#and she’s a lesbian so you’re not worried she returns the feelings but it is so annoying

[scionshtola]

shb is such a trying time for cori for many reasons obviously but especially for shtola reasons

[buckymorelikefuckme]

what a wicked thing to do

vampire wanda maximoff x fem reader

words: 4.2k

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** lesbian vampires yes GAWD, fantasy au, inaccurate historical au, smut, fingering, implied soulmates (?? kinda i guess), biting 👀, mention of blood, does this count as hurt/comfort? we shall see!! and uhhh it's kinda spooky ooky vibes but it's not really dark? i think. pls let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: listen..... i've already got spooky season in the brain and i really wanted to reshare this fic. i've edited it a little but i've also left the link to where i orphaned it on ao3 in the title if you prefer reading there~ any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged pls and thank ♡ xoxo

wanda maximoff masterlist || main masterlist

It’s that time of year in between autumn and winter where it’s only getting colder and colder, no reprieve even during the sun’s highest point of the day. Part of you worries it’s a mistake to wander through the woods like this, especially so close to sunset.

But then you remember the briefest moment when you saw her, when your eyes met hers; it happened so quickly, but also felt as if time stopped. Something flashed in her gaze before she looked away and disappeared in the busy crowds of the village.

That moment, as brief as it was, leads you here. You hug your arms tighter to your torso, cursing the bitter wind whipping around you. Your dress had been a bright idea when you’d first thought of it. Now, you’re wondering why you thought such a plunging neckline would be smart, considering the seasonable chill in the air.

Although, you think with a flutter in your stomach, that’s not exactly true. You know exactly why you chose this dress.

There’s hardly any light left in the sky by now. You’re kicking yourself for getting lost in the woods, wondering if anyone would notice, or care, whether or not you return to the village. You have no family, no money, nothing tying you to anyone or anything. You work odd jobs to be able to make ends meet. The people knew of you, but you are sure they hardly concerned themselves with your well-being.

But then, when your gaze had met her own, you’d felt seen for the first time in ages. It was like she could see everything inside your mind, every ounce of longing and every bit of loneliness, even in the split second she held your stare. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since then. Nearly two weeks have passed, and you’d finally decided to find out if the stories that follow her hold any truth. They are quite colorful, full of fantasy and myth, surely decorated to sound more elaborate as the years go on. Fantasy and myth, perhaps, but one particular piece of information continues to remain the same.

She hasn’t seemed to age in the fifteen years she’s spent living near your village. Not one line or wrinkle to be seen on her pale skin. Not one gray hair on her head. Some of the elders even swear they'd seen her when they were children.

Her home is a mystery, one that stays that way out of fear. There is something about her eyes, some say, something off, not quite right. Because of this, no one has felt compelled enough to try finding her home.

At least, not until you.

You’re beginning to think you are truly lost, feeling hopeless, when you finally spot something in the distance. But just as relief washes through you, the rain starts. Each drop feels like sharp, stabbing pieces of ice landing on your exposed flesh, soaking into the thin fabric of your dress. It takes mere minutes for you to become drenched. Your dress is now clinging to your body uncomfortably, the cold even more biting than it already had been.

It comes into view, what you’d spotted several meters back, easier to make out. A looming castle breaks through the trees, windows lit with candles.

Your arms and feet are going numb, but you push through, stumbling your way to a cobblestone path that leads to tall, wooden doors. With a trembling hand, you raise the door knocker and bang it against the door as loud as you can manage, praying whoever is inside will hear.

Your wait is short lived, thankfully. The door creaks open loudly to reveal the very woman you’d been searching for. If she’s shocked to see you, she hides it well. She looks as regal as ever. A black dress hugs her lithe body, her hair perfectly brushed and styled. This close to her, you can see what the people mean. She looks ageless.

“E-excuse me, madam,” you begin, trying your best to keep your teeth from chattering. “I-I’m terribly lost and I d-don’t think I can find my w-way back to the village.”

The woman lets her eyes roam your shivering frame, lingering on your glistening chest for a second, then meets your pleading gaze.

“Of course. Please, do come in. I’m sure you’re cold.”

“Th-thank you,” you reply earnestly.

She steps aside, leaving just enough space for you to squeeze by.

“Think nothing of it,” she assures you. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need, at least until the storm passes.”

As the door closes behind her, you take in as much of the space as possible. With it being nighttime, the candles can only do so much. For a castle, it is rather large, but it’s not quite as foreboding as you would have imagined. Though, you surmise, you hadn’t really known what to expect at all.

“Would you like something dry to change into?”

You whirl around, almost tripping over your feet as her voice registers, so close to your ear.

She smiles, amusement tickling the corners of her mouth. “Perhaps a cup of tea?”

Swallowing roughly, you nod, offering a smile of thanks in return.

“Very good. You should go sit by the fire to warm up while I get everything sorted.”

She points toward a room where you can see flickering light dancing off the walls. You nod again, letting your tired feet follow the promise of warmth. The closer you get to the large fireplace, the harder you shiver, goosebumps rising along your skin. You stand as close as you deem safe, hands held out to thaw them. For the second time, she sneaks up behind you.

“This is all I could manage to find.”

You gasp as you turn to face her. She’s still smiling as she holds up the proffered item of dry clothing.

“You frightened me,” you state dumbly, huffing a quiet laugh.

“I did not mean to,” she replies.

“It’s okay.” You glance at the clothes in her hand, a frown forming on your face. “A… dressing gown?”

She makes a sympathetic face. “It was all I could find,” she repeats.

Her eyes dip down to your chest again. They flash, just like in the village, but you’re sure it could have just been the fire reflecting in them. You look down to see what she’s staring at and heat rushes up your neck. Your nipples are clearly outlined against the wet fabric of your dress.

“Oh,” you murmur as you lift your arms to cover yourself.

She clears her throat delicately. “Take this. You’ll get sick if you keep your wet clothes on.” She pointedly holds the dressing gown out to you again until you gingerly take it. “I’ll go get the kettle started while you change.”

“Thank you,” you return quietly.

When you’re sure she’s gone, you undress as quickly as you can, more shivers wracking your frame as you stand naked in her drawing room for a few seconds before pulling on the silk dressing gown, tying it securely around your waist.

While you wait you decide to get a better look of the room. A few paintings hang on the dark walls, but mostly they’re covered with floor to ceiling shelves and stuffed to the brim with books. You take notice of a few spots where the dust hasn’t seemed to settle in front of them, figuring those must be her favorites. A plush chaise sits in the center of the room with two chairs on either side, atop an ornate rug that rests on most of the floor. There are a couple small tables between the chaise and chairs with candelabras on them, and a wide, lower table in front of them. You spot a desk by the only window in the room.

There’s nothing particularly personal about the space. It almost feels as if she’s newly moved in. But you know that can’t be true, especially since so many people in the village have seen her visit town for years now.

A piece of parchment on the desk catches your eye. You debate over whether or not you should let your curiosity get the better of you, your feet slowly carrying you over to where the paper lay. There’s writing on the top piece, and you get as far as the addressed “Brother,” but then hear her round the corner and quickly back away.

“I wasn’t sure if you took cream and sugar, so I brought them just in case,” she tells you, setting a silver tray on the low-lying table that held the teapot and teacups.

You walk over as she pours the tea into both cups. You pick one up and carefully drop two lumps of sugar into yours, stirring it with your teaspoon until you’re satisfied it’s melted. A careful sip as you sit down and you hum happily.

“Better?” she asks, smiling and taking a sip of her own tea, sitting beside you.

It occurs to you suddenly that you hadn’t asked for introductions. You scold yourself internally, knowing you had better etiquette than that.

“I must apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners. I never introduced myself,” you say, then offer your name. “And what is yours, madam?”

“You may call me Wanda,” she replies.

“Well, I owe you a great deal for helping me, Wanda. I cannot thank you enough.”

She waves a dismissive hand. “Please, there is no need. I’m glad I was here and that you aren’t in danger of freezing to death.”

“As am I,” you respond, laughing lightly.

Silence settles between you. Your mind whirls with hundreds of questions, but you don’t know where to begin. Your plan to find her only consisted of just that— finding her. Now that you’re here, you aren’t quite sure what to do. Or say, for that matter.

You can feel her eyes observing you like a caress. You struggle not to squirm or shiver, though you are no longer cold. No, there is no chill clinging to your bones anymore. Her stare alone provides enough heat. You chance a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, but she catches it. She purses her lips to keep from smiling in amusement.

“So,” you blurt, cheeks pinking, “have you lived here long?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as soon as the words leave your mouth. Stupid, stupid girl.

Thankfully, Wanda laughs.

“Quite,” she says teasingly, like she’s letting you in on a joke.

You nod. “I see. Is it a family home?”

She tilts her head consideringly. “Of a sort.”

What is that supposed to mean? Miraculously, you don’t ask that question aloud.

“Do you… Do you live alone?”

You’re not sure why you ask. Perhaps it’s that you haven’t heard any other movement throughout the castle that indicated a waiting staff of some sort. Afterall, she was the one to fetch the tea.

“I do,” she says.

You don’t want to examine it too closely, but you’re positive you note a hint of longing in her tone.

“S’a lot of space for one person,” you muse in acknowledgment.

She nods. “Indeed. However, I’m sure I’ll find the right companion soon.”

You take another sip of your tea to avoid replying, but are not able to avoid meeting her gaze. The look in her eyes is something you’ve never seen directed at you. You’re hesitant to think it could be want, open desire. Not from a woman like her.

—

Wanda still cannot believe that you’d shown up at her door.

She’s spent months watching you from a distance, never allowing herself to be seen by you—not until she felt it was time. From the very first moment she caught sight of you, she knew. You are hers. Her mouth watered when the wind brought your scent to her. There was not a doubt in her mind about whether she would have you; she simply would.

She had waited, ever so patiently, watching you as you roamed the streets of the village. You didn’t seem to have very many acquaintances, if any at all, and you were always alone. Wanda quickly figured out that you were without a family as well.

Selfishly, she’d been happy about these facts.

Finally, Wanda allowed herself to meet your gaze. It was quick, but she knew her eyes flashed, knew that she piqued your curiosity. It would only be a matter of time.

After nearly two weeks had gone by, however, she had started to think it hadn’t worked. She’d planned on returning to town to purposefully cross your path again, but as luck would have it, you came to her. As soon as she heard the knock on her door, she smiled.

Now, as she sits next to you on the chaise, your skin glowing in the firelight, she finds it harder to maintain her control. This close, your scent is even more intoxicating. Wanda can tell that you’re curious about her. The questions you want to ask are swirling behind your eyes. And now that you’re here, she decides she’ll answer whatever you ask, give you anything you want.

You’ve gone quiet, though, so she does some prodding of her own.

“What were you doing out in the woods?” Dressed like that, blessedly, goes unsaid.

You shyly glance down at your lap. “I, uh, I like to take walks,” you mutter into your teacup as you go to take another sip.

Wanda hums. A plausible excuse, indeed. You carefully lean forward to set your cup and saucer on the table and when you sit back you move your hair over to one shoulder. Wanda’s eyes zero in on the pulsepoint of your neck. If she focuses hard enough, she can see your heartbeat throbbing beneath your skin. It makes her teeth itch, makes her control waver even more.

When she drags her gaze away from your neck, she finds you already observing her. Her desire is clearly reflected in your eyes and the feeling is heady.

—

“Are you warm now?” she wonders.

“Yes,” you whisper, your breathing picking up, making your breasts heave alluringly.

You’d go as far as saying you are overheating. The dressing gown, where you’d been unsure and embarrassed of being nude underneath it before, is now a blessing. Your body feels alight with an unseen, growing fire. Shifting on the chaise, you don’t notice the sleeve slip down your shoulder, only registering the air skimming across your collarbones. You let out a surprised gasp when you feel something cold on your bare arm.

Peering down reveals it to be Wanda’s hand carefully sliding the sleeve back up into place. Your brows pull together in a frown.

“Your hand…” you mumble, trailing off.

She lets it linger on your shoulder for a moment, then slowly traces down your arm, her thumb grazing the side of your breast. Your nipples tighten, thighs clenching together as you watch her fingers stop at your wrist. Though her touch is cold, it feels like a relief against the searing heat of your flesh. You peek at her through your lashes and find her expression to be one of complete hunger.

Feeling emboldened, you hold her stare as you shift to pull the sleeve down again.

Her lips lift on one side, her teeth glinting dangerously. “Are you sure of what you’re doing?” she asks.

You blink, faux innocence shifting behind your eyes. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Wanda takes a deep, steadying breath, though it only helps in inhaling your scent more. She says your name. “Why do you think you are here?” The question catches you off guard. Wanda shifts even closer to you, watching your throat bob as you swallow. “We both know it isn’t because you accidentally got lost in the woods. You were out there with a purpose. What was it?”

You lick your lips, noticing her gaze immediately drop to them. It makes your heart pound in your chest.

