakin, all the way to the staircase tucked in the corner of the room. He was enchanted, brainless when he followed you. The air got warmer, stickier, and the number of couples making out along the walls increased dramatically. Anakin remembered when that would have been the two of you. That night at TKD. How he wished he could turn back time to that night and just live it in a loop.
Just like then, you were divine in front of him. Your legs climbing the stairs, the gentle sway of your hips that he had fantasized about. He couldn't help it. He'd be noticing these things forever.
You slipped into a bedroom, and it smelled a bit disgusting, but he couldn't care less because he was with you. Anakin closed the door with a decisive thump, then turned to look at you.
You had that look on your face, that one he hadn't puzzled out yet. Your perfect eyebrows were scrunched together, and he could see you swallow hard. He couldn't care less if you hated him. If you pitied him, wanted him gone. At least some small part of you would have still cared. He had prepared a whole speech--telling you how sorry he was. How much he wanted you. That he hadn't felt this way about anyone before, and that he wanted to make you fall for him the same way he'd fallen for you. That he wanted more than whatever the two of you had been. That he wanted to be your boyfriend. Long-term, preferably.
Anakin was ready to get on his knees if he had to.
He opened his mouth to start, but you interrupted him.
"No, I have something to say." The words came out shaky, and dread clawed in his stomach. Were you going to say you wanted him to leave your life? That you had moved on with the finance bro downstairs, who had a trust fund and probably said slurs? That you were excited to never see him again in four months, when you graduated?
Then, you sighed and said something he never would have expected.
"I'm sorry, Anakin."
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It set in later than it should have. Much later.
All throughout finals, you were desperately trying to stop thinking about him. That horrible feeling in your stomach when his face popped into your mind. Which it did, all the time. It was a sticky, terrible pit that opened up whenever something reminded you of him. The lingering smell of him on your pillow. His hatred of orange Skittles. You'd been angry before, but this was different, worse, somehow.
But you pushed it down. Exams mattered more right now. So much more.
Sometimes, the wave of nausea hit you a little too hard, like when you thought about how badly you needed a hug, and how you didn't really want a hug from anyone but him. When it got too hard, you'd leap out of your desk and march to the corner store, just to buy a Red Bull and maybe some chips. Something crunchy, something to puncture the silence of your suddenly suffocatingly empty room.
On the walk through the biting air, you would let yourself think of him. You'd let that pain in your heart blossom, and you'd just pretend you'd said something, anything else. That either of you had made different decisions. That you'd be walking back to your room and he'd be sitting on the bed, giving you that crooked smile, ready to quiz you on fluid dynamics. It was the cold that made your eyes water, you swore.
And then you'd arrive home, and you had to get back to work. Anakin Skywalker was not an allowable topic of thought at any other times. You pulled yourself through finals like a zombie, not letting yourself think beyond the next meal or next exam.
That was not the brightest idea, it turned out, shockingly. When you left your last final, you were blank, empty. You went home and collapsed on your bed, and you finally let yourself imagine his arm wrapped around you as you drifted off.
When your alarm went off at nine PM to remind you to get to the airport, the pit was back. As you stuffed things in your suitcase, then rushed out the door, you felt like there was bile clawing up your throat.
It was a disgusting feeling. You'd been mad in your life, but this was different. It made you want to jump out of your skin just to be free of it.
Around a third of the way through the red-eye plane ride back home, everything was dark and quiet, with only the whir of the engines disturbing the cabin. You slipped out from your aisle seat, just to stretch your legs and use the bathroom, and then you passed him. Or, at least, you thought it was him. But it wasn't. The stranger sitting in 16C had Anakin's nose and curls, but his eyes were all wrong, and his hair was just a smidge too light. He didn't have those little dimples on the side of his mouth.
But just the same nose and the same curls were enough to light that painful burn in your heart. How many times had you looked at those features, traced them, even before all of this started? Why, why did your heart leap for a second, hoping that he'd followed you, like in some 90s romcom, to declare his undying, hopeless love?
That pit in your stomach you thought was bad before was swallowing you whole now. Your skin felt hot, clammy. You willed yourself to move one leg, then the other, heavy like bags of sand, just to get somewhere private before you imploded.
By the time you slid the lock closed on the bathroom door, you were bawling. Big, heaving sobs ripped from your chest, and you couldn't place the emotion. Anger, sadness, guilt--it was all mixing into a knot that kicked the breath out of you.
What had you done? What had you fucking done?
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Things got a little better at the airport, when you got to hug your family. On the drive home, they occupied you with anecdotes about the neighbors--the house across the street had apparently put up a garish snowman--and questions about your semester. And it was nice to recount some high points. A couple of times, you were tempted to tell a story that involved Anakin, but you held your tongue.
When you got home, and it was around time for bed, you tossed and turned, but all you could think about was him. That feeling in your gut was unbearable, and you were debating whether you should just go retch over a toilet to get it out of your system. You only managed to fall asleep by putting on Criminal Minds, and even then it took you two episodes.
The next night, the same thing happened.
And the next. And the next.
The next time you were in bed, you made yourself confront it. Just for a second. That feeling that came up whenever you thought of him.
For years, he was just some guy who got everything he wanted. You knew the department was stacked against you from the start--being in classes where only four people weren't men was symptomatic of the department culture. But when Anakin interacted with the professors like that, got all the internships, you wondered if you could do the same thing. If it had been you networking with the professors, would you have gotten the same reaction? And you didn't know.
Anakin was frustrating. So, so frustrating for years. Because everything just came so easily to him. It was like he waltzed in every day to your freshman lab course and made breadboard circuits that were even neater than the professor's. And when he did so well on every exam, he didn't make a secret of it. He gloated about how his projects were used as examples. Initially, that rivalry was one-sided. You'd do anything to beat him. Later on, when you'd worked on more than a couple projects together, you could see it in his eyes. He knew you were a threat, good competition.
And when he was clearly closer with the professors and got accepted to an internship you didn't get, it was whatever. It annoyed you to no end and you complained about it to your friends, but it wasn't terrible. Those were minor things. Your theses were major. This was what you'd present to employers, to the world. This was what you were going to do for the rest of your lives. And he'd gotten it from somewhere.
If even this was stacked against you, why did any of it matter?
You were still furious. You felt like you wanted to punch something or scream into your pillow at how unfair the world was, how you just wanted something to be easy for once.
But the worst part of it all was that you knew that, in his place, you would do the same exact thing. Or, at least think about it a lot. You'd feel like shit about it, granted, but you might do it. That feeling of trying and failing for months to get the perfect idea that was equally attractive to employers and the thesis committee, to get something that even worked, was probably the most frustrating cycle you'd ever experienced. If someone gave you a ticket out, what would you have done?
You probably would have taken it, if things were bad enough.
And that meant Anakin wasn't a bad person. Just a desperate one.
You knew he wasn't a bad person, though. You'd seen him smile at you with such openness, such sweetness. You'd seen him coach freshmen, including your own roommate, to become good athletes. You'd seen him get you food when you were too out of it to do it on your own. You'd felt him put his jacket around you when you fell asleep in the library.
But there was always that fear that, just maybe, your first impression had been right. That he was an asshole. That, one day, the mask would fall off, and you'd realize he was just pretending. That your relationship didn't matter to him as much as it did to you. That if you told him that you wanted more than sex, he'd laugh.