“I don’t know,” you reply, unsure.

She leans in, her nose nearly touching yours. “You do,” she whispers, without doubt. “Why are you here?”

Your eyes flutter closed, head tilting back without you being aware of it, exposing your neck. You feel her presence mere centimeters away from you, her breath puffing out along the column of your throat.

“I… I felt drawn here. It feels like I was meant to be here,” you say, quiet, almost hoping she doesn’t hear you.

It feels ridiculous to say it out loud. It’s one thing to have that thought sit in the back of your mind where you could pretend it didn’t exist, but to admit it aloud is entirely different.

“With me?”

You shiver at her words, her lips having softly dragged across your skin. Helplessly, you nod.

“Are you afraid?”

That makes you frown, but you adamantly reply, “No.”

“Open your eyes,” she pleads.

You follow her instruction, wary, but gasp at what you see. Sharp fangs peek out from Wanda’s lips, her eyes so pale they’re almost white now. Though your heart continues to race, it’s not out of fear. It should scare you, it should send you running, but you find your hand slowly rising to carefully trace a finger down one of her fangs, amazed that she even lets you.

“You’re…” You start, meeting her patient gaze once more. “Beautiful,” you finish in a whisper, because she is. You go to reach for her face to stroke her cheek, but she lurches backward. In a blink, Wanda’s on the other side of the chaise. Disbelief paints her features.

“You think I’m… beautiful?”

“Of course,” you state plainly, brows furrowing. Wanda continues staring at you in wonder. “You said I was here for a reason.” Ironically, she’s now wary of you as you shuffle closer to her. “I know what that reason is now.”

“Which is?” she asks apprehensively.

“You,” you murmur, cupping her cheek. “I’m here for you.”

Wanda looks as if she’s scared to accept this, to hope for it to be real. You steal away those worries by leaning in to place a soft kiss to her lips. She inhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut, her cold hands gripping your wrist almost painfully. You give her a moment, kissing her forehead as she gathers her emotions, keeping her gaze down.

“Are you sure?”

Her voice cracks softly, but her grip on your wrist loosens as you move it. You lift her chin so she’s looking at you.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

She stares at your lips for a few seconds, and then, as your words sink in, they seem to send her into action. She surges forward and captures your lips, more sure, more eager than before. You respond in kind, pulling her as close as possible, sighing into her mouth.

You quickly find yourself on your back on the chaise, Wanda above you, bodies slotting perfectly into each other like lost puzzle pieces. You feel her hand slide down from where it was in your hair to graze along your sternum. Then her hand cups your breast, thumb swiping across your nipple, and you gasp. It’s the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss and Wanda takes it.

Her tongue slides against yours and you whine, clutching at her like she’s the only thing tethering you to this earth. It becomes so easy to let her settle between your thighs, to arch into her touch and slide your tongue in her mouth, delicately tracing over her fangs. Wanda shudders, grunting inelegantly before wrenching herself away, panting heavily into the space between you. You blindly chase after her, opening your eyes in confusion.

Wanda’s gaze is intent on your neck, full of desire. The weight of the moment hits you, then. What exactly it would mean if you give in to her. So, with full faith in your decision, you tilt your head ever so slightly and she goes perfectly still.

“Go ahead,” you encourage.

She shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

You huff. “I do. I want you to do this.” You know she won’t look at you just yet, so you lace both your and her fingers together and squeeze hers as you continue. “I need you to do this.”

“If I do,” she starts, swallowing thickly, “I won’t be able to stop. You’ll end up like me.”

You duck your head to catch her stare. “And what’s wrong with that?”

She closes her eyes and falls silent for a moment. The weight of your words fall over the two of you like a winter blanket.

“I’ve waited so long,” she confesses, voice quiet, shaking and timid.

“For me?” you ask. She nods. “I’ve been looking for something, or someone, to make me feel whole all my life.” You use your free hand to stroke her cheek. Even with her eyes closed, she leans into you. “I’ve waited for you, too.”

When she finally looks at you, you know there’s no going back for either of you.

“It’s going to hurt,” she warns.

“That’s okay. It will only be temporary.”

She smiles then, slow and teasing. “I can ease the pain, you know.”

Her free hand tugs lightly on the ties holding your dressing gown closed, raising her eyebrows in silent question. You bite your lip and nod, shivering in anticipation. She undoes the careful bow you’d tied, easing it open and exposing your body to her hungry gaze.

If you felt heated before, you’re an inferno now. Her hands reverently map out every curve of your body. She leans down and plants a kiss above your belly button. It makes your stomach clench in want, but you make yourself lie there and take whatever she plans on giving you. Her kisses lead up your torso, until she’s eye level with your breasts, and before you can comprehend her movement, she’s taking one of your nipples into her mouth.

“God,” you whimper, head thrown back as you push your chest into her face.

“No,” Wanda giggles, “just me.”

You try to laugh, but it turns into a gasping moan when she pinches your other nipple between cold fingers. Your thighs attempt to close around her, yet it’s futile. Her free hand begins its descent down to the warm heat between your legs. Your hips buck into her touch, crying out when her fingers make contact with your clit.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make this feel good, okay? Let me take care of you.”

You nod quickly, your mouth going dry. When a single finger enters you, you forget how to breathe for a second, but then she’s sliding it out and back in, setting a steady rhythm, and you’re back to panting and whining. Only a few minutes later, though, you’re wriggling around, begging for more. She adds another finger and picks up the pace.

“Oh,” you gasp, your legs falling open wider.

Wanda buries her face in your neck, inhaling loudly, groaning. She licks across the skin there, nipping at you.

“Wanda,” you whimper.

“I know, my love,” she rasps. “You’re so close.”

Your hands have drifted above you, clutching at the pillows on the chaise, your hips moving in tandem with her fingers. Her thumb meets your clit, adding to the building warmth in your belly. It swells and swells, until finally, it has nowhere else to go and explodes within you.

You feel her teeth sink into your neck at the very same moment, and you can only yell brokenly into the air. Pain and pleasure war inside you, both white hot and searing, marrying themselves into a delicious and lethal combination. You can feel blood trickle down your throat, the same way you can still feel her fingers thrusting into you. It seems to never end and you grow limp beneath her, unable to handle the sensations flowing through you.

She finally slows, removing her teeth and licking over the wound. As her fingers slide free, she brushes your sweaty hair off your forehead with her clean hand.

“Sleep now,” she instructs, kissing you softly.

You can’t even attempt to argue, your body listening to her and promptly sending you into a deep slumber.

—

When you wake, before you even open your eyes, you’re aware of a few things.

To start, you’re no longer on the chaise. You’re on a luxurious bed, which is presumably Wanda’s. Your hearing is significantly better, as is your sense of smell. There’s a low thrum of energy coursing through your veins, like you’re on edge but don’t know why. But the more important thing you’re aware of is the feeling of eyes on you.

“I know you’re awake now.”

You crack open one eye and see Wanda smirking at you from the other end of the bed. You smile and sigh happily.

“How do you feel?” she asks.

You carefully sit up and stretch. You notice her ogling your still naked body and give her a smirk of your own. Shifting onto your knees, you crawl over the bed until you reach her and straddle her lap.

“Hungry,” you answer before grasping her face in your hands and attaching your mouth to hers.

With a force she hadn’t used before, she tosses you backward and is on top of you in a flash, a devilish smile on her tragically beautiful face.

“Good.”

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

Unrequited // Hazel Callahan

request: Could you write a college Hazel x femme reader where they're roommates and Hazel is in their shared room upset, crying cause they have a really horrible friend who convinced Hazel that reader doesn't like her back and got all in her head about it.

prompts: none!

summary: when pj convinces hazel that there’s no way you could return her feelings, hazel starts to push you away, hurting you in the process.

warnings: none!

word count: 1.5k

a/n: gn!reader, reader is implied to be a lesbian

join my taglist!

“Look, you need to get over yourself. It’s never going to happen. Ever,” PJ said as she sat down next to Hazel.

Before PJ had so rudely interrupted, Hazel was gazing at you from across the quad, blissfully lost in her thoughts about you. Since the beginning of the school year, all Hazel could think about was you. You had been assigned as roommates, and ever since Hazel first saw you she was utterly, completely, and hopelessly in love with you. And sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder if you could ever feel the same. But unfortunately, PJ wasn’t having it.

“What?” Hazel asked as she looked over to PJ, a bit startled by her sudden appearance and slightly aggressive tone.

“There is no way they like you back. None. Zero. So get over it.”

Hazel frowned at her best friend’s words. “You really think so?”

PJ groaned in exasperation. “Uh, yeah. I mean just look at them. They’re like the straightest person ever. And even if by some miracle they were gay, there’s no way in hell you could pull them.”

Hazel tried not to let it show how much PJ’s words had affected her, but they had cut deep. Her eyes watered slightly and she quickly blinked to fight back the tears. Of course you would never like her. You’re… amazing. And she’s just… Hazel.

“Yeah… maybe you’re right,” Hazel sniffled, ultimately failing to hold back her tears. “Uhm, I- I’m gonna go. See you later.”

Hazel gathered her things and headed towards her dorm room, hurriedly wiping away her tears. At that moment, you looked up and saw her storming away, looking utterly miserable, and you felt your heart ache. You hated it when Hazel was sad, of course, you hated when anyone was sad, but with Hazel it was different. All you wanted was for her to be happy, and it killed you when she wasn’t. Hurriedly grabbing your bag, you rushed after her, hoping you could help make her smile again.

~

You were about to open the door to your dorm when you heard a soft sniffling from the other side. You frowned, Hazel was crying. So instead, you lightly knocked on the door, not wanting to intrude if she wanted to be alone.

“Hazel? Can I come in?” you asked, pressing your ear against the door and straining to hear her answer.

When she didn’t answer, you raised your hand to knock again, but Hazel pulled the door open just before you could. You felt your heart sink at the look of utter devastation on her face, and you wished you could just take all her pain away.

You stepped forward to hug her, but Hazel stepped back, walking over to her bed and sitting back down, pulling her knees to her chest.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Hazel always let you hug her. Something must’ve really been wrong.

You stepped inside and shut the door behind you before you walked over to your bed and sat down, facing her. You slipped your bag off your shoulder and pulled off your jacket, waiting to see if Hazel wanted to talk about it. When it became clear that she didn’t want to say anything, you took it upon yourself to break the silence.

“Hazel, what’s wrong? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Hazel didn’t reply, staring blankly into space. Now you were really worried. She was almost never sad, and even when she was it wasn’t this bad. You stood up and walked over to her, sitting down beside her.

“Talk to me. Please. I wanna help,” you whispered, looking at her intently.

Hazel shook her head and hugged her legs tighter. “You can’t help me. You’re just making this worse.”

Your heart shattered at her words. The last thing you would ever want to do was hurt you. You loved her. And seeing her so miserable just broke your heart.

“Are you upset with me? Did I do something?”

Hazel sighed, her sobs quieting down slightly. “Just go away. Leave me alone.”

Your felt your eyes begin to water as her words struck you. She had to have been upset with you, but you had no idea what you’d done. She was so upset she didn’t even want you around her. All you wanted to do was make it better, to make her smile again. But it was starting to seem like it wouldn’t be such an easy fix this time.

“Alright then. If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone,” you said, getting up and grabbing your jacket, heading out of the room to give Hazel the space she asked for.

Once you were gone, Hazel only started to cry harder. She could tell her words had hurt you, and that just made her feel worse. She didn’t want you to leave, not really. It’s just that being around you only reminded her of what she couldn’t have. And that only made everything she was feeling even worse.

~

It had been a few days since you had found Hazel crying in your shared dorm room, and ever since she had pretty much been avoiding you. You missed her so much, you were so used to spending almost every day with her, and now that she was avoiding you, all you could feel was the pain of her missing presence.

You just wanted her back. You wanted to know what you did to hurt her so badly. You wanted to fix it, to make things right again so you could finally have the best thing that had ever happened to you back in your life again. But as the days passed, you knew the likelihood of that was dwindling.

You were sitting on your bed attempting to do homework, not making any progress because all you could think about was Hazel, when the door opened and Hazel stepped in. Her eyes widened when she saw you, a grimace appearing on her face.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d be here. I think I’m just gonna go…” she said awkwardly, turning to walk back out the door.

“Don’t go! Please…” the utter desperation in your voice made Hazel stop in her tracks.

You sniffled, all of your pent up emotions finally spilling out. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Whatever I did to make you hate me so much, I’m sorry. I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts. Just please… tell me how I can fix this,” you pleaded, your voice breaking as you began to cry.

Hazel felt horrible. She had only been ignoring you to protect her own feelings, and she didn’t even stop to consider yours. Hazel closed the door behind her and walked over to your bed, sitting down beside you.

“You- you didn’t do anything,” Hazel admitted guiltily.

“Then why are you avoiding me? Why do you hate me so much? Did you just get tired of me?” you began to cry harder, too overwhelmed by your feelings.