And, when you heard from Barriss of all people, that maybe he was exactly what you had thought he was, a liar, it felt like he was stabbing you in the back and twisting the knife.
Looking back at it, it still felt terrible, but you couldn't move the image of Anakin helping you, keeping you company in the library. He wasn't scheming against you when he took the idea, he was just scared and desperate.
It was the department that had pitted you against each other from the start--curves, calling out the best homework solution, TAships, and thesis competitions. None of it was made by him. He was just like you, trying his best.
You also hadn't heard all the details. The idea for the hand had been his, just the idea to scale it down had been someone else's. Just like you'd asked professors to help you choose between ideas early on in the process.
The more you thought about it, the more it felt like your heart was being carved out with a blunt spoon.
You impulsively opened your phone. The texts he had sent you.
please come back we can talk this out please give me another chance
How could you not trust him? How could you have watched him cry and just left? What kind of a person were you?
Fuck, what had you done?
You were gasping for air, the tears rolling down your face and onto your pillow. You had ruined something perfectly good. Just because you were blaming him for everything that had gone wrong.
It was too much. It was all too much. The stress climbed up your throat and choked you, and you writhed in the sheets to try to escape the feeling. To just go back to a time when things mattered less, when you were purely happy and never worrying about GPAs or rankings.
Fingers shaking, you opened Ahsoka's contact and smashed the tauntingly green 'Call' button.
She wouldn't answer you anyway, you reasoned. It was the middle of the night, after all.
The ringing was painfully loud in the empty room. The tone sounded one, two, three, four times, and you were about to give up when Ahsoka's tired voice mumbled your name.
"'Soka--I--Can I talk to you?" You managed to spit out the question despite the thick cottony feeling in your throat.
"Hey, woah, what's the matter? Are you okay?" The grogginess left her voice as she fretted on the other end of the line, and her protectiveness made you feel the tiniest bit better.
As you spilled your guts to her, she made comforting noises at the appropriate places, and grossed out noises when you described that you'd had sex with Anakin. Soon, your breathing stabilized, and she said exactly what you'd been thinking, too: you needed to apologize, stat. Preferably, in person.
You fell asleep on the line with her.
In the morning, everything felt better. Manageable. You just needed to collect yourself before you returned home, and then sit him down and talk to him--actually talk.
For the remainder of the break, you immersed yourself in the everyday. Your holiday traditions were familiar, calming. The constant clamor of your family to get this and that from the store kept you busy. You'd wake up late, eat some lunch, get some coding done, scroll Instagram, eat dinner, then pass out in front of the TV. And just like that, another day slipped by. And another. And another. And another. And then it was Christmas, and all you could think was that Anakin was opening presents right now, somewhere far away. You opened your texts again, trying to draft a message that seemed right--Hey or Merry Christmas both seemed slightly weird. But maybe hearing from you would mess up his day, or maybe he'd realized what you had, that you were in the wrong, and now wasn't interested in talking to you. As you were debating, the roiling guilt in your stomach grew, and, when your father laughed particularly loudly, you were relieved to turn off your phone and pay more attention to the breakfast table.
In the back of your mind, there was a subtle thrum of guilt that never really went away. It only got worse as the break came closer to ending, and you realized you hadn't really gotten anything done on your thesis in weeks. You set a countdown on your phone homescreen, just to keep you on your toes. All it did was make you feel worse.
On New Year's Eve, when you were watching the ball drop with your parents, your phone chimed.
It was Anakin. The world stopped, and your mouth went dry. happy new year. What could you even say to that?
Happy New Year. I miss you.
Happy New Year. I'm sorry for everything.
Happy New Year. Wish you were here
Happy New Year! How are you?
All of them felt wrong. But then one of your parents said your name, trying to get your attention, and you locked your phone.
That night, while having your nightly stew on your feelings, you resolved to talk to him in person after lecture. Otherwise, you were worried you'd never bring it up.
On the first day of classes, you were resolved to catch him before or after lecture. Any time would work, really. You'd have two chances that Monday, and then two more on Wednesday if you chickened out. The fact that you acknowledged you might chicken out was a bad sign, but you ignored it.
You got there ten minutes early, an act that was generally considered psychopathic in college, and you were ready to zone out while the professor said some things about the goals of the course for just long enough for class time to end before speaking to Anakin.
Would he say something to you? Would he try to sit next to you? Would he even notice you?
You kept your eyes firmly trained on the board, and tried not to look too desperate as you snuck glances. Then, finally, he arrived, and you tried to look as nonchalant as possible. You made a point not to think too hard about how he was more handsome than you remembered and not to wonder if he wore that shirt just for you. That wasn't your place. You needed to apologize, not ogle him. You expected him to sit down somewhere in the middle of the seats, somewhere distinctly Anakin, but he crossed the room entirely. He even sat one row in front of you. Did he not even want you in his periphery? Your heart sunk. Maybe he had a change of heart after you didn't respond to his New Year's Eve text. Maybe he was just done with you. Maybe maybe maybe, your mind chanted.
The second that the professor was done, you rushed out.
The same thing happened again in your afternoon class, and you walked home regretting every life choice that brought you to this moment.
The next day, when you got home from your class, you entered your living room to find Anakin on the couch. Immediately, that nausea that had been plaguing you punched you in the throat.
There he was. Looking so unbothered, so casual, like him being in your room didn't make him think back to the last time you had been here, entwined on the bed. Like it didn't make him think of how you'd ruined it. All you could hear was static.
The worst part was that you couldn't stop ogling him, even though you felt terrible about it. He must have been working out over the break, because his arms looked incredible in that shirt, and his jawline was etched even more strongly than usual. The haircut he'd gotten over break left his hair falling just over his forehead in those perfect waves. It caught in the light as usual, and when he turned to look at you all you could see was blue blue blue.
And then you realized he was looking at you--at you--and his eyebrows furrowed. You could see him swallow, hard, as he looked at you. Was it a glare? Was he angry? Was he about to storm out? Who knew?
But this was your opportunity. Class didn't work out--this was it. You had to talk to him now.
You opened your mouth to say something, maybe "Hey guys, can I talk to Anakin for a second?" or "Hey, can we talk?" or "I think I like you a lot," or literally anything, but nothing came out. The static in your ears got louder until it was deafening. Your stomach roiled and, for a second, you were worried you'd throw up instead of saying anything.
"Hey," you croaked out. The awkward silence sat between you three, and you didn't see his expression change. Fuck. He didn't even say "hey" back.
You had to get out of there. Had to. Right now. You bolted into your room and closed the door behind you, then dove into your bed and screamed into your pillow.
Motherfucker.
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Your next attempt to apologize came at practice the next day. You hoped to catch him at the end of it, maybe pull him away and talk in some empty stairwell. You crept up to the room, but, the closer you got, the more that tidal wave of terrible feelings threatened to wash you away. Through the door to Aerobics Room 1, your eyes found him in the crowd immediately. They were practicing some kind of form (pumsae? the exact name escaped you), and Fives made some sort of comment to Anakin which sent him cackling.
He looked light, and with the afternoon sun casting its rays into the room, he almost became angelic. When he laughed, and his eyes crinkled in that way that made you soft, you lost all your nerve. He was never like this when you were in class together, or that time he was in your apartment. Whenever he saw you, he got that look on his face.
But now, he was all smiles and laughs as he playfully smacked Fives, who repeated whatever he'd said and sent a bunch more athletes into fits of laughter.