“I- I can’t say…” Hazel mumbled, torn between wanting to comfort you and keeping her feelings hidden out of fear of pushing you away ever more than she already had.

You turned to look at her, your eyes red and puffy and your cheeks wet with tears. Hazel frowned, and against her better judgment, she pulled you into a hug. You felt yourself relax into her embrace, hugging her back tightly, not ever wanting to let go.

“Hazel, please. Just tell me what’s wrong. I love you. I don’t want things to just end like this.”

Hazel froze. Surely she must’ve heard you wrong. There’s no way you could’ve just said that you loved her. It just wasn’t possible.

“What did you just say?” Hazel asked, slightly in shock from what she thought she heard.

You sighed and pulled away from her embrace, wiping your tears away with the back of your hands. “I- I said I love you. I know this is an absolutely horrible time to say something like this, especially because you seem to hate being around me all of a sudden, but I love you. I’ve loved you practically since we first met. And I know that-”

Hazel cut you off, connecting her lips to yours. You squeaked in shock from the unexpected action before completely melting into her touch. You kissed back eagerly, not ever wanting the moment to end.

Hazel pulled away first, resting her forehead against yours as she panted for breath. Coming down from the high of finally getting to kiss the girl you’ve been in love with for months, you only felt more confused.

“I’m sorry,” Hazel said, taking your hands in hers. “I- I never meant to hurt you like this. I- I love you too. And I was only avoiding you like this because PJ had me convinced that you could never like me back and I just couldn’t stand to be around you because of how much it hurt. But I never realized that I would be hurting you too. I am so so sorry. Is there any way you could forgive me?”

You smiled softly, sniffling again as you wiped away your tears. “I’ll forgive you. On one condition.”

Hazel nodded eagerly. “Yeah, anything.”

You smiled as you leaned in. “Kiss me again.”

tags: @hazelvrr

[starscabaret]

College Student Athlete Yandere! Elizabeth Gets Jealous ✧.*

pairing : yandere! elizabeth  x fem reader 

summary : Lizzie fucks reader in a jealous possessive rage after she catches her flirting with the other team after a tough loss

authors note : this is lesbian elizabeth is a girllll

warnings: nsfw, established relationship, Crying, rough, dramatic, dub-con, strap-on, smacking…just whew

You stood around defeated on the court as the other team and fans cheered and celebrated around you. You joined Lizzie at an away game. Her team should have won, they were predicted to win. But the game turned sour when the referees seemed to favor the opponent. Lizzie’s team had lost. You were upset but even more upset for Lizzie as you knew what the game meant to her. The game had just ended, and she joined her team in the locker room with no time to talk to you. You were waiting for her to come out of the locker room so you two could return to the hotel room and relax for the evening. You stand around with a group of friends and family of Lizzie’s teammates when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Uh hey! You’re Elizabeth Moore’s girlfriend right?” a player from the other team smiles down at you.

“Yeah, I am…” you state a bit puzzled. 

“We saw you on her Instagram and were wondering if we could get a picture with you! You two are the cutest couple!” She asks enthusiastically. It’s only now you notice the rest of the other team standing behind her. 

“Aww, that’s so sweet yeah sure!” you reply, you’re a bit shocked people know of you and Lizzie. But you can’t say no to all these nice girls. 

The girl that approached you hands her phone off to someone nearby while you and the girls start to move around for a picture.

“You two in the middle!” someone shouts.

You stand in the middle surrounded by these giant women a bit intimidated but flattered as they gush over your relationship.

Due to the severe height difference the girl beside you, the one that approached you, leans into you resting her elbow on the top of your head you all laugh because it makes for a funny shot.

The person with the phone is snapping multiple photos. You get distracted enjoying the girl’s humor and posing for the photographs, so you miss Lizzie exiting the locker room and coming onto the court to look for you. 

That is until you see her standing behind the cameraman looming over them.

“y/n come here please we are leaving.” Lizzie glares at you, with her jaw clenched gripping her duffle bag tightly on one hand. 

“Sorry Moore, just had to borrow her for a second!” The girl beside you says causing all of her teammates to laugh. 

“Of course, Lizzie, let’s get back so you can rest.” You say scurrying over towards her, eager to make her feel better about the tough loss. 

Oddly Lizzie doesn’t even reply, she just heads for the exit.

“Bye ladies, nice meeting you all!” You shout running out of the gym after Lizzie. 

At the hotel, you are lying in bed in your pajamas as Lizzie takes a long shower. This was typical of her after any game, so you have no worries. That is until she comes out. Long blonde hair slightly wet, completely naked except for her favorite strap-on. 

“Oh hi, babe.” You whisper just assuming she was feeling frisky as usual. 

“Don’t hi babe me y/n. You know how I get about you.” She replies with a glare.

“Huh? What’s wrong? did I do something?” You question. 

Without replying she makes her way to the edge of the bed grabbing your ankles once her shins hit the bed. She pulls you to the edge of the bed throwing your legs open revealing the panties you wear under your t-shirt. She moves her large hand down between your thighs gripping your whole mound. 

“This is mine. You are mine.” She says while looking you in the eye, and moving her hand so her thumb is pressed against your clothed opening. 

“Yes, I know.” you gulp nervous as to what is bothering her but also too aroused to ask again. 

“You weren’t acting like it today. Why the fuck were you taking pictures with them? I saw her arm on you. I saw you giggling and smiling at their lame-ass jokes.” She glares at you while pressing her large thumb even deeper into your opening, creating a damp spot right where she pressed. 

“Uh I, they just asked for a picture, Liz. “You breathe out.

You feel her hand pull away from your pussy. you almost whine immediately for her touch to return. But you don’t have to before you can blink, she lays a stinging slap to your pussy over your panties. 

“You think I care about that?” She huffs grabbing your jaw to look at her. 

Before you can even answer her question her hands are at your hips pulling your panties down. 

“I don’t, all I care about is this right here. You. You know that. They only did that to piss me off you know. Losing the game, we should have won and then putting their hands on you, my love? Oh, that was the cherry on top. Next time we will win. I promise you that. But for now, you need to learn something.”

She rants while still looking you in the eye while sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“What is it, Liz?” You ask fully obedient and ready to calm her any way you could. 

“You’re mine, no one else’s. Ever. I don’t want those girls or anyone touching you like that ever again. Or I swear to God y/n I will hurt them. Now sit. Obviously you didn’t believe it before, so ill fuck it into your brain.” She speaks against your lips grabbing your hips to lift you over her. placing your thighs outside of hers with her cock between your legs. 

Already so obedient and eager for her cock you reply, “Yes mommy.”

You have no trouble sliding yourself to the base of her length. Her possessive nature had softened and moistened your warm cunt. Even though you hate to admit it. 

Once your clit meets her strap, she grabs your hips using her strong hips and arms to bounce you on her strap. After just a few bounces you feel as if she is going to split you in half. You moan aloud almost drooling at her pace. 

“Yeah, look at you, you’re getting it now good girl.” She coos as she continues pounding and massaging the walls of your pussy. 

But it’s not enough for her. She has to continue drilling it into your head. You are hers, and no one else’s. Her frustration from losing the game combined with her intense emotions at watching you interact with the opponent drove her insane. 

She moves her hands from the tight grip she has on your hips, which she is using like handles to fuck you like a toy. Her arms make their way around your torso pulling you flush against her with her face breast into your breast. She continues her pounding by thrusting her strong hips into you. Rutting and moving the strap into your hole like she was opening you for the first time again. 

“Mine, OK? You promise?” She asks into your chest fervently moving her mouth around to suck bite and nuzzle her face into your boobs. 

“Yes, Mommy I promise.” You throw your head back shouting willing to say whatever you needed to for her to keep fucking you on her cock. Also to appease the dark urges you knew she had at seeing you with others. 

Lizzie still in a possessive jealous frenzy kept fucking you causing you to scream and moan out. Your clit hitting the base of her cock, your hole full of her, it all became too much. You were going to cum soon. 

Too cock drunk to notice earlier you feel tears against your chest as Elizabeth’s face is pressed against it. Still full of her strap you look down at her and she’s crying. 

“Liz what’s wrong honey?” You ask lifting her face to look at you.

But she doesn’t stop fucking you. She speeds up her pace widening and opening your little cunt even more. 

“Please y/n, don’t leave me. I love you. I’ll take care of you. I’m all you need ever.” She chants as she continues lifting you up and down her strap like a toy. The desperation and tears in her eyes make you even wetter as she fucks her devotion into you. 

“I won’t Liz, I won’t ever.” You respond as tears well up in your own eyes from her emotions and the aching stretch of her cock inside you. 

She notices your orgasm building up. To make sure her message was heard she flips you onto your back shoving her cock deeper into you as she leans over you. 

“I know princess, I know.” She chants whilst grabbing your jaw and fucking you to an orgasm. Your arms wrap around her holding her close, calming the shock waves running throughout your whole body. 

She doesn’t stop after your orgasm; she continues slowly rutting into you with her sore body. Giving all that she has even after exhausting her body during the game. 

Once she becomes too tired to thrust into you anymore, and you are thoroughly fucked, and the bed is covered in your juices she doesn’t pull out. She keeps her strap in you and lays all her weight on you heavy breathing and kissing into your neck. 

You are too cock drunk to try to clean yourself. You rest and let her lay on top of you controlling and owning your body, in the way that she pleases.

Both exhausted from the day’s events you too fall asleep with her strap still stretching her pretty pussy. 

[magicfootballstuff]

Dirty Little Secret - part 3 (leila ouahabi x reader)

Summary: A love story about secrets, flirty messages, football rivalries, and useless lesbians who don’t know how to communicate. And it all starts with one badly timed challenge in the Champions League.

Leila Ouahabi x Arsenal!reader

Part 3/?

Read other parts here.

———

Your life can be split into two parts - before the Arnold Clark Cup and after the Arnold Clark Cup.

Or before Leila and after Leila.

You return to Arsenal and it’s surprisingly easy to settle back into the club routine and prepare for the next league game. You’d been slightly worried that it would be difficult to adjust, an abrupt return to reality after ten days of secret meetings and illicit hookups, but life at Arsenal is exactly as it was before.

It helps that the Arnold Clark Cup almost feels like it took place in a different reality. What you had with Leila was just a holiday fling between two consenting adults. You’ve both returned to your real lives now.

But then one evening three weeks after the international break, you’re tidying your apartment and sorting through things to have a clearout, when you find Leila’s red Spain jersey amongst a pile of clothes. You trace your finger over the yellow number fifteen on the front, then flip it over to look at Leila’s name on the back. You haven’t yet washed it and when you lift it to your nose and inhale, you’re sure you can still smell Leila’s scent on it, and you know that you didn’t imagine those two weeks at all.

You haven’t talked to Leila since you parted ways at the end of the international break, but seeing her shirt brings a whirlwind of memories that leaves you yearning for something.

Before you even have time to second guess yourself, you’re swapping your sweatshirt for Leila’s football shirt, then sprawling artfully across your bed as you take a selfie from above and send it to Leila.

You Thanks for the new pyjamas

It’s just a bit of fun - just like every other moment you shared with Leila. Part of you doesn’t expect her to reply. And she doesn’t straight away, you’ve given up on sorting and have settled down on the sofa to watch a Manchester City men’s game on the television when your phone finally vibrates with a response.

Leila Looking gooood 🤤

She doesn’t say anything else and you leave it there, not sure what else to say without coming across as too eager, so you set your phone aside and give your full attention to the football.

An hour has passed before another message comes through.

Leila Sorry I was out for dinner but home now

She’s attached an image to her message, a picture of her wearing the England shirt you exchanged with her. Except that she’s wearing just the England shirt, the hem coming down to cover her hips but very little else, her long legs bare.

You Leilaaaaa

Suddenly you don’t care about the football on the TV anymore.

———

Arsenal gets knocked out of the Champions League in the quarter finals by Wolfsburg, which means you miss out on the opportunity to play against Leila again in the semi final. Your last glimmer of hope that you might get to see Leila before a possible meeting during the Euros in the summer is snuffed out.

But when Barcelona beats Wolfsburg to advance to the final, you receive a surprising message a few days later.

Leila You coming to the Champions League final?

You hadn’t really given it much thought to be honest, since your own Champions League journey came to an end and it became irrelevant. The final is after your own season ends and there’s been talk amongst some of your Arsenal teammates of going on holiday together before you all split off into your various national teams for the Euros, but nothing set in stone.

The chance to watch Leila play in such an important match, to possibly even see her lift the trophy that every footballer in Europe dreams of lifting, would be special. But you haven’t seen Leila since the Arnold Clark Cup and there’s not enough of a thing going on between you for it to seem appropriate for you to just show up without Leila’s permission.

You Do you want me to come?

Before even waiting for Leila’s response, you already start checking your diary, working out the logistics of a spontaneous weekend in Turin and whether it fits in with your pre-Euro schedule.