Dappled in the sunlight, his face split with an enormous smile, Anakin was so perfect in that moment. How could you ruin it by making him have a hard conversation?
At the same time, you felt the anger at yourself build up. You said all those awful things to him, and you had the nerve to delay your apology?
But you knew that, if he heard your apology and didn't forgive you, that would ruin the day for him. He was just like that. And you didn't have the heart to do that to him.
Tomorrow, you promised yourself, as you took one last look tracing the contours of his jaw and lips.
As you turned to go, you didn't notice that he'd turned to see something moving in the windowed doors to the Aerobics Room.
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Ahsoka was fucking tired. There were approximately two people she cared for most on the campus, and they were both huge dummies. They'd proven that over and over. She knew something was amiss from the day the two of you fought/broke up/ended things/whatever, when you started sulking in your room alone and consuming an upsetting amount of caffeine. She started gently probing right when the worst of finals was over. She didn't want to rush anything, but a well-placed "hey going to go get some food, want anything?" might soften either of the two of you enough to let her know what happened.
She found out when you told her on a phone call. And, yes, it wasn't great. It was, perhaps, morally dubious and a little misguided, from what she could tell, but it wasn't clear to her why this was such an issue. Wasn't taking advice from others and collaborating the whole point of academic research and theses?
But she also knew you had gotten feedback from multiple professors after you'd submitted your initial proposal, trying to pick between several approaches, before one of the faculty nudged you in the direction of 3-D printing instead of plastic molding. And, sure, Anakin was a little more than nudged, but he came up with the idea for the mechanical hand in the first place. This was just a different application, right? And yes, it wasn't super duper ethical that the idea was just given to him, but what would you do in his shoes?
Ahsoka told you exactly that, and you sounded like you were choking on the other end of the phone. You told her about how horrible you felt, and that you felt like you didn't know if he even wanted to ever see you again, and she groaned. Of course he did. He was the biggest simp she knew.
So Ahsoka did what she did best: she meddled.
It started small, with mentioning the taekwondo team in front of you once the semester had started. Sometimes an anecdote would include Anakin, and she made sure to casually drop his name, just to gauge your reaction. You didn't even flinch when she said it, which seemed like a good sign. But the pulse in the hollow of your neck jumped. When you confessed that you'd failed to talk to him in class, because it just felt too awkward in public, Ahsoka nodded sagely, like she wasn't already scheming to give you a private time to chat.
Within five minutes, she had texted Anakin to invite him over to plan the competitions they would be attending that semester. Like she hadn't already discussed it with him in December, but whatever. A meeting between the captain and the vice captain wasn't out of the ordinary. And it just so happened that her room was free. Crazy, right?
She really couldn't have made it turn out this well if she tried. When you entered, and Anakin looked like he might fall off the couch, Ahsoka had to suppress a smile. You looked like you wanted to say something, like maybe you'd built up the courage, and she was about to say that, actually, she had forgotten an incredibly important errand she had to run at a cafe for 30 to 45 minutes, but then you just said "hey" and walked into your room. Ahsoka grumbled internally. What was so hard about just apologizing?
Two days into classes, Ahsoka had not-so-subtly hinted to Cody that he should host a party, just in case her other meddling didn't work. It was her backup plan, and, apparently, she needed it. So, after giving you a pep talk that this would be the perfect time to talk to Anakin because you weren't in class or a meeting, and after digging out some dress in the back of your closet for you to throw on, the two of you were off.
Once you arrived at the party, she watched you do a sweep of the room instantly. She knew what you were looking for, and rolled her eyes. He probably hadn't arrived yet, but she texted him anyway, just to check.
In the two seconds she was looking down at her phone, she watched you talk to some sophomore from the business school. He looked douchey, but he was cute enough and said something that made you laugh. Come on, Anakin, she thought, praying he'd arrive soon before she had to watch this guy flirt with you any longer.
Again, she realized she was great at meddling when Anakin showed up and beelined to Cody. She pushed her way through some people, and came to greet him, drag him to get a drink, but he'd already taken a beer from Cody, then insisted that they go dance.
At every opportunity, Ahsoka tried to hint that maybe they should go over there? Toward the other side of the room? Get some more drinks, maybe?
It took ten minutes, but Anakin finally agreed. He didn't see it, but Ahsoka was smiling like a maniac when she saw him take you in. When he started marching over, she was practically cheering. It was show time.
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As you walked to some quiet(er) room, your heart was pounding. This was more nerve-wracking than the first time you slept together, than anything you had done together before. When he just appeared in front of you, looking so intense, it took you a minute to get yourself together enough to form words. Was he mad at you? And now the moment of truth had come.
You pushed into a room which belonged to someone who had more weed than deodorant, and was covered wall-to-wall in dingy band posters. You didn't want to even look down to see how stained the carpet was.
But none of that mattered. Because right now, he was here. And you finally had the opportunity to say what you needed to say.
Before you started, you drank him in one last time, just in case. His deep eyes, the peek of collarbone through his shirt, his broad chest. A quick mental catalogue.
And then you started speaking.
"I'm sorry, Anakin." You weren't sure what gave you the courage. Maybe it was because he approached you first, so you couldn't hide behind the excuse that he didn't want to see you anymore. Maybe it was the slightly awkward conversation with that dude downstairs who seemed to have way too many takes on types of beer. Either way, you'd finally done it. You'd said it. Just apologizing to him made you feel lighter, but that was drowned out by the anxiety of hearing his response.
You were trying to read his expression, the draw of his eyebrows, the purse of his lips. This was the weirdest angry face you'd ever seen.
"Wait--huh?" Both of you were probably wearing the same expression--sheer confusion. Wasn't he supposed to be mad at you? What? You watched his eyes trying to read what you meant, and his plush lips were the tiniest bit open.
You continued anyway. It had to be said, even if he was just going to tell you to stay away from him.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that, you didn't deserve it. Not everything was your fault, and I've been feeling so guilty over the whole break that I just--I couldn't bring myself to tell you. I chickened out every time. I wish I hadn't… ended things. Between us. I'm--I'm so sorry." Your voice came out more confident than you felt, comfortable in the words you had been rehearsing for weeks in your mind.
Once again, the room went quiet. Anakin stood, as still as a statue, clearly trying to process. Behind the pounding of your ears, you could hear the bass line downstairs and the chatter of people, and you tried to remind yourself that if this goes badly, you'll just go back home, time would pass, and you'd be able to heal your broken heart in peace.
Then, suddenly, Anakin pulled you into a crushing hug. You couldn't breathe from the weight of his head on your shoulder, and the tight squeeze of his arms around your waist. The sandalwood of his shampoo was comforting, familiar. He smelled like home as he buried his face into your neck.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry too--I wish I could take it back, that I just never entered this goddamn competition, then you never would've been mad at me and--" His voice came out broken and shaky.
"Anakin, hey," you interrupted. Had he spent the whole break feeling like this? He should be mad at you, not just upset with himself. You could talk to him about that later, but right now you could feel his desperation to just be near you again, mainly because you felt the same way. You wrapped your arms around him until your hand found his hair. Burying your fingers in it felt so good, so natural. How could you ever have ended this?
"It's okay," you said as you rubbed his back. You could feel his breaths were ragged, and he squeezed you even tighter. "I shouldn't have been that mad at you in the first place--I just got so upset that you had some sort of upper hand, and I went crazy," you continued.
"Fuck," Anakin muttered against your skin. The shift of his lips over your collarbone reminded you of the last time he'd kissed up and down your neck. You took a deep breath. Now was not the time to get horny.
Anakin pulled away, but kept his arms wrapped around your waist. Your heart clenched when you saw the mix of anguish and relief dancing across his features. His eyes were swimming, and a tear rolled down his cheek, then another, then another, until he was crying.
"Fuck," he mumbled again as he pulled one hand away from you to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand, almost as if he was embarrassed. Despite it all, you found him immeasurably cute.
"Uh, I was gonna come up here and beg you for another chance--I just couldn't watch you move on or talk to that guy downstairs, it hurts too much," he confessed. His eyes met yours and you felt that familiar jolt of joy that he brought, this time over the idea that he was jealous, possessive even, over you.
"I'm not moving on." It was a risk to say it, but you did it anyway. It was definitely true, but it came out more careful, more tentative than you wanted. Because there was a chance he didn't mean it that way, and you'd just shown your hand.
Fortunately, he had a terrible poker face. Even streaked with tears, a little bit sweaty, and standing in a room that stank like weed, Anakin's smile burst onto his face and shone like the sun.
You'd forgotten how many butterflies that smile gave you. Tentatively, you moved your hand from his shoulder to his jaw. His eyes slid closed and he leaned into your touch, like you might disappear if he didn't keep you there.
Then, someone hollered in the hallway, something about a round of shots, and Anakin's eyes snapped open.
"Do you want to go somewhere quieter to talk more?" You asked. "We can walk back home or--" Anakin cut you off.
"Um, if you don't hate me right now, and I don't--I could never--hate you, can I just--" His hungry eyes flicked down to your lips, and you knew immediately that the answer was yes. Yes. A hundred times yes.
You didn't think too many brain cells were firing, so you just nodded. His smile widened, if that was even possible, and he pulled you into him just like he had so many times before.
As he got closer, your heart started pounding, and your palms got sweaty, like this was a first date. And, in a way, it kind of was. It was your first time kissing as more than just enemies who fucked every once in a while, but as something else, something more.
When his lips met yours, he was so heartbreakingly tender, you melted under his touch. Anakin was so warm when he held you this close, and you were half expecting him to start deepening the kiss when he pulled away so that your foreheads were touching.
"I fucking missed you so much," he whispered reverently, then immediately kissed you again, deeper this time.
His kiss was all-consuming, like a whirlpool sucking you in, until you'd forgotten everything except how he felt against you. Your kisses grew deeper, until you felt his tongue gently brush your lips, and you immediately opened them.
Everything felt new, gentle, and you relished it. One of his hands slid down to your ass, squeezing gently, and you felt yourself get wet. You'd been pent up for weeks, and the simultaneous relief of being with him again and the way he had all but told you that he had feelings for you were making you dizzy with want for him.
Your hands grasped anything they could, his shoulders, his hair, his arms, as much of him as you could reach. Did he even know what he did to you?
He broke the kiss, just for a second, and you were about to protest when he pulled the two of you back until he was sitting on the twin bed shoved into the corner of the room. You stood between his legs, his hands trailing down the backs of your thighs.
You swung one knee over his hips, lowering yourself until you were straddling him. Anakin watched you, his eyes dark and mischievous, and let out a small "fuck" when you were finally in his lap. He was a sucker for this position, you knew. This was exactly how you'd gotten together, at that stupid night of truth and dare. The memory filled your heart with warmth.
As you settled onto his legs, you felt a familiar hardness under you, and the butterflies returned. You loved doing this to him, making him care about nothing other than the moment you were sharing. You not-so-subtly shifted your hips as you kissed him again, and you were rewarded with a low moan.
His hands kept teasing you, running up and down the sides of your thighs as he captured your lower lip between his teeth gently. You groaned loudly into his mouth, and he used that moment to slide a hand up your inner thigh, until he had passed the hem of your dress.
Using all the willpower you had left, you pulled away. You were both panting, and he was a vision when you looked at him again, his pupils blown wide and his lips red and wet from your kiss.
"Anakin, are you sure this is okay?" You desperately wanted him to say yes, because it felt like you might implode if you didn't have him inside you tonight, but if he was this emotional, you had to say something. Give him an out.
Instead, Anakin looked at you like a man starved. His pupils were wide, and, even through the tears, he looked ravenously hungry for you. Like you made his world spin.
"Yes--God, I've thought of you every day, all the time. I don't want to wait any more than I have to, unless you don't want to, or if you think you'd regret it--" He was rambling. It was adorable.
"I've never regretted you," you said, cutting him off. "But are you sure you're sure?" You stared into his eyes, looking for any trace of worry, or hesitation. All you found was desire, and something softer. Affection, love, maybe.
He rolled his hips, pressing his hard cock against you.
"Can't you feel how much I want you?" Usually, a line like that would make you roll your eyes, but with the mischief in his eyes and the feeling of him hard underneath you, it only served to make you wetter.
You immediately grabbed his shirt to pull his lips to yours again, rocking your hips over and over until he matched your rhythm. The hand on your inner thigh crept upward, until it reached your clothed pussy.
You'd forgotten how well he knew your body, like he'd been made to touch you. His fingers found the perfect angle to stroke your clit, and you became a mess, your kisses sloppy.
After he'd teased you for a long enough time to make you a wreck on top of him, Anakin pulled your underwear aside. He dipped just one finger inside, and he groaned at how soaked you were.
"Can I fuck you, baby?" He asked, as if the answer would be anything but please. You nodded as hard as you could, and he started unzipping his jeans as fast as he could while keeping his eyes on you. You weren't sure he'd ever look away.
Meanwhile, you stood up off of him just enough to pull your soaked panties down your legs and kick them off. As he pulled his cock out, you vowed to give him head the next time you were together, because goddamn, you'd forgotten how nice of a sight he was like this.
He pulled a condom out of his pocket and rolled it on, still looking at you and only fumbling a couple of times in his trance.
"C'mere," he grabbed your waist and pulled until you were straddling him again, right above his cock. He grabbed your hips with one hand, and lined himself up with the other, then slowly started guiding you down onto him.
As he split you open, you forgot how to think, or talk, or do anything other than feel him inside of you. Every ridge, every inch. You let your head fall back as a keening moan erupted from your throat. He kissed everywhere he could, up and down your throat as he grunted against your skin.
You realized you couldn't even draw a steady breath, you were so overwhelmed by the feeling of being with him again.
His breath fanned your collarbone as he finally rested his forehead there and groaned your name. It was music on his lips.
The hand on your hip started guiding you to move, and you gently rocked your hips. God, had it ever felt this good before?
The feeling washed over you like honey, drenching your limbs and making your fingers tingle. Almost on their own, your hips picked up the pace, spreading the feeling everywhere in your body.
As you rode him faster, he pressed his face into your neck, letting the wetness from his crying earlier rub onto your skin. He was groaning at almost every thrust, incoherent mixtures of yes's and your name falling off his lips with every breath.
You were holding on for dear life, fingers fisted in his hair, when he grabbed under your thighs and stood up, slipping his cock out of you while you were still in his arms.
Anakin turned around and laid you down on your back as he busied himself throwing off his shirt and pants until he was bare in front of you. Within two more seconds, he was inside you again, this time thrusting into you from above.
He was holding himself up on his elbows, so his face was right above yours, eyes locked onto yours. You could see every reaction, every groan fall from his lips.