Leila Yeahhhh. I can get a free ticket if you want? Barca friends and family area

You smile to yourself as you type out your reply.

You Aww, am I your friend? 😉 Why do you think I’d be cheering for Barca anyway? Maybe I’m a big Lyon fan

Leila replies straight away.

Leila 🖕

———

It turns out that Leila is serious about her offer of a ticket to the Champions League final, which is why just two weeks after the end of your season with Arsenal and the heartbreak of missing out on the title by just a single point, you get on a plane to Turin by yourself.

You don’t own a Barcelona shirt and though you take the Spain shirt from Leila with you, it stays in your suitcase as you head to the stadium. Having not yet had the chance to talk to Leila in person, you’re still not sure exactly what’s going on between you and it feels like a step too far to show up to one of her games wearing her name on your back. 

Instead, you’re trying to keep a low profile, donning a pair of dark sunglasses in the hope that it’ll make you less likely to get spotted by eager-eyed fans curious to discover why you’re sitting in the Barcelona family section.

It’s easy to get swept up in the atmosphere of the stadium. There are way more Barcelona fans than Lyon fans and the noise they make is immense. You’re a Manchester City fan, an Arsenal player, but tonight you’re a culer. You don’t know the chants but you don’t need to because you get caught up in the pure thrill of it all. Even when Barcelona go one, two, three goals down, the singing continues and there’s still belief that they can pull this back. Alexia gets one back just before half time that feels like a reward to the fans for their belief in the team.

But despite Barcelona’s best efforts in the second half, Lyon’s three goals prove too much to overcome and when the final whistle blows, they collapse to the pitch, exhausted and defeated.

You watch as Leila, who spent the game on the bench, wanders onto the pitch at full time, and your heart breaks for her when you see the hurt on her face and the tears shining in her eyes. You know that Barcelona were favourites and if you’re completely honest, you expected them to win. You thought that you would be celebrating with Leila tonight, but Lyon have the best record in this competition for a reason and now you need to prepare yourself to console her.

It’s quite a lot for something that’s just a casual friends with benefits situation, but then again, so is flying to Italy to watch the final in the first place. 

The trophy ceremony seems to drag on forever, as if you’re down there on the pitch on the losing team yourself. You’ve been on the wrong side of a cup final enough times yourself to know that there are very few worse feelings in football than having to stay on the pitch after losing such an important game and watching another team celebrate with the trophy you wanted to lift, so you know exactly how Leila must be feeling right now.

After the ceremony, the Barcelona players wander over to this section of the crowd and greet their families over the advertising boards. You hang back as Leila exchanges hugs with what you assume to be her family. This moment is for them, not for you, and you know that you need to wait for Leila to beckon you across if she wants to see you. What would you say to them anyway? You can hardly introduce yourself to Leila’s parents as the girl who hooked up with their daughter for two weeks in February. If the roles were reversed, you don’t know if you’d want to explain the situation to your own family.

So you wait, and you keep waiting. 

But Leila doesn’t beckon you over. In fact, she doesn’t even acknowledge you’re there at all.

The longer you’re standing there, the more the doubt starts to cloud your mind. At first it was explainable - there are obviously other people here to see Leila who she would prioritise talking to after the game more than you. But when she moves away from her own family to talk to the family of her teammates, then eventually moves back onto the pitch and hovers around a group of dejected Barcelona players, you start to wonder if Leila has forgotten that she invited you entirely.

Maybe you should’ve been more assertive. Maybe you should’ve stood closer to the barrier so that Leila couldn’t miss you.

You sit down again on the plastic stadium seat and pull out your phone, deciding to message Leila instead

You Sorry about the result but I’m so proud of you anyway! Let me know when you’re free? I can’t wait to see you!

When you look up, you can no longer see Leila. You scan the few blaugrana shirts still on the pitch just in case, but most of the team seems to have returned inside to the dressing room and you can only assume that Leila is one of them. The crowd has thinned out too, even the friends and family sections that were full long after the rest of the fans started to leave the stadium is starting to empty, and you know it’s probably time for you to leave too.

As you make your way out of the stands, you find a quiet corner on the almost deserted stadium concourse and decide to call Leila. You’re not sure if she’s checked her phone yet since the final whistle, so it’s not exactly a surprise when it rings straight through to her voicemail, but you decide to leave a message anyway.

“Leila, it’s me,” you say. “Listen, I…” You let out a sigh, then say, “I know you must be hurting right now. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling and I … and I just wish I could do something or say something to make it better but I can’t. But I’m proud of you. Just getting to the final is an achievement. Shit, I know that’s not what you need to hear right now but…”

You lean your head against the nearest wall and close your eyes in frustration, fully aware that you’re rambling almost nonsensically at this point.

“I’m here if you need me,” you continue. “Or if you don’t, that’s fine too. I’m leaving the stadium to get some food, then I’ll probably go back to my hotel, but just let me know you’re okay?”

You hesitate for just a few seconds, unsure how to sign off, before you panic and just end the message there. 

“Fuck!” you growl.

You turn around to lean your back against the wall, only to realise that the concourse isn’t as empty as you thought, but that two fans in Barcelona shirts have just witnessed your outburst.

“Sorry,” you apologise to them, but they don’t seem bothered by your swearing. In fact, they actually approach you, a little giddy, and you suddenly remember that you’re not as anonymous as you’d often like to be.

“Can we get a selfie?” one of the girls asks, taking out her phone. “My friend is a huge Arsenal fan. You’re one of her favourite players.”

You force a smile onto your face. Normally you don’t mind fan interactions, in fact it usually warms your heart to know that there are people out there who you don’t even know who support you and look up to you, but there’s a time and place for that and you’re really not in the mood right now. Despite that, Leila is to blame for your sour mood, not them, and you’re not going to take out your frustrations on a couple of innocent fans.

“Of course,” you tell them, positioning yourself so that one girl stands on either side of you and smiling at the outstretched phone of the girl on the left.

“Thank you,” they say, once the selfies have been taken.

“No problem,” you reply, and you only let the smile slide off your face when they’re out of sight.

You really need to get out of here. And fast.

———

You thought that by distancing yourself from the stadium and the match, it might ease your mind a little. But by the time you get back to your hotel with a paper bag of takeout food, you feel more uneasy than ever. 

Leila is still silent. No texts, no calls, nothing on social media. 

You replay your voicemail message over and over again in your mind, each word sitting like a brick on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. Was it too much? Surely Leila would have messaged you when she was ready. What if your message comes across as needy, as smothering? What if you’re only pushing her away further?

Fuck. Leila probably doesn’t even want you here at all. You’re only a hookup to her, a bit of fun to pass your downtime during the Arnold Clark Cup. You were wrong to read anything more into the invitation to watch the final. She can only have wanted you here on standby, a plaything to use as a celebration if Barcelona won the trophy. But they didn’t and she doesn’t need you, she doesn’t want you.

The more you spiral, the more you want to speak to her. Just a single message, a word of reassurance or even just an acknowledgement that she’s not in the right headspace to see you tonight, would be enough to settle your anxiety.

As it is, you’re alone in a hotel room in an unfamiliar city with nothing but a bag of food and your own intrusive thoughts.

You want to call someone, to talk to a friend before you completely fall apart. Leah, perhaps. You’ve known her forever and out of all your friends, she’s probably the least likely to judge you if you call her up out of nowhere in floods of tears and tell her you’re having a breakdown in a hotel room in Turin over some girl you hardly know. In fact, Leah is such a good friend that if she knew you were distressed, she’d probably hop on the first flight to Italy to comfort you in person.

But Leah is on holiday in America and she deserves the time off before the Euros without having to worry about her idiotic best friend having girl problems on the other side of the world.

You’re just going to have to deal with this alone.

Hot tears spill down your face and you cocoon yourself beneath the bedcovers, wishing that the bed would swallow you whole.

You don’t know how you could’ve been so stupid to think that this meant something, how you could’ve been so stupid to catch feelings for Leila when there are clearly far too many obstacles between you for it to ever work out. In your defence, it’s only now that you’re starting to realise that you are catching feelings for her, but still… you could’ve done more to stop it from happening in the first place.

The doubt and the self-loathing clouds your mind and you cry it out until you can’t cry anymore, until you finally succumb to exhaustion, passing out into a dreamless sleep with tear-stained cheeks.

———

You wake up alone, having had a bad night’s sleep, to several messages from Leila, which can be summed up by the most recent one.

Leila Can I see you today?

The rest of her messages, all sent within the last couple of hours this morning, are a mixture of pleas and apologies.

You’re still pissed at her for not responding to any of your messages last night. But you flew all the way to Turin at Leila’s request, used the ticket that she gave you for free to watch the match, and you don’t fly back until later today. And, despite your anger, you do still want to see her.

You’re not going to make an effort though, which is why you message her back with the address of your hotel. If Leila wants to see you, then she can be the one to make the effort to come and see you herself.

When she arrives at your hotel, you decide to meet her downstairs in the hotel restaurant, instead of inviting her up to your room. There’s less temptation to let her seduce her way back onto your good side if you meet in public.

Leila looks like shit - that’s your first impression. She looks like she’s had even less sleep than you have, her eyes puffy, her expression weary, her usual smile absent. 

If she hadn’t pissed you off yesterday, you’d probably hug her. 

Instead, you just let her sit down across from you and ask her, “Do you want to eat?”

She shakes her head. 

“I’m not hungry today.”

“Coffee, then?” you suggest, because she definitely looks like she needs it.

Leila nods. 

You’ve already ordered yourself a coffee (you’re normally a tea person but you don’t want to risk the Italian tea not being to your taste) and a sandwich, but you call over the waiter once more for Leila.

“So what happened?” you eventually ask, once Leila has ordered her coffee.

“I’m sorry,” Leila apologises with a shrug, and from the way that her eyebrows are furrowed together, it seems like she’s having a difficult time trying to hold herself together.

“Sorry for what?” you ask, waiting for her to admit that she messed up, but when she doesn’t, you continue talking. “I flew here by myself, I sat in the family section surrounded by people I don’t know, all speaking a language I don’t understand. The only person I knew in this city yesterday was you. You invited me here. I thought you wanted me here.”

“I want you here,” Leila pleads with you. “But a lot happened yesterday and it was too much.”

“I get that. You think I’ve never lost a cup final? I came here to support you, win or lose. And then you hurt me. You made me feel like an idiot.”

The effort that Leila has been putting into not falling apart crumbles and the sobs heave through her body, shoulders trembling and tears spilling down her cheeks. Annoyed with her or otherwise, it’s not nice to see, and you feel a pang of regret that your harsh words have upset her.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you say, reaching for one of the unused napkins on the table and passing it across to Leila, letting your fingers brush against her hand as you do. “I’m pissed off, but I don’t want to see you cry. I don’t care that you didn’t win the Champions League. I would’ve loved to watch you lift that trophy but I’m proud of you anyway for making it to the final.”

Leila uses the napkin to wipe her tears, and the silence, as well as the sad look in her eyes, compels you to keep talking.

“And it’s not like I was expecting anything from you yesterday either,” you tell her. “If you didn’t want to see me or you were too busy, that’s fine. But just one message to let me know what was going on and I wouldn’t have been left waiting around feeling stupid.”

“I know, I know,” Leila says, her voice cracking ever so slightly. “So much stuff is happening right now. It’s all too much. But you’re right, I should have messaged.”

You don’t know what to say. It almost feels like you’re back to square one, like you don’t even know Leila at all. But then you realise - do you even know Leila? It’s not like you’ve actually spent any time getting to know each other. There’s an obvious attraction between you, and physical chemistry too, but do you actually have anything in common beside your profession?

“Can I make it up to you?” Leila blurts out.

“How?” you ask.

You’re expecting a smirk to slide across Leila’s lips and for her to suggest you go somewhere private for her to apologise to you in a more physical way, but instead, she looks you straight in the eye and says, “Come to Barcelona?”

“When?”

“This week. We have another final - la Copa de la Reina. You could come to the game.”

You let out a sigh. You can’t put yourself through what you’ve been through this weekend again, as tempting as it is to just forgive Leila and succumb to her request. Yet despite the fact that you cried yourself to sleep last night because of Leila, you can’t deny the fact you’ve still got a soft spot for her and it’s incredibly difficult to say no to her.

“I’ve got an England camp coming up soon,” you try to reason with her. “We’re starting our Euro prep.”

“Just for a few days,” Leila pleads with you. “I really want you to come. Please.”

“I can’t just drop everything at short notice,” you tell Leila, though your plans for the next couple of weeks don’t involve much more than relaxing as much as possible before getting straight back to work with the Lionesses.

“Okay,” Leila says, and though that’s all she says, you can tell she’s disappointed.

Would it really be so bad if you said yes? Would it hurt to give her another chance? You don’t want what happened yesterday to ruin what’s been going between you forever, which means forgiving her at some point. Maybe a little holiday in Barcelona, especially before you enter the biggest summer of your life so far, is exactly what you need.