Usually, he was rough and made his hips smack yours, but, today, his thrusts were slow and languid, like he was trying to make it last as long as possible. You could live in this moment for the rest of your life. A particularly strong twitch of his cock made you whimper.
"Fuck, baby. You're so gorgeous like this," he breathed, pressing a kiss to your forehead tenderly. You locked your legs around him, holding him close, so that this wouldn't end. So that you could always stay here.
His breath hitched, and you knew he was getting close. You loved that you knew things like that about him, that only you knew that about him right now.
"Shit, fuck. Your pussy is so fucking good, like you were made for me," he groaned into your ear, speeding up until he was going faster than you thought he could. The intensity made you grasp at his back desperately, your nails catching on his skin. He hissed loudly. Anakin's cock twitched inside you, and you knew he was seconds away from his release. And you were even closer, that delicious tension building with every thrust.
His hand came between you to rub small circles on your clit, and then you were gone. Your mind went blank, and everything became just sensation. Warmth, all around you. Him, everywhere.
Somewhere far away, while you were still twitching around him, he groaned, low and loud and raw, as he came while sheathed deep in your pussy. Anakin laid his head in the crook of your neck while he recovered. His breath hitched as he took a shaky exhale, then pulled his cock out of you.
You didn't need to say any words, you both knew what you wanted. He pulled you into his arms like you were the most precious thing on the planet, then let his eyes slip closed. All the tension that had been building in your body was released, gone into the wind. All that was left was him, and the rise and fall of his chest as you lay against it.
"I missed you, too," you ventured after a few seconds of comfortable silence. He hummed, letting the hand trailing through your hair cup your jaw and pull you up for another kiss.
This one was tender, not about fucking, not about anything but his feelings for you. It was addicting, and, when it stopped, you almost pulled him in for another round. But it was midnight, and every muscle in your body was screaming.
Anakin said something about cleaning up and getting out of here, and you nodded, but you found you were having trouble with coherent thoughts at the moment. Anakin gently kissed your forehead and then rolled out of bed.
"'Kay, I'm gonna go look around for a bathroom, be back in a sec!" He called out, putting his clothes back on quickly, but not quickly enough that you didn't have time to check him out.
Even when he left the room, you were still smiling. You grabbed your phone, discarded somewhere near the bed, and sat back down. You wanted to text Ahsoka to thank her for bringing you to this party, for introducing you to Anakin, hell, for being born, when your homescreen reminded you of something.
54 Days, 18 hours, 27 seconds until Thesis Due Date
That pit opened in your stomach. You thought you had gotten rid of it, but there it was again. Everything went tight in your body, and suddenly all you could think was how could you have let yourself get this far behind? You had to get to work.
Something bumped your leg. It was Anakin's hand. You hadn't even heard him come in.
"Everything okay?" Anakin asked, with that gentle smile that hadn't really left him since you'd made up.
You looked at him, the man who you kind-of-sort-of-definitely had feelings for, and you shot him a half-assed smile as you locked your phone.
"Yeah," you said, your voice tight as you put it away. But, for the rest of the night, even when he walked you home and kissed you in front of the building--in public--it echoed in the back of your mind.
54 days.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!):
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#anakin skywalker#star wars anakin#anakin x reader#anakin smut#anakin x you#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker/you#anakin/you#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker x you#star wars prequels#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen imagine
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Hello…I didn’t expect to make this request, but I didn’t know who else to turn to, and you’re the most active writer I’ve followed for so long that is still around. (And I’m happy for that, sincerely)
Well, before I request something, let me explain why. I…I’m saying goodbye. (Not that way, don’t worry) I’m saying goodbye…to the fandom…specifically, to reading Natasha x reader fics. I tried for a while to hope for fics where Reader was more of the knight in shining armor, masc presenting woman, or the top in the relationship, but…well, that didn’t happen much. And I’m not bashing on anyone for writing reader as more of the opposite. Not at all, everyone is entitled to write how they want to write….but I can’t just keep coming here and continue to see it be the same troupe. And no matter how much I request for one (and when requests are asked and open) it never happens, and instead it’s something else I didn’t request. So…I think it’s best for me to bid farewell. I cant force writers to write what I want, that’s not how it works. It’s a dick move
Here’s what I want to ask…for my final Natasha x reader fic request:
Reader is a soldier for the United States Air Force. Natasha has been busy as an Avenger. Reader, on leave, tried to spend time with Natasha but was always met with rain checks. On top of that, Natasha has always treated reader as the frail, need to protect, girlfriend, and reader always made it clear she wasn’t much for the pillow process type.
Anyways, reader decides to re-enlist for another deployment and begin a new life, maybe somewhere in Germany I don’t know. But, as she’s packing to leave is when Natasha FINALLY decides to give her the time of day….but it’s too late.
Reader sits Natasha down and says along the lines this, “I’m not the person you want…and we’ve just become different people and are pursuing different things….” She’d go on about how as much as she loves Natasha, she can’t be the partner she expects of her. She’s tired of being made out to be this woman that’s made to be the trophy wife or something like that. That she should find someone who can connect and click with her. Be her true soulmate.
Natasha is heartbroken and wants to fix things. Not expecting this at all. Pleading for a second chance but reader stands her ground. No tears shed, but she’s not cold to her either. Reader leaves, Natasha follows her all the way to the airport, tries one last time but reader doesn’t give in….she bids the redhead farewell…and thanks her for the memories that were amazing. She wishes nothing but happiness for her and a happy life.
…that’s it. Write it, toss it away, it’s fine. I’m just going to leave this here, do with it what you want.
Thanks for the fics you made, specifically the ones where you portrayed reader as the knight in shining armor.
Signing off.
A Final Goodbye
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Masc! Reader
Summary: You take a step back and do what is best for you, and Natasha.
Angst, Comfort
Warnings: None, if I missed any, please let me know | 1.1K
AC: Thank you for sending this in, I am sorry to hear that you’re leave and I do hope that you’re still around to read this. I do apologise for it taking me a while to get it out, I also just want to say that I do not consider myself a masc lesbian so I do apologise in advance if anything in this is not giving that representation. Rest assured, this is Reader being the lead in this. I hope you enjoy x
You took a deep breath as you zipped up the last duffel bag, feeling the weight of your decision settle across your shoulders. Your small apartment almost empty, leaving most of your belongings in storage. Carefully, you placed the duffle bag with the others before taking a moment to gather your thoughts.
It had been playing on your mind for a while now, keeping you up at night while you tossed and turned endlessly, wishing things were different but too much had changed over time. You tried to spend time with her, but you only met with rain checks or last-minute cancellations. You missed her but you couldn’t stop thinking about the drift between you two.
Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, the woman you fell for. At first, things were great, you both were on the same page and were very much in the ‘honeymoon’ phase almost every day but like all couples, there were things that you would argue about and there were plenty of things that made you both frustrated. One thing you couldn’t understand was why Nat would consistently treat you like a frail and need to be protected girlfriend. As much as you loved that she cared for you, you hated being treated like a pillow princess. It wasn’t you.
You didn’t need saving; you didn’t need protecting. You needed somebody who understood you and loved you for you. You always made it clear to Natasha that the pillow princess type wasn’t you at all, you always reminded her that you didn’t need her to protect you from every little thing, after all, you were a soldier. But something about being firm with her just didn’t stick. So, you made the decision to re-enlist for another deployment, making sure that the next time you returned, things would be different. Not just for you but for Natasha as well.
Natasha knocked softly on the door; it was time. You took a deep breath and reached for the door handle, meeting her soft green eyes for the first time in weeks. Her famous red locks still damp from the rain outside, her expression a mix of relief and uncertainty.
“Hey,” she said softly, her eyes locking with yours.
You couldn’t help the soft smile that pulled on your lips, “Hey, I’m glad you could come” you replied, opening the door wider for her.
“I’m so glad you’re still here. I… I thought you might be gone already.” She said softly, her eyes darting to the small pile of duffle bags.
“I leave tomorrow” you replied, watching as Nat turned around to face you once more. “Can we talk, please?” She asked, her gaze locked onto you. “I want to give you time to talk but I really need you to listen to me first” you said as you gestured that the two of you take a seat. Natasha let out a soft sigh, deep down she knew she wasn’t leaving your apartment the same woman she came as.
The two of you took a seat at the dining table, the cold surface somehow bringing a little comfort to you in this moment as you gently reached for Natasha’s hand. You looked into her eyes for a moment, taking in the beauty she held.
“I love you so much, I always will but I need to honest with you, with us. This isn’t so much about the fact our schedules suck and the rain check are rain check. This is about us and how I’m not the person you want” you paused for a moment, taking a deep breath in before continuing. “We’ve become different people. We’re pursuing different things and different dreams. I can’t be the partner you expect of me. I’m tired of you only seeing me as this fragile person who needs to protect. I’m a soldier, I’m in the air force. I can hold my own and I want to be respected for that” you added.
“Detka, I do respect you. You’re everything to me, I don’t mean to make you feel like that….I just, I care about you so, so much but I can’t deal with the thought if something were to happen to you” Natasha pleaded, tears pooling in her eyes.
You smiled softly, trying to keep your own tears from building up, “I know you respect me Nat, but, when you’re around others, you’re not the same. We go from being one to two different people and somehow, you think I’m the one who needs to protected and treated differently….” You paused for a moment, your thumb stroking her soft skin. “We both know that love is such a big, beautiful and powerful thing. It means a lot of things and one of those things is knowing when to let go. You deserve somebody who can give you everything you want, but we know deep down it’s not me” you added.
A silence fell between you both, Natasha’s face falling, her defenses crumbling as you continued. “I want you to find happiness, even if that means without me. You deserve it.”
“But… what if we can work it out? I can be better, I promise” Natasha said, pleading, her voice breaking as her tears began to fall freely down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry Nat, but it’s too late. I need a fresh start, and I think you need one too”
Natasha’s expression shifted from desperation to heartbreak as she nodded at your words. Wiping her tears on the sleeve of her shirt, she stood up. “I don’t want to hold you back” she said softly, barely able to look into your eyes. You stood up from your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat as she reached out to hug you one last time.
“Please be safe” she whispered, “and write to me whenever you’re ready” she added, hugging you tightly. You hugged her back, allowing yourself to feel the love she has for you one last time, hugging her just as tightly back. “I promise” you replied in the same soft whisper.
As you two parted, you smiled softly at her, hoping it would somehow ease her broken heart a little. “I know this wasn’t what you expected but I want you to know that all the memories we share and the time we had, it was beautiful, and I will forever cherish them. I want nothing but love and happiness for you, don’t hold yourself back from find another love. Be happy Nat, you deserve that” you said.
To your surprise the redhead returned a soft smile, “I will always love you” she spoke ever so gently.
“And I will always love you” you replied.
Natasha turned, and headed for the door. You watched her leave, closing the door gently behind her, taking with her a piece of your heart. You took a moment for yourself, part of you broken from the words shared but the other half excited knowing a new chapter awaited. The memories of Natasha would always be with you, reminding you that love can be found again.
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#yelenasdiary asks#anon#fanfiction#marvel#Natasha Romanoff#Natasha Romanoff x Reader#Natasha Romanoff x you#Black Widow x reader#Black widow x you
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How Was Your Day? — Cater Diamond x gn! reader
summery: you help Cater open up to you a bit more.
tw: hurt/comfort.
wc: 1.1k
Master List
It was so silly. You felt like you were living the most cliche scenario in the world. You had a crush on your best friend. Could you really be blamed? Not only was Cater drop dead gorgeous, but he always made you feel included and seen. There was just one thing that itched at you. You wished he would open up to you a bit more. No matter what, there felt like a barrier between you both, something that kept you from getting any closer to seeing the full painting that was Cater Diamond. You could only really see the surface, the pretty colors and beautiful framing, hiding the gritty reality that laid beneath.
You wanted to dig deeper, to truly dissect the meaning behind Cater. He was your friend, and you felt foolish that you fell for the glitz and the glamor instead of his true self. Or that’s how you felt at least. You had managed to catch glimpses of his softer moments, moments where you were feeling down. Where he’d dim down his outgoing personality and try to make you laugh with either memes he found or acting silly. And if that didn’t work? He’d listen to your complaints, only giving advice if you ask.
It was only a glimpse, though, as those moments seemed far and few in between. Putting on his cheery smile and flash of the camera. Maybe you were being selfish, but it almost hurt, knowing that Cater didn’t seem to trust you enough to show you all of himself when he’s seen you at your worst. That he can see you cry and complain, but thinks you’d mind if he did the same. You only wanted to be there for him like he was for you, to show him that he wasn’t a problem, even if he wasn’t super bubbly or outgoing.
It seemed like you were going to get what you wished sooner than you expected.
You hadn’t meant to stumble upon him in such a vulnerable moment. You just wanted to spend some time with your bestie/crush, knocking on his door before entering. You paused midstep, noticing a lump under the blankets on Cater’s bed, ginger hair barely peeking out.
“Cater?” You called out cautiously, clicking the door closed behind you. He only shuffled further into his cocoon, not acknowledging your presence. Gosh, as much as you wanted him to open up, you were unsure of how to proceed, but one thing was for sure. You were not just going to let him stew alone.
So as gracefully as you could (quite awkwardly in all honesty), you took a seat next to where he laid, hand hesitantly reaching out to pat his form. No words were said as you stroked Cater’s back, trying to think of what to say or ask.
”Do you want to talk about it?” You settled on asking.
”I’m sorry,” Cater mumbled, you could barely hear it through the thick fabric that covered him.
“What are you sorry for?” You asked softly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
It was silent for a few seconds before Cater mumbled brokenly, “I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”
You felt your heart break, a heavy pit filling your stomach. Cater shouldn’t hold his feelings in like this, especially when he has people willing to lend a shoulder…like you.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” You replied without hesitation. “I care about you, Cater. If you’re ever feeling down you can always come to me, I’ll always be here for you.”
Cater was hesitant to peek his head out of the safety of his blankets, but the sweetness of your words had his chest aching, a bittersweet feeling spreading through him. On one hand, you were saying things he had longed to hear for so long, but on the other it felt completely wrong for you to see him as anything else but happy and cheerful.
His emerald eyes peaked at you, the lower half of his face still covered, red locks of hair falling in his face, “I don’t want to be a burden.”
“You are not a burden,” You scolded gently. “Am I a burden when I’m not feeling good?”
”Of course not,” Cater frowned from beneath the blanket.
“So what makes you the exception?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
Cater opened his mouth, reflexively ready to insult himself…but he couldn’t actually think of a proper rebuttal. You had actually managed to stump him. He looked so disheartened and hopeful at the same time.