It’ll be like the Arnold Clark Cup all over again, an escape from reality until you have to return to life as a footballer and Leila’s on-pitch rival.

“Fine, I’ll look at flights to Barcelona,” you concede. “I can give you two days, maybe three, before I need to be back in England.”

“Thank you,” Leila says, smiling at you gratefully.

She reaches into the little bag that she brought with her and pulls out a piece of blue and pink fabric, and as she unfurls it you realise it’s a Barcelona shirt.

“My jersey from yesterday,” she explains as she passes it across the table. “To thank you for coming to see me. If you can come to Barcelona next week, you could wear it to the final?”

Wearing Leila’s name to one of her matches sounds serious. It sounds like a commitment. As is flying to Turin, or even to Barcelona to watch one of her games, but that hasn’t quite gone to plan.

Things were so easy when you were flirting from different countries, or sneaking around St George’s Park for a bit of fun. The rational part of your brain tries to warn you that it’s probably not a good thing that at the first sign of this perhaps actually being a little more serious, it’s resulted in this misunderstanding and both of you getting upset.

But the pleading look in Leila’s bloodshot eyes is impossible to say no to.

“Thanks,” you say, refolding the jersey and setting it aside.

“When do you go home?” Leila asks.

“This afternoon,” you answer. “My flight’s just after four. You?”

“In a couple of hours,” Leila tells you. “I can’t stay much longer. Only Patri knows I’m not at the team hotel.”

You can’t help but smile, reminded a little of the way you both snuck around St George’s Park back in February, only now your secrecy has led you to fly to a whole different country while Leila has snuck across town to see you.

This thing between you, this connection that has been growing since that tackle back in Barcelona, is far from easy. But aren’t the best things in life worth the fight?

“Come here,” you say, pushing back your chair and getting to your feet.

You hold your arms out wide until Leila understands and gets up too, stepping around the table and into your embrace. Her arms wind around your back as you pull her close, burying your face into her shoulder 

“Thank you for giving me another chance,” Leila mumbles into your hair.

You don’t say anything in response, instead simply squeezing her closer and savouring the feeling of her body against yours. If you can make the logistics of a trip to Barcelona next week work, it won’t be long until you can hold her again like this, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to make the most of every second you can get with her before you have to go in separate directions again.

If this tumultuous weekend in Turin has taught you anything, it’s that you can’t take anything for granted.

[idontplaytrack]

Could you write some silly sleep deprived Janis? Either X reader or Rejanis, no preferences 🥰

Sleep? Don’t know her

Janis ‘Imi’ike x Regina George

Warnings: fluff, coarse language

Lack of sleep drives Janis to be a little crazy. But not more than it does Regina.

Regina laid in bed under the covers, looking— no, staring up at the ceiling. The house was quiet, so quiet. But of course it was, it was 2:30 in the morning. Yet, the blonde could not settle down and turn in for the night. Not when her girlfriend was still wide awake and busy with god knows what.

“Janis, get in bed!” Regina groaned.

“I’m not tired.” Her voice travels into the room from where she was in the living area.

“What’re you even doing?”

“Nothing.” Janis laughs, but then there was a clatter.

Huffing, Regina got out of bed and flounced outside to check on the brunette. With a hand on her hip, her eyes went wide when she saw the art supplies sprawled out on the floor. “Oh my god, last I checked you were reading a book!”

“Got bored.”

“Bored?” Regina crouched down but slowly sat on the floor with her, “Maybe because it’s time for you to go to bed—”

Janis quirked a brow, “Go to bed? Nice try, when was the last time you saw me asleep?”

Regina bites back a sigh, exhaling harshly through her nose, “Do you think I wouldn’t remember, Jay? It’s been two days. Why are you just doing everything but getting some rest?”

Janis giggled, “Because I’m not tired~”

“You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Of course I do, Regina.” Janis deadpanned, “When your best friend was the first person to call you a crazy lesbian, it sticks.”

Regina’s face fell. How is her mood changing so quickly? She pursed her lips together, internally panicking and unsure of what to say. “Jay, I’m sorry.”

The other girl was then chuckling. Regina shut her eyes for a second, “Janis. You need to get some sleep.”

“No, I don’t. I can’t fall asleep anyhow.” Janis replied, laying on her stomach on the floor as she carried on sketching, her tongue then darted out in concentration. Regina found that endearing, but she was so worried about how tired Janis actually was, she couldn’t think about how cute she was for longer than that split second. “Baby.” Regina finally sighs.

“I’m fine.” Janis said back in a mumble.

“You need to sleep, babe. It’s been too long since you did.” Regina scooted closer, tilting Janis’ chin by a finger. “Janis, please. Leave the work to tomorrow, let’s go get some sleep.”

“No!” Janis resisted, yelling and Regina saw her eyes get teary. Yet, the brunette doesn’t move away, she just stays in that position, letting Regina hold her chin in her hand.

“Janis, put the pencil down.” Regina told her softly. Janis breathed deeply, letting go of the pencil, letting it roll away on the floor. “I’m sorry.” She mumbled.

“Why—”

“What I said, the crazy lesbian remark. That wasn’t necessary.” Janis chewed on her lower lip.

Regina shook her head, “We’re okay. I get it, you’re tired and stressed and feeling all sorts of things. I know you’re having trouble falling asleep, but I don’t know why. Could you…tell me what’s bothering you so I could help?”

“I don’t know.” Janis pouted, “My mind’s always just racing with all sorts of worries, the future, a bunch of what ifs. It’s so bad if I don’t have something to focus on, like art. If I just lay there in bed, in silence, I’m almost never able to fall asleep.”

“Okay.” Regina nodded, “Come on. I got you.” She helped Janis up, then they returned to their bedroom together. “Whatever’s on your mind, let it out. Tell me. Everything.” Regina sat her down, holding onto her hands, “I don’t care what it is, I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense. Get it out, and we’ll go to sleep.”

That’s what happened, Regina successfully got Janis to open up and get those overwhelming thoughts in her mind. Janis went on and on for a few minutes, and all Regina did was listen and hold her. So she felt safe and seen. “It’s a lot, I’m sorry.”

“We all have our own shit, baby. One day at a time.” Regina rubbed her back soothingly, “You help me, I help you— we’re gonna get there one day, hm?”

Janis nodded, head nuzzled against chest as she feels her eyelids finally start to grow heavy. “Close your eyes.” Regina hums, planting a kiss to the crown of her head, I’m right here. Breathe, focus on nothing but the sound of my heartbeat.”

With another nod, Janis says, “Good night, love you.”

“Love you more.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

Been sitting in my inbox for awhile and I needed something to focus on than my parents’ yelling so I got this done. Thank you for waiting, I hope you enjoyed <3

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 57

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 6k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, February 20; 6:30 PM - At  Jenni’s Place.

- "You didn’t have to come earlier to help me, you know," Ale. says to me.

- "Oh, it was the least I could do, and besides, we did the shopping, so…"

- "Hmm…," she says, not entirely convinced.

- "Okay, fine. Lucy insisted on coming straight here after we put away the groceries," I admit.

Alexia giggles softly. Lucy has always told me I’m a terrible liar, and I’m starting to believe her.

- "Thanks for coming anyway."

- "It’s nothing."

I respond while glancing over at Jenni’s living room across from us, where my girlfriend is sitting with her. They both have a beer in front of them and a game controller in hand, laughing together. I grip the knife in my palm, continuing to slice the sausage as best as I can. I love Jenni, but seeing them so close drives me crazy.

- "It’s hard seeing them together, isn’t it?" Alexia murmurs with a hint of amusement.

I exhale and glance over at my roommate. Her hands are hovering above her work, waiting for my answer. We divided the tasks to get things done faster.

- "A little," I admit, biting my lip. "She never really talked about her, so I’m always surprised to see them interact so closely."

The holidays we all spent together taught me a lot. If she wasn’t with me, she was with her. I knew she was her best friend and that they were very close, but not this much.

- "Don’t worry, I had a hard time with it at first too."

- "I thought you were never with them?"

- "Not outside of school, but at school, they were so close that everyone thought something was going on between them. You know how it is. Rumors spread quickly in our school."

Oh yes, I’m well aware. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been a victim of them. The school is so small and cloistered that one little thing can distract all the students. I completely understand why Lucy doesn’t want anything intimate between us in the building, even behind closed doors. It would be far too suspicious.

- "I didn’t know."

- "Lucy knew how to squash those rumors perfectly. You should be the first to know that," she giggles.

- "That’s true, you’re right. Did you know she was… a lesbian?"

- "I did. Jenni let it slip one day and made me promise never to repeat it. She’d be dead by now if Lucy knew everything I know that I’m not supposed to."

I laugh sincerely, understanding exactly how she feels. More than once, I’ve felt on edge with Lucy. She knows how to make others understand what she doesn’t like and keep them in line if they disobey. I glance up toward the living room, immediately locking eyes with Lucy’s green ones. She’s looking at me curiously after hearing my laughter, making me blush. It’s as if she heard what we were talking about. Her little smile that follows reassures me that she didn’t. I clear my throat and return to slicing the half-cut sausage. We’ve made good progress on the appetizer prep. Alexia continues spreading the toppings on the few toasts we planned, while I slice up the other items to place in the designated bowls.

- "By the way, what excuse did you give Alba so you could stay here?"

- "Oh, well, I told her I’d be here with you… She didn’t seem bothered for once, which was strange. Usually, she always tries to keep me or pries for information… Anyway, I hope you don’t mind that I used you as an excuse?"

- "Well, it’s done now," I tease. "You should tell her soon, right? It must be hard to keep coming up with excuses."

- "Yeah, it is, but I’m really scared of her reaction," she sighs.

- "Whose reaction?"

I jump as Lucy’s hands wrap around my waist. She has a knack for surprising me lately. Reflexively, I glance toward the living room, which is now empty. The unanswered question is swept away by Jenni’s interruption.

- "Another beer, Luce?" she offers, just as I hear the fridge door open.

- "Hmm, no thanks," she says, wrapping her arms around my stomach.

This gesture pulls us even closer. I can clearly feel her body against my back. Her head follows, resting on my shoulder. She kisses my cheek before reaching to steal one of my freshly sliced sausages.

- "Hey!" I protest as she pops it into her mouth.

- "What?" she replies. "I bought it, so I’m allowed to have some."

- "It’s for tonight, and as far as I know, you’re not invited."

- "I get the feeling you’re still sulking," she teases gently.

- "I’m not."

I puff out my cheeks slightly as our friends laugh. She must have told them how I behaved at the supermarket. I hate it when people make me look like an idiot. Mapi acts the exact same way about it. And yet they still claim they have nothing in common and don’t get along.

- "What time are the girls coming?" Jenni finally asks.

- "In about an hour, I think," Alexia replies. "Oh, by the way! We still needed to—"

She pauses for a moment, glancing at Lucy. Her lips purse, and I quickly understand what she means. She had mentioned that we could make a punch using Jenni’s alcohol, which is a bit stronger than what Lucy allowed us to buy. I didn’t argue with her at the store because the girls knew what was coming and had planned for it.

- "Later," I simply reply.

My answer causes Lucy’s caresses on my stomach to stop.

- "Why are you two being so secretive?"

- "Nothing… well, we just need some advice. Alexia thought it would be better to make the pizzas right away, but I told her it’d be better to wait until we’re ready to put them in the oven."

I don’t know how this excuse came to me so quickly. It’s the first time it’s actually coherent. Lucy seems to buy it because she resumes her caresses.

- "Whatever. If you prepare them in advance, make sure to keep them cold."

- "See, I told you," I say to Ale as if it were obvious.

- "I hope I get to hear the end of this story," Lucy whispers in my ear.

The statement catches me off guard, and without warning, the knife slips, cutting into something other than the sausage.

- "Ouch," I yelp, pulling my hand back.

The blood doesn’t take long to appear. A lot of it. The stinging pain makes me hop in place.

- "Shit, shit, shit. Do something, do something," I panic, holding my finger out to Lucy.

- "Okay, calm down," she says, as reassuringly as possible.

- "It hurts," I whimper.

I bite my lip to hold back my tears as she wraps my finger in a paper towel that  Jenni handed her. The paper quickly turns red where the cut is. Lucy distracts me by brushing her thumb under my eyes.

- "It’s okay, it’s just a cut. We’ll take care of it, okay?"

I nod, still biting my lip. I’m afraid I’ll break down if I let go. Lucy lets out a small laugh before taking my other hand and pulling me with her.

- "We’ll be right back. I’m going to take care of this brave wounded soldier."

"It’s not funny. »

I hit her back with my fist, making her laugh even more. We arrive in the bathroom, where she closes the door behind us after seating me on the toilet. I look around. Unlike Lucy’s bathroom, this one is smaller and slightly less modern. There’s only a shower here too. I’m surprised that Lucy knows exactly where everything is in the cabinets. In just a few minutes, a disinfectant-soaked compress is on my finger. The tears that had formed in my eyes have completely disappeared. I tend to get overly sensitive about even the smallest injuries; it's ridiculous. I completely relax when my girlfriend’s lips press against my forehead.

“Feeling better?”

“Thanks,” I mumble, burying my face in her chest.

I sigh as I feel her fingers running through my hair. I love the way she knows how to calm me down. I’m forced to lift my head when she crouches down in front of me. She removes the compress to inspect my finger.

“You really didn’t hold back,” she teases. “Was the lie even worth it?”

A small laugh escapes me despite myself. I really can’t lie, and the situation is ridiculous. I force myself to face her when I feel her eyes fixed on me.

“You were lying to me, weren’t you? I must say, you didn’t do too badly this time. Too bad you have this little tell that gives you away.”

“A tell?” I repeat, blinking. “What tell?”

“Oh, I’m not going to tell you what it is,” she laughs. “That would be too easy.”

Before I can grasp what’s happening, she kisses my freshly bandaged finger. She places her hands on my thighs, gently rubbing them.

“So, are you going to tell me what lie you’re covering up, or do I have to drag it out of you?”

I bite my lip at her serious expression. This is exactly why I hate lying to her. She always finds out sooner or later. I quickly weigh the pros and cons in my head. I have a feeling I’m going to get in trouble.

“Do you promise not to get mad?”

She arches an eyebrow, looking way too serious for my liking. I think I might soon write a book on how to decipher Lucy because I know she’s not joking anymore. I sigh and shake my head. She knows exactly how to handle me. She always takes me away from others to corner me one-on-one. I’m weaker when we’re alone. She knows just how to make me crack. And honestly, she’s just plain adorable. I don’t need anything more.

“The girls planned to bring alcohol tonight. And by that, I mean something stronger than your few beers and your two bottles of three-percent.”

Lucy sighs, running her hand over the creases in her forehead. She’s upset. I can feel it, and suddenly I’m nervous.

“Are you mad at me?”

“If you’re saying that, it’s because you knew.”

“Yes, but I didn’t plan on overdoing it. Please don’t be mad at me. I know how to control myself.”

“Even with Mapi around?”

“Can you trust me a little? I’m not Keira. The girls are really going to think you’re uptight if you keep this up.”

“I don’t like knowing you’re around that stuff. Especially with your ex there.”

I roll my eyes, amused. And we’re back to the original issue. I force Lucy to stand up so I can straddle her. The position doesn’t seem to make her comfortable, but I don’t care. I wrap my arms around her and clasp them behind her back. Throughout all of this, our eyes have never left each other’s.

“So we’re back to talking about Mapi, huh? You two pretend to adore each other to my face, but behind each other’s backs, you can’t stop taking jabs.”

“Did she say something again?” she asks, with a hint of panic.

“Of course not, but I’m starting to get tired of neither of you being able to trust me. It’s crazy. You two are supposed to be the closest people to me, yet you constantly doubt me. It’s very frustrating, you know.”

Lucy’s muscles relax along with her sigh.

“I’m sorry, baby. D-do you… Do you promise to be reasonable tonight?”

“I promise, Lucy,” I reply, rolling my eyes with a touch of amusement. “If I didn’t tell you, it’s because I didn’t want to worry you for no reason.”

“Then I trust you.”

I can tell the words were hard for her to say. I smile and release my hands from behind her back to cradle her face. She’s just scared of what might happen, and I get it. We all have our anxieties.

“You’ll text me every five minutes, okay?”

I giggle as I capture her lips. I can feel her smiling against mine. The kiss is tender and full of shared love.

“Every half hour, okay?” I negotiate with a small laugh.

“You won’t be mad if I harass you, then.”

I giggle as she dives into my neck to kiss me. I close my eyes, running my hands through her hair. God, I love her.

Saturday, February 20; 8:30 PM – At  Jenni’s Place.

“Damn, they finally left.”

These are my best friend’s first words as the door slams behind our friends and partners. She literally collapses onto the couch. Mapi and Ingrid had joined us about half an hour ago. Our friends were supposed to leave right after, but Jenni managed to delay things by offering Ingrid a beer. Of course, she couldn’t refuse. It was funny to see my bestie simmering next to her on the couch. After one last warning and some thrown threats, they finally cleared out. I settle into an armchair after bringing the last of the bowls we had prepared for the appetizer.

“Finally alone, yeah,” Alexia sighs after sitting next to Mapi. “Tell me, Ona. Did you happen to spill the beans to Lucy by any chance?”

“No…”

I drag out the “no” a bit too long, and I shouldn’t have. Mapi suddenly sits up, pointing at me.

“You did! Seriously!? She’s going to… Wait. She didn’t even say anything to me even though she knew we were going to have alcohol?”

“Listen, girls, Lucy doesn’t like alcohol, drugs, or anything like that for reasons that are her own. I had to tell her. Well, I didn’t have to, but if I hadn’t, she would never trust me on that subject again.”

“Uh-huh,” Mapi replies, sounding skeptical. “You got busted. I’ve always told you that you can’t lie. So, what did you negotiate to keep her from throwing her usual empty threats at us?”

An awkward silence follows. They know me too well; it’s impossible. I try to convince her otherwise with my silence, but she holds her ground. I sigh, giving in.

“I negotiated a text every fifteen minutes.”

A plaintive moan and laughter can be heard. I roll my eyes, smiling at Alexia, who seems to be on my side this time.

"Seriously?" Mapi mutters.

"What? She originally wanted every five minutes. I managed to negotiate her down, so be grateful."

"Good grief, your girlfriend has a serious problem. She really makes me look like the bad guy here. It’s not like I was always trying to get you drunk."

I raise an eyebrow at her. That’s probably the most absurd thing she’s ever said to me. She seems to read my mind because she rolls her eyes while grabbing some chips from one of the bowls.

"Okay, fine. Maybe a little. But, at the same time, you always needed my help, right?"

Alexia laughs as she gets up.

"So, anyone want a drink?"

"Yeah!" Mapi exclaims excitedly. "Did you manage to make the punch?"

"Yep, while Ona was keeping Lucy busy in the bathroom."

"Ooh," Mapi replies, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

"Don’t get any ideas. I just cut myself while preparing the appetizers."

I show her my bandaged finger as proof. Her excitement immediately dies down as she slumps back into the chair. She grabs a few chips and munches on them before continuing.

"You two are seriously uptight, there’s no other explanation. Ingrid and I have been going at it like every other night since the hotel."

"Well, someone’s obsessed," I tease.

"That’s not it. It’s more like fulfilling basic needs, you know? Honestly, don’t tell me you don’t ever want her. We used to do it pretty often »

Alexia laughs when she comes back with three glasses of punch. I take one from her before she hands the second to Mapi. She sits down, looking at us in turn. I haven't stopped smiling the entire time. It’s so weird to see her with us, but I’m thrilled. I was awful when we first met, and now we’re like best friends.

"It’s so hard to believe you two were a couple at some point and are still so close now," she comments. "I understand why Lucy is jealous. If Jenni had stayed that close with an ex, I’d lose it," she jokes.

I ease the awkwardness by taking a sip of my drink. Few exes manage to stay friends. It’s normal, after all. You share intimate moments, you love each other, and there’s bound to be some lingering bitterness when it ends. A romantic relationship can never end well because, no matter what people say, there’s always some residual feeling afterward. But with Mapi, it’s different. We were already like best friends before. We just added feelings on top of that. I definitely had feelings. She was the one who introduced me to dating girls, after all, and that’s no small thing. Everyone dreams of meeting that one person and thinking, "This is it, she’s the one." For a long time, I thought that person was Mapi. We were and still are very connected. I think Mapi felt the same connection because when I came back home, she didn’t hesitate to reach out to me again. She probably had the hardest time moving on since I was the one who left. But my return changed a lot of things. I was different—much less carefree and more anxious. People change, and she understood that. She stayed, though, and I’ll always be grateful to her for that. She stayed because we have that connection and the memories that remain. We were all about having fun and living it up like all teenagers our age. We loved each other because what we did together couldn’t be done with anyone else. It was a one-of-a-kind friendship, with just a sprinkle of feelings. I say a sprinkle because the truth is, I learned what the word "love" truly meant with Lucy. Not that I didn’t know the word before, but I realized that with certain people, the bond is much stronger. Mapi will always be my soulmate in friendship. She’s my pillar. I know that if one night I knock on her door late, she’ll open it and invite me to spend the night with her, holding me in her arms. But when it comes to love and tenderness, my soulmate is definitely Lucy. People might have a hard time understanding that, but it’s very clear in my mind. I know it’s the same for Mapi. Since meeting Ingrid, everything has changed. It’s like she finally found her soulmate too. She’s much more at peace than before. I know because despite what she said, I could still see how she looked at me before she met Ingrid. She still desired me, and all of that vanished the moment she committed to her new girlfriend. Mapi is the first to react by clearing her throat.

"People just have a hard time understanding that Ona and I have a special connection that no one can break. That’s how it is, and they’ll just have to deal with it. Lucy and Ingrid aren’t the first to make comments," she adds with a shrug.

I smile, taking another sip of my drink. Yeah, she definitely gets it, just like me, and I’m more than happy about it. I was worried for a long time that she’d never be able to move on. I’m glad she met Ingrid around the same time I got together with Lucy. At least now I know she’s in good hands... or at least, I hope so.

"So, it’s going to be confession night, right?" I finally say.

"Oh yes!" my best friend exclaims. "I can’t wait to hear how Alexia managed to snag  Jenni," she continues, nudging her with an elbow.

I laugh, nodding in agreement. I’ve never really known how that went down.

"And you and Ingrid too, huh?" I add. "I heard my girlfriend knows more than I do. Aren’t you ashamed?"

"Oh, nonsense. I didn’t tell her anything. I just needed some advice since she knows her better than I do for now."

"Don’t you think Ingrid might have already told her everything? Soon everyone will know before I do, and if that’s the case, I’ll be seriously upset."

"You’ve got to be kidding," she exclaims indignantly. "I was also the last to know about you and Lucy!" she retorts. "You left me in the dark for a whole week! You’ve only got yourself to blame for not being in the loop!"

"That was Lucy’s fault!" I reply.

Speak of the devil, my phone vibrating reminds me of the conversation we had in the bathroom. She wasn’t kidding about those texts every fifteen minutes. I should have known. I negotiated for every half hour, but it didn’t work.

Your Love 💕 - 8:47 PM: We just got here. Hope everything’s still going well on your end ☺️❤️

The nickname is the first thing that catches my attention. I don’t remember changing it... nor giving Lucy my passcode. The second thing that stands out is the heart she included. It’s definitely the first one. Then again, we’re always together, so I can’t remember the last time we texted each other.

"Looks like the first message just came through," Mapi teases.

"Yeah," I reply, not even trying to deny it.

My goofy smile gives me away every time anyway. I don’t hesitate for a second to reply. I know my girlfriend well enough to know there might be consequences if I don’t respond quickly.

Me - 8:50 PM: I don’t remember changing your name in my contacts... You’re going to have to explain that one, Ms. Bronze. Otherwise, everything’s still good on our end, so relax and have fun!! 😘❤️

Once I’m satisfied with my message, I send it and turn my attention back to the girls, who have already made a serious dent in the snacks on the table while I haven’t even touched them yet. I quickly help myself to a bit of everything before sinking back into my seat.

"So," I start, eating a slice of sausage, "who’s going first? You already know everything about me, so... I’ll let you two decide."

I keep nibbling while watching them exchange glances. Alexia is the first to break eye contact with Mapi, sighing. A playful smile appears on her face, and I fully expect her to be the first to give in. Mapi’s had a lot of practice with staring contests, thanks to me. Even if I win against her, she knows how to handle others now.

"Okay, okay, I’ll go first," Alexia says. "But first, I’m putting the pizzas in the oven."

"Ooh, she’s stalling," Mapi jokes as she gets up.

"No, I’m thinking of our hungry stomachs."

"Yeah, well, don’t think too hard," I retort.

"Why? You don’t need to impress anyone, you’re taken," Mapi teases.

"Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep in shape, you know. Lucy’s a goddess already; I don’t need to feel like a blob next to her."

"A goddess?" Mapi laughs. "You’re exaggerating!"

"And you’re not a blob," Ale adds from the kitchen.

"That being said, does that mean you’ve seen her without clothes on?"

I laugh as Mapi raises her eyebrows suggestively. She definitely doesn’t miss a beat. I can tell I’m in for a lot of innuendos tonight.

"In a swimsuit, yeah? Remember? At the pool."

I smile as she groans in frustration. I think I’ve found the person most unsettled by our relationship. Ale returns and flops onto the couch. The smell of pizza already fills my nostrils. I can tell we’re in for a treat. I didn’t know, but Alexia seems to have some hidden culinary skills. Jenni’s a lucky guy.