“Even if I don’t actually like all the things I say I do? Even though I lie to you all about who I am?”
“Even then,” You agreed, scrounging any confidence you had left in you, you raised a shaky hand to run it through his hair. It seemed like that was the right thing to do as Cater’s eyes shut in a look of bliss, unconsciously leaning his head into your hand.
“Y’know you don’t have to lie about all that stuff, right?” You asked softly, scratching his scalp gently. “Who cares if you like spicy over sweet, it won’t change how much I love you.”
“Thank you,” Cater murmured with a content sigh, nuzzling his head into your thigh, soaking in your affection.
“Of course,” You murmured back, admiring the way his hair framed his face so prettily…only to be surprised when his perfectly manicured hand reached out from beneath the blankets and wrapped around your torso, dragging you to lay down beside him. You felt your face flush from being so close, his faint freckles more visible from this distance.
“I…” Cater spoke out, tongue thick with emotion. Those three words you said so easily felt like a ton of bricks that he just couldn’t cough up, but he wanted to oh so desperately at that moment. You watched on in concern as Cater’s face contorted into what looked semi-painful, like he was struggling with a thought.
”I love you too,” Cater managed to push out, eyeing you with anxiety and vulnerability. Your eyes widened, before it clicked that you had said those words mere minutes ago, you hadn’t even realized those words slipped past your lips, but you had meant them wholeheartedly.
You relaxed in his hold, resting your head on his shoulder, “Hmmm, well too bad I love you more.”
Cater let out a short giggle, nuzzling into your hair, the both of you drowning in butterflies. It was a rainy moment turned sunny, the two of you basking in the glow of the other's love. Sure, the problem wasn’t solved and Cater would still have to work on opening up to you, but it was a start, and you’d be by his side supporting him through all his ups and downs.
#❥ • my works#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst wonderland x reader#cater diamond x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#twst wonderland#cater diamond#x reader
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Isekai Reader, currently floating in mid-air: this is fine this is normal...
Isekai Reader: FUCKIN GET ME DOWN!!!*flapping their arms and just trying to get down*
Dick: just calm down maybe you might float down
Isekai Reader: I TRIED EARLIER!
Dick: you really need to be calm
Isekai Reader: FUCK YOU GRAYSON!
......
Duke: how did that happen?
Isekai Reader, stops struggling a while ago and just float mindlessly: my best bet is that after mama wayne possessed me*shivers remembering what happened the week before* is that I gained a but of ghostly powers look I can phase through the chandelier if I want to
Duke: would kryptonite work on you?
Isekai reader: I'm not kryptonian
Isekai reader: wanna find out?
Duke: sure lemme go grab it
Isekai reader: m'kay
....
Alfred: why thank you for cleaning the ceiling and the chandelier
Isekai Reader: no problemo does that mean I get the last snack you made *hopeful*
Alfred: go right ahead
Isekai reader: YAY!!
....
Bruce sipping coffee as he looks at the picture he took with his parents, reader cropped out(you know what I mean): mom.. dad.. *ignores his eldest son running away from reader*
Dick, runs away with the said snack reader wants: ITS JUST ONE SNACK! THE HELL
Isekai Reader, zooming through the air: I DID WHAT ALFRED TOLD ME TO AND THAT SHIT IS MY REWARD GET BACK HERE GRAYSON!
Isekai! Reader/ you: *floating* coming here was already weird enough, but having ghost powers is another thing.
Dick: what’s your hero name?
Isekai! Reader/ you: *smirks* Danny Phantom *waits for applause*
Duke:…is that another one of your references or?
Isekai! Reader/ you: *pouts as you being to phase through the ceiling into Jason’s room* boo, you’re both boring I’m going to hit on your hot brother.
Dick: DO NOT HIT ON JASON!
Duke: you’re even starting to sound like Bruce.
Dick; aww man. *pouts* but seriously who’s Danny phantom?
Duke: *shrugs*
…
Jason: I can feel you staring at me babe.
Isekai! Reader/you: no you can’t.
Jason; just because you’ve got powers doesn’t mean I can feel that stare that you always give me.
Isekai! Reader/ you: …you knew?
Jason: you don’t exactly make it subtly to be honest.
Isekai! Reader/you: …*phases through the floor*
…
Isekai! Reader/ you: *to dick and duke* HE FUCKING KNOWS!
Dick: you don’t exactly make it subtle.
Duke: I mean you stare at his back, thighs, biceps, chest and his face so intently I got concerned for your health.
Isekai!reader/ you:…he’s really pretty!
Dick: am I pretty *batts his eye lashes*
Isekai! Reader/ you: …I guess…
Dick: WHY DID IT TAKE YOU SO LONG TO AWNSER!?
…
Martha: do we think we did something wrong with possessing them?
Thomas: no, what makes you think that my love?
Martha: *points at Isekai! Reader/ you -now having learnt how to fly and go invisible- go after Dick, Tim, Jason and Stephanie for reasons unknown*
Dick: WHAT THE FUCK
Jason: WERE SORRY FOR SPOILING THE SHOW!
Tim: IT WAS ALL DICK’s IDEA!
Dick: WHAT THE FUCK TIM
Tim: IT’s TRUE!
Stephanie: MY PHONE ISNT WORKING! *it’s screen glitches as the words ‘you spoiled it for me’ are scrawled across it*
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc comics x reader#dc x y/n#batfam x reader#batfam imagine#batfamily imagine#batfamily imagines#batfam imagines#isekai reader
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Cockwarming g!p kkura while she's playing a game >.< !!
the most asked fic but can never get enough of!!!1!1! 😫😭🙏
also i apologize for the cringe title but ahem i didnt have any fucking ideas... also i think it looks a bit rushed?? idk 😭
✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆
“Me or the PS5?”
g!p (sub? dom? who am i) Sakura Miyawaki x female reader
Smut (+ crumb of angst?)
Cockwarming
Making out
Marking (hickeys...)
Dirty talk
Cock riding
Mentions of pregnancy (?)
Pet names:3
why does the parrot emoji appear when i type dirty talk... oh wait its just for talk oops 🦜
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"Seriously, you're starting to piss me off, Kkura."
"Look, I'm sorry, I kn-"
"I don't wanna hear it!"
Well, you were fuming. Sakura's schedule was full as always and she comes home when you're asleep; you practically never see her. Until tonight, you were somehow able to stay awake – or it's just that she came home slightly earlier – and you had to confront her about this.
"I'm tired, you know? I feel like I'm alone in this house."
"I understand, Y/N. But I can't-"
"This isn't only for me, Kkura, you're tiring yourself too! Is there really no way you can-"
"No! Okay? I can't! It's how my schedule is, being an idol isn't easy!"
Her sudden outburst made you feel guilty. It's true, you were kind of selfish and wanted her all to yourself- but wait, were you selfish? You weren't seeing her at all! However, you were also looking after her, so...
You both sigh, Sakura rubbing her temples. She was tired, like you, and you had to do something about it.
"Can we... Just go to sleep? I'm tired."
You unclench your fists and nod quietly, both of you heading upstairs.
Days pass and you never really spoke about the situation anymore since Sakura's outburst was the thing that shut you up. But then one afternoon, you come back from the grocery store and enter the house to sound...? Faint music?
You slowly make your way upstairs and-
"Wha..."