"So, what about you?" I turn back to her. "We want all the details. The place, the date, the time!"

"Isn’t that a bit much?" Ale giggles.

"Of course not. I never bothered to find out, and I should have."

I feel like she knows everything about me, and I know nothing about her. That’s not true, but I’ve been a bit self-centered with my issues lately. Everything has revolved around me because of Lucy. She just texted me back, but I decide to ignore it for now. Something much more important is being discussed.

- She’s right. Come on, don’t be shy with us. We want to know everything!

- Alright, she clears her throat. Where should I start?

- The beginning would be nice, I say with an amused smile, finishing off the drink I’d been sipping.

- Well, from the moment I arrived at Camp Wiegman. Well, not right away, of course, but I noticed her on the first day. She and Lucy were new.

- I thought this year made it four years since they started working there? I interrupt.

- It does. The year before, they were in training. This was the first year they could have students of their own, and it happened to be our generation.

- I see. So, who was your mentor?

- Ingrid, she replies eagerly. And thankfully so!  Jenni and Lucy were really impressive, and they knew how to command respect. Especially Lucy.

A laugh escapes me. I don’t know why, but this news doesn’t surprise me. She needed that, and in our school, she has good reasons to be that way. I roll my eyes as I feel my phone vibrate yet again, prompting me to check it this time.

- Just a second.

- Not annoying, huh? Mapi mocks, referencing my earlier comments.

- Shut up, I retort, reading the message.

Your Love 💕 - 9:03 PM: Oh? I don’t know what you’re talking about... 😉 I’ll try... ❤️

Your Love 💕 - 9:06 PM: But I’ll need your answers for that.

Me - 9:08 PM: How did you get my password? And seriously, Luce, stop worrying. I won’t be drunk when you find me ❤️

I sigh as I turn back to the girls. They’re both looking at me with smiles on their faces.

- What?

- So, are you going to explain why you don’t get mad when Lucy hovers over you? Alexia asks.

- Wha— She’s not hovering over me! I protest.

- Oh, come on, admit it, Mapi chimes in. She’s hovering over you like a mother would over her child. Are you finally going to give us an explanation?

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. If I do this, I know I’ll have someone on my back. But these are my best friends sitting in front of me. I can’t really hide this from them, especially since we’re likely to find ourselves in this situation more than once, with Lucy pestering me by phone like she’s doing now.

- Okay, I murmur. But you promise not to say anything and definitely not to judge her?

- Of course, Mapi rolls her eyes, as if it’s obvious.

I take a deep breath. In reality, I think talking to someone about this will do me a world of good. I lick my lips before straightening up.

- I’ll get myself another drink first. The punch is in the kitchen? I ask as I head there.

- In the fridge, Alexia replies.

I quickly do what I need to do, bringing back some beers to place on the table as well. I’ve noticed that Mapi has been drinking more since she’s been with Ingrid, and it doesn’t fail. She grabs one as soon as it’s on the table. I grab a handful of chips before sitting down again.

- Alright, I clear my throat. Lucy had a girlfriend before joining Camp Wiegman. Keira, maybe you’ve heard of her?

I direct the question to Alexia since she told me Jenni shares things with her. She nods in response, which only half surprises me. Her boyfriend seems like an honest person who shares information. However, I doubt she knows everything, and honestly, I’m not sure yet if I’m going to tell them everything.

- Well, to tell you the truth, this girl was a junkie and spent all her time partying, just like I did before coming here. So, Luce has a hard time leaving me alone at parties. She’s always afraid I’ll go overboard or, worse, relapse.

- Oh, that’s ridiculous, Mapi immediately protests. You’re not her ex, as far as I know.

- What happened to this girl? Alexia asks more calmly. I know it ended tragically, but  Jenni never wanted to tell me. Do you know?

I bite my lip. This is exactly the part I didn’t want to share. Lucy wouldn’t be happy if she heard me already spilling most of this story.

- Oh, come on, you can tell us, Mapi insists. It’s not like we’re going to throw it in her face when she comes back!

I sigh, taking a sip of my drink. I’m gathering my courage before admitting the rest. It’s the only way they’ll understand why I always defend Lucy.

- She died, I drop the bomb.

I don’t look at the girls. I don’t want to see their reactions. Instead, I focus on my glass, which I’ve been nervously playing with for a while.

- She overdosed, I continue. A friend of Keira’s called Lucy in a panic, but she couldn’t do anything to save her.

I look up at that moment. No doubt their faces are filled with shock. It’s not surprising. I’m telling them that Lucy watched her girlfriend die.

- Lucy has every reason to be scared for me, and I’ll never blame her for that. The worst part is, long before I knew all of this, I confessed to her while breaking down in her arms that my biggest fear was not being able to fully control my cravings and relapsing one day... So yeah. I try to reassure her, but it’s not easy given our situation.

Several minutes pass before Mapi is the first to react. At first, she blinks, then opens her mouth several times, but nothing comes out. She can’t find the words.

- I’m sorry, she starts. I didn’t expect it to be this serious... Why didn’t you ever tell me you were afraid of relapsing?

I laugh nervously, taking another drink. I pull my legs up onto the chair, hugging them to myself.

- It’s never easy, Mapi. Even if I’m clean, no one is immune to starting again. Lucy knows that better than anyone because of Keira, and that’s what worries her.

- That’s not your case, she persists. Last time was just a mistake that wasn’t even your fault!

She’s getting upset. I can see the fear in her eyes. It’s like she’s imagining that this girl was me. I had imagined it too, in a dream. If Lucy knew that, we could have ended up in a fight, I’m sure. I sigh again, running my hand through my hair. I’ve always hated worrying the people close to me.

- I know, but it’s precisely that moment that reminded me of how vulnerable I am. Don’t worry, Lucy managed to reassure me. You really should understand why she means so much to me now. Without wanting to offend you, she’s the best person to understand me.

- Lucy is a good person.

I smile at Alexia, nodding. Her expression shows just how much her thoughts about Lucy have changed. She must have seen her differently before. She couldn’t know the phases Lucy went through if no one told her. I understand, and I feel a bit guilty about the response I gave her over the phone. I take the opportunity to glance at my phone and see that Lucy has replied.

Your Love 💕 - 9:21 PM: You could’ve been a bit more original than using your birthday for your code, babe. And I’m sorry... I’ll leave you alone after this text, no need to reply ❤️

Me - 9:25 PM: I’ll keep that in mind...  Of course not, my love. I’m going to keep texting you. Everything going well on your end? ❤️

- Alright, says Alexia, getting up. On that note, I’ll go get the pizzas.

Yeah, and then you can finally continue your story about  Jenni. And it’ll be your turn, Maps. I haven’t forgotten about you either.

The evening continued in a much better atmosphere. Ale put on some background music when she returned, and it was definitely something that had been missing before. We enjoyed our pizza while chatting. Alexia finished her story about  Jenni. She had chased after her throughout the first year, and she got what she wanted when they got together in June. Unfortunately, it wasn't all that easy.  Jenni started having doubts during the vacation, but their relationship survived that, as well as the wave of challenges Lucy brought afterward. They'll be celebrating their two-year anniversary in just a few months. I have no doubt their relationship will endure after everything they've been through.

Then it was Mapi's turn. It turns out her story was quite unexpected. Of course, Ingrid caught my best friend's eye as I had anticipated, but that's not why she got her number in the first place. It was actually to talk about Lucy and me. Even though they constantly exchange barbs, I can tell she's happy that I'm with Lucy after everything she's done for us. They were looking for a way to make us see the truth, though we didn’t end up needing their help. Surprisingly, it was Ingrid who initiated things between them with some suggestive remarks and a desire to get to know the person she was talking to better. Naturally, Mapi took the bait. That's how their ambiguous relationship began. I think I now understand why Mapi was scared of their relationship. She didn’t expect to meet someone like Ingrid so soon after her breakup with Ana. It was too sudden and probably too good to be true for her. I'm glad that, despite my absence, she managed to take the plunge into this relationship. Lucy must have had something to do with it, and I’m grateful. She did my job when I wasn't able to.

The conversation then flowed naturally. We talked about everything and nothing at the same time. I love the ease between the three of us. Mapi and Alexia get along wonderfully. The food and alcohol flowed freely, though not for me. I was determined to keep my promise to Lucy. I stopped drinking after my third glass and switched to soft drinks. The girls didn’t even notice since we were too busy to pay attention to each other's drinks. Meanwhile, I kept texting Lucy, who seemed to be having a good evening as well. Ours was going great too. The girls were being wild, which forced me to be just as wild. We didn’t stay seated for long tonight. The rhythm of the music quickly took us hostage, along with the adrenaline from the alcohol in the girls’ veins. Even though I wasn’t in the same state as they were, that didn’t stop me from having just as much fun. I was more than happy to play the guardian angel for once.

Sunday, February 21st; 2:30 AM – At  Jenni's Place.

I was in the kitchen when I heard the front door open. I finished loading our plates into the dishwasher before heading out.

“Ona?”

The voice was just a whisper, but I recognized it as my girlfriend’s. I stepped out to show my presence. Relief immediately crossed her eyes. It had been an hour since we last texted. The alcohol and lack of sleep over the past few days had gotten the better of the girls, who were now fast asleep on the couch for a good half hour. Even though this was the fifth time I’d passed by to put things away in the kitchen, their position—one on top of the other—still made me laugh. I hadn’t had the heart to move them for fear of waking them up. Lucy took advantage of my amusement to quietly approach me. One of her hands found its way behind my neck while the other grabbed my waist, pulling me close and capturing my lips. The hold was necessary given the intensity. I responded eagerly to her kiss, letting her take full control. Her hands eventually cradled my face as she finished. I took the opportunity to grip her hips while she examined me. She tried to be subtle, but I knew that’s what she was doing. I didn’t mind; I found it adorable. Before she could say anything, I spoke up.

“The alcohol got the best of them.”

A smile finally spread across her lips, followed by a small laugh. She relaxed. She understood that I wasn’t in the same state. I had stopped drinking since ten o’clock, so I was perfectly sober. Her hands released me, moving down to my shoulders and then my arms. Her head nestled into my neck with a soft sigh.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

I hugged her tightly, kissing her temple before turning my attention to the two other people in the room.  Jenni and Ingrid were watching us with small smiles, which I returned. The evening must have been tough for Lucy, but I hoped she managed to have some fun anyway.

“I was just tidying up, but I didn’t get the chance to finish.”

“You didn’t have to. We could’ve done it tomorrow,”  Jenni replied.

“Well, things were pretty quiet since they fell asleep, so I wanted to keep busy,” I chuckled.

A small yelp escaped me when Lucy bit my neck without warning. She laughed before returning to my lips. It was clear she was relieved to see me.

“We’re heading out. Jenni will take care of the rest.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

“Were they too wild?” Ingrid asked me.

“Just a little, but everything went well and nothing got broken,” I added to make them laugh.

After a final check-in with them, Lucy seemed eager to leave, so we said goodbye to her friends before leaving the apartment. The drive home was quiet, but there wasn’t much to say. We had talked a lot over text, and I preferred to let Lucy process her emotions. As soon as she could, she sought to maintain contact with me. I greatly appreciated how she kept resting her hand on my thigh as she drove. Ultimately, even though the evening was fantastic, a wave of exhaustion started to hit me. I couldn’t wait to get to bed.

[petalsthefish]

Read on A03

Written for day 1 of Jily Week 2024

“How does he manage to look like that straight off his broomstick?” Lily Evans hissed to Marlene McKinnon. “It’s an absolute fuckin' tragedy!”

The girls were huddled in a corner of the common room, a short distance from the group of boys clustered by the fire, still decked out in their Quidditch gear. At the center of the chaos was James Potter, gesticulating wildly as if he were casting spells with his hands, while tiny magical figures darted around him, mimicking his every move. The only girls on the team, Fawcett and Fawn, the third-year twins, sat on the periphery, barely paying attention.

“Pay attention!” James barked at them, and they looked up, their faces a picture of remorse.

“Ugh,” Lily muttered, tilting her head towards the ceiling as if seeking divine intervention.

She had an uncharacteristically feral appreciation for the deep, resonant tone in his voice, but it seemed he almost regretted it, as he nervously ran a hand through his hair. Lily absently tugged at the ends of her frayed French braid, struggling to tear her eyes away from James and his gloriously disheveled hair. It was a love-hate relationship—she adored the glorious mess of it but loathed how it made it impossible to ignore her feelings for him.

"What’s the matter with you?" Marlene asked, barely glancing up from her Witch Weekly.

"James Potter’s the matter with me!" Lily nudged her urgently. "Just look at the state of him!"

Marlene glanced up, surveyed James, and then returned to her magazine. “He looks normal to me, Lily. See? He’s even ranting about quidditch.”

He was ranting loudly, almost everyone in the common room was watching. A few people snickered, knowing he was feeling the pressure of the upcoming match against Slytherin. It was James’ only match each year where he grew worried, not that he’d admit it out loud. 

“I’m not talking about his ranting, Marlene,” Lily huffed. “I’m talking about his hair.”

“Aye,” Marlene mused. “I told Mary McDonald that half the boys in our year need haircuts—James Potter and Sirius Black especially.”

Lily let out a strangled, but still hushed, “you want James to cut his fucking hair?! Marley?! Are you kidding me? James Potter’s hair looks like it came out of a fucking quidditch magazine. Look at it. So wavy and perfectly messed up. It’s practically hairography.”

“What the fuck is hairography?” Marlene asked as she threw herself into the spare beanbag chair behind them. 

“Like pornography, but hair.” Lily fell into the beanbag next to her. “I mean look at it. Have you ever seen a lad with better looking hair? That’s the hair of a snogging icon, I’m telling you.”

“You'd best be tellin' him that,” Marlene waved, “I can’t be bothered to care about anyone’s hair if it doesn’t come with a set of tits.”

“Just because you’re a lesbian, Marlene, doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate a man like James.” Lily shot back. 

“He’s just a boy,” Marlene said. “In two years you’ll be bored of him and his mediocre hair.”

Lily said confidently, “Nah, I bet the hair in the streets, matches the hair in the sheets.”

Marlene shot an eyebrow up. “He’s a rich nerd who happens to be good at catching a ball, Lily, I just don’t see the reason you’re so caught up on him all of a sudden.”

“No one else has that hair.” Lily sighed, placing her chin in her hand, supported by her elbow on her knee. “Or those biceps, God, remember when he used to be rail thin?!”

“He’s still a rail, he just got older.” Marlene blew her yellow bangs away from her forehead. “He’s not even conventionally attractive, not like Sirius Black. James Potter’s hair looks like a rat's nest compared to Black.”

“James’ hair looks like James just got off a broomstick.” Lily said just as James ruffled his curls, making them even messier. 

Marlene smirked before she sang, “or like he just got off you.”

Red snuck up Lily’s neck at the suggestion. “There are first years nearby, Marley.”

“You’re the one who compared his hair to porn.”

“It was just an expression,” Lily argued. “Besides, he doesn’t even fancy me like that anymore.”

Marlene actually snorted from disbelief. “Says who?”

“Says everyone,” Lily muttered with an eye roll. “The whole school was talking about how he was at Hogsmede with Tina Karloff just last weekend.” Lily’s nose scrunched up unhappily. “Remus Lupin said James took Tina to see the shrieking shack up close just to scare her. You know why he’d want to scare her? To freaking hold her hand, Marlene! It’s Boy Flirting 101! Trust me! I know boys!” 

“Everyone knows boys better than me,” Marlene winked. “But either way, you’re being a drama queen. Just because he took out another girl doesn’t mean his crush on you is gone.”

“That’s exactly what it means.” Lily crossed her arms. “He’s gone and moved on to Tina Karloff, who probably doesn’t even appreciate his hairography.” 

“What kind of name is Tina anyways?” Marlene chuckled as she reopened her magazine. “Imagine having sex with a name like that. There’s no sexy way to moan ‘Tina’ in the heat of the ‘mo.”

Lily crossed her legs as she replied, “but Tina’s a catch, Marley. Just two weeks ago I saw she had the Jezza Witch hat from Diagon Alley and she looked fuckin' amazing in it! Plus, she’s wearing a C cup bra now, according to her roommates. That is the largest in our year besides me.”

“She probably stuffs her bra with tissues.” Marlene mused wickedly. “You still have the best tits, Evans, take it from me. And they're real.” 

“Tina Karloff’s tits are real,” Lily hit her friend’s arm, “we see enough cleavage since she never buttons her shirt all the way up.” 

“How’d Tina Karloff afford a Jezza hat anyways?” Marlene asked jealously as she furiously tabbed to her lost magazine article, still caught up on Lily’s points against herself. “They’re at least five galleons! I thought Tina’s Dad worked at the misuse of the muggle artifacts department. They get paid like shit.” 

But Lily didn’t answer her friend. James Potter had stopped talking. Another member of the team had taken center stage, while the handsome Quidditch captain leaned against the fireplace, his eyes fixed on her. She squeaked and looked away as soon as their eyes met.

“Oh Merlin, Lily,” Marlene laughed, throwing her head back when she noticed who was staring. “Just go ask him for a quick snog and stop acting like a wean who’s seen the boogeyman!”

“But what if I snog him and then don’t like him anymore?”

“What?!” Marlene dropped her magazine in disbelief.

“Come on, Marlene,” Lily said. “It’d be just like Sarah Jackson. She went on and on for weeks about Amos Diggory until Amos finally took her out. Sarah told me that when he kissed her, it was like kissing a waterfall—he had so much drool, she nearly threw up right then and there. Can you blame me for being worried James Potter will be a waterfall kisser?”

“There’s no such thing as a waterfall kisser.”

“How would you know? Have you ever even kissed someone?”

Marlene shot Lily the finger. “Not many openly gay girls around for me to snog, are there Lily?”

Sheepishly Lily apologized, “sorry, Marley.” 

“Just go talk to him before I shove you into the broom closet with him,” Marlene pleaded. “And for Merlin’s sake, leave hairography out of the conversation.”

Lily groaned but got up from her spot. “Fine, I’m going,” she muttered, tossing a half-hearted glare at Marlene, who just grinned and waved her off. Lily wasn’t sure how she ended up in these situations. One moment, she was monologuing to Marlene, and the next, she was being forcefully encouraged to navigate the tangled mess of feelings in her head.

She wandered over to him from her safe bean bag chair, her heart pounding as she reached the thick of the quidditch players. And there he was, leaning against the fireplace, eyes zeroing in on her as she pushed between his two beaters so she could stand beside him. Lily felt her palms go clammy. 

What was she doing? 

But before she could turn and retreat, James smiled. 

“Hey, Evans,” he sang out, moving away from the fireplace toward her. “What’s up?”

Lily fiddled with a strand of her hair, hoping her face didn’t betray how nervous she felt. “Nothing much, just—uh…” She glanced down at her shoes, feeling ridiculous. 

“Yes?” He encouraged. 

And then, Merlin smite her, she actually said out loud, “I like your hair.”

James blinked, caught off guard. “My hair?”

Lily nodded, not daring to look at him. “Yeah. It’s… fluffy.”

He scratched the back of his head, clearly not used to being on the receiving end of compliments. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks. “Uh, thanks. I like your hair too. It’s… really nice.”

Lily finally looked up and smiled, feeling a strange warmth spread through her chest. There was something disarmingly endearing about how flustered he seemed. Maybe Marlene had been right. Maybe he did still fancy her. 

"Really?" she asked, more to fill the silence than anything.

"Yeah, really," James said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "It, uh… always looks perfect. I don’t know how you manage it."

Lily's stomach fluttered, and she let out a small laugh. "Well, I’ve got this potion..."

James grinned, his usual confidence creeping back. "Sleekeazy’s?"

Her eyes widened. "How’d you know?"

His grin grew even wider. "That’s the hair potion my dad invented."

"No way!" Lily gaped at him, incredulous. "You’re full of dragon shit."

James chuckled, ruffling his famously messy hair. "No joke. Dad’s been trying to tame this wild mane his whole life, and passed it down to me."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "And what’s your excuse for the hurricane you call hair? Don’t you use the potion?"

“Nah.” James leaned in closer, his nose almost brushing hers. "I embrace the chaos."

Lily’s breath caught as James leaned in, the warmth between them almost tangible. For a moment, her mind went blank, thoughts of excellent hairography and disastrous snogging vanishing entirely. Instead, she found herself hyper-aware of his closeness—the gold in his eyes, the crooked smirk on his lips. He had freckles dotting his nose from the summer sun. She’d never noticed that before. 

"Is that so?" she managed, her voice softer than she intended.

"Mhm," James murmured, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips before flicking back up to her eyes. "Keeps things interesting, don’t you think?"

Her heart raced, but she refused to let him see her nerves. Instead, she smiled. "I suppose it does."

For a brief moment, the air between them crackled with something unspoken, almost charged with a deeper connection. But before it could escalate, a hand landed on both of their shoulders, and they jumped in surprise. Sirius grinned widely between them.

"Sorry!" he said, squeezing Lily's shoulder and shooting James a mischievous look. "Just... checking in."

James groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Sirius."

Lily bit her lip, quickly averting her gaze as Sirius eyed her with a knowing smirk, clearly wondering what was happening between them.

"Well," she said, straightening up and trying to hide her growing blush, "I should probably get going. But... thanks for the chat."

Peeking out from behind his fingers, James half-waved. "I’m down to discuss hair anytime, Evans.”

Sirius tugged on Lily’s braid mischievously. “Has he told you that he has a thing for redheads?”

“Oh, I think Marlene is calling me.” Lily squeaked, making her untimely departure as swiftly as possible. “Bye!”

As she pulled away from Sirius' grip, a wave of relief and embarrassment washed over her. Maybe things with James weren’t as complicated as she thought. Yet, judging by the disapproving glance James threw at Sirius, it was obvious he had more he wanted to say. She wondered if he did actually have a thing for redheads. 

She cast a glance over her shoulder just as James wrestled Sirius into a headlock, Sirius’ laughter echoing loudly. James looked up and caught her eye just in time. She offered a soft smile, and he smiled back, releasing Sirius so abruptly that the troublemaker crashed to the floor with a yelp. She waved once more, feeling a flutter in her stomach that she couldn't quite ignore when James waved back. Something very much like butterflies danced inside her as she nervously twisted her red braid, considering that maybe she’d find another reason to speak to him again soon. 

Or maybe she’d just back him up into an alcove when no one was looking, kiss him, and finally run her fingers through that magnificent hair of his. If Sirius black was right, he’d probably enjoy tangling up in her hair as well. Lily smiled to herself. 

Hairography, indeed.

[widowbitessting]

Sugar Mommies Season 2, Part 4

Welcome back to my little corner of the internet! Get blankets, something warm to drink and enjoy the next chapter of this universe <3

Lots of love,

Livvy xox

Trigger Warnings: There's a negative word for lesbians mentioned, as well as the brief appearance of this seasons antagonists. I will do a trigger warning for every time they make an appearance, I want to keep you all safe. If you want to read after seeing this trigger warning, please do not send me hate afterwards. I have warned you. If anything triggers you, please do not read.

“Natty? Hi!”

You can hear her smiling through the phone as you giddily jump up and down on the spot. 

You don’t care if people are looking at you. 

The fact that you’re actually speaking to Natasha, after what feels like the longest period of your life, is enough to fill your brain with serotonin to last you weeks.

“Hi, baby.” She chuckles. “Excited to hear from me, are you?”

God, you missed her voice. 

You miss everything about her.

So freaking much.

“Very excited, I missed you!” You can’t stop smiling. Grinning even. “Where’s Wanda? Is she okay?”

“Clearly you haven’t missed me that much if you’re already asking for Wanda, kitten.” 

Your smile falters.

“No! Wait!” 

But Natasha laughs and the worry of upsetting her all but evaporates.

Carol watches you, grinning.

Only stopping to cast a defensive glare at a teen who watches you with a disgusted look. 

Subtly turning you so you don’t register the teen. 

You’re telling a story about face planting a door to even notice Carol moving you. 

Your mood is far too innocent to deal with any obnoxious people. 

When Carol is happy you’re still fully consumed by your conversation with Natasha, as well as distracted by the sugary goodness on the counters display, Carol returns her attention to the teen and raises an eyebrow, glaring at him.

When he clocks her stare, the boy’s glare falls from his face but he doesn’t back down. 

“Is there a problem?” Carol asks in a low, warning tone.

The boy doesn’t reply. 

He takes his drink and pastry and walks past, muttering the word, “Dykes.” under his breath so Carol specifically hears it.

She’s just so happy Natasha has you under her spell.

And oh, how Carol wishes she responded. 

Cause a scene over this teen roach who wants to try and hurt you. 

Hurt what’s hers. 

Theirs. 

Their baby girl.

It seems that karma wants this kid almost as badly as Carol does because the second he opens the door; three seagulls go for him.

White blurs tackle him, snatching bits of his pastry, leaving it reduced to nothing but soggy crumbs in his hand within seconds. 

He lets out a startled scream.

In his haste to scramble away with what dignity he has, the boy ends up tipping his coffee all over his white shirt. 

As well as almost losing one of his trainers in the process. 

Carol watches, a smug smile firm on her face as the teenager bats away the seagulls with what remains of his pastry.

The rest of the coffee shop customers are watching too, enjoying the free show.

When the kid lets out a long stream of swear words, it catches your attention and you glance outside too; just in time to see the kid throwing his empty coffee cup to the ground in anger. 

You glance at Carol.

“What did I miss?”

“Nothing