Sakura, right there, on your bed, playing a game with a PS5 controller in her hands.
"Kkura?"
"Oh, hey, baby."
"Why are you home so early?"
Sakura explains that she took what you said about tiring herself out into consideration and decided to ask for a day or two off, which actually made you quite surprised.
"...so... You took days off to game?"
Sakura laughs.
"You weren't home, so, heh- I was just enjoying myself."
"Since you're here, can we cuddle, please? I missed you so much."
Sakura smiles guiltily.
"Can I... Finish this round first...?
You climb on the bed and smack her shoulder.
"Are you serious?! Sakura! Come on!"
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Just... Please, I'm so close."
"Close to what?!"
"Finishing!"
You look at the screen, and she's at the second phase of some boss fight. You look back at your focused girlfriend, pouting.
"So it's the PS5 you're choosing over me?"
"Love, don't be like that... I'll do whatever you want after this, promise."
You smirk.
"You know, cuddles can wait, but... I kinda wanna punish you."
"Uh... Huh?"
"How 'bout you finish that game while I make you finish inside me?"
As the boss does some long animation for a super attack, Sakura looks at you, her cheeks flushed as you pull down her pants and boxers in one go.
"You're not gonna give me head while playing, right? You're not that evil..."
She gulps, preparing herself as the animation is almost over, no longer looking at you.
"Nah, I'm planning on doing something much worse."
That made Sakura's mind 'unfocus' and she barely dodges the attack, making her heart skip a beat at the fear of almost losing to that. While she was panicking, you were already undressed, sitting on her cock and taking it all at once.
"Fuck- Y/N! You-"
"Shhh, don't focus on me now, or you might lose~"
Sakura groans, tilting her head to the side as she wraps her arms around you, controller on your back as you hug her. Your hands slide inside her oversized shirt, roaming on her creamy back, making her shiver because they were cold.
Your lips find their way on her neck, kissing the warm skin. Sakura's mouth being next to your ear made you hear every single breath and whimper and gasp and moan, literally any sound she made.
"Y/N- Since when did you become so tight?"
"That's because you aren't fucking me so often."
As the third phase begins, you hear Sakura moan as you suck a hickey on her neck then she giggles.
"So you're saying you want me to fuck you more?"
You clench around her cock at her words, smirking as you lick the mark you just gave her. You definitely missed feeling her cock hitting you deep inside your pussy, and the memories coming back to you made you feel all hot and sweaty.
"Maybe~"
You plant a kiss on her cheek, teasingly clenching around her dick. She was so focused on her game, it made you wonder how she didn't just throw her controller and started fucking you yet. She must really like her game...
Your hands snake up to her chest, and since she wasn't wearing a bra, it just made the whole thing much easier for you. You squeeze her breasts, rolling her nipples between your fingers. You just do that for a few moments, hearing Sakura moan and squirm underneath you. And then, a cutscene comes up.
"Your lips look so dry, baby."
"So?"
"How about I take care of them for you, mm?"
And with that, you pull her in a deep kiss, to which she surprisingly doesn't hesitate. Controller in one hand, she runs her second one down to your ass, squeezing one of your cheeks as she lifts you up maybe like one millimeter, then back down, as if telling you to fuck yourself on her dick. But you don't, kissing her even harder now.
"That desperate?"
"Fuck you."
It was now her turn to squeeze your breasts, taking one in hand but having difficulties to squeeze it correctly because of your bra. Unfortunately, she couldn't remove it as she couldn't risk both her hands being busy.
It was kinda funny if you think about it; both of you are just making out while you grind on her cock with random people talking in the background because of Sakura's game.
Sakura now runs her hand on your back, pulling you closer to her body as she feels you clench and clench around her nonstop. You could feel her smirk against your lips, and you couldn't help but smirk back.
It was true she might lose this game because of you, but... She would enjoy the way you're making her lose.
"You're always unsatisfied, Y/N."
"Can you blame me?"
She scoffs and thrusts upwards, making you gasp and tighten your grip around her. The cutscene was finally over so the game gained her focus again, leaving you breathless and dangerously close to cumming. You could tell she was also close by how big her cock became.
"K-Kku...~"
"Ngh- Just a second..."
"Please... Please, let me...~"
Your needy and hot voice in her ear made her gush out more precum inside you that you can assume she already came, but she didn't. All you could hear were your joint heartbeats, heavy breathing, soft moans and game sound effects.
"Sakura-"
"Y/N, just a minute."
"Please, so close~"
"Fuck, Y/N..."
"Cum inside me..."
Sakura's sick throbbed at that, and you moan at the feeling.
"Please... Please, just lose, I'll help you beat that level, you know I'm good at it..."
Well, it wasn't a lie, but Sakura stays stubborn. You jolt your hips forward, making Sakura moan.
"Damnit! Y/N, I-"
"Please, I'm a good girl...~"
You kept begging, but she wasn't listening. Just ignoring you seemed like a good plan to her, but little did you know it was so hard to ignore you.
You gave up, honestly. You knew how Sakura was with her games.
"You're really making me wait..."
"I'm gonna beat it."
"I told you I'd help you, I just wanna cum..."
"I know you don't like the game, that's why I'm beating it now."
You pause to process her words, blushing slightly. Did Sakura really just make you wait for that? Well, it was sweet, you had to say that.
And then, what seemed like an eternity, she beat the game, a golden 'Victory' appearing on the screen. Quickly, she goes back to the main menu and tosses the controller on the other side of the bed, holding your hips and slamming you down on her cock.
"Aaah~! Fuck! You could've warned me!"
"Sorry, princess, but I'm getting damn impatient here~"
Your whole body was bouncing; head, breasts, ass... The perfect view for Sakura. She loved seeing you go wild on her cock.
"So, you wanna cum, huh? Cum for me, baby."
"C-Cum inside me, please, please..."
"Aww, missed my cum? Don't worry, pretty, I'm gonna fill you up good."
Continuing her assault on your pussy, she forces your upper body down to give you a hickey as she starts grinding you back and forth on her length.
"There, we're equal now~"
You'd smile, embarrassed, meeting her lips in another heated kiss. Hands everywhere, she smacks your ass twice, full palms on cheeks, causing loud slapping sounds to echo in the room. Gosh, you loved that.
Your tongues were wrapped around one another, your lips red and sore as you continue your make out session.
"I... I c-can't take anymore~"
"Mm? Okay~"
She breaks the kiss and starts fucking you again – well, forcing you to ride her cock, actually – feeling your cunt tighten and soak her dick.
"I'm gonna fill you up real good."
She looks deep into your eyes.
"Gonna let you have my kids, how 'bout that?"
"Fuck, Kkura, give them to me!"
With one last thrust, she makes you sit on her lap, balls deep inside you as she explodes, releasing all her cum in your cunt. You cum around her, soaking her lap and dick, both of you moaning so loud, your voice cracking like crazy.
You collapse on top of her as she lays down on her back, her cock slipping out of you because you were so damn wet. She chuckles.
"Like the background music? It's really romantic, mm?"
The 'action' hype music along with her sarcasm makes you chuckle in turn.
"Definitely."
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me and the PS5 least you know where I'ma be at night 🗣️
#sakura miyawaki#sakura miyawaki x reader#sakura x reader#le sserafim smut#sakura smut#smut#sakura miyawaki smut#sakura miyawaki x female reader#sakura#g!p sakura x reader#g!p#g!p sakura
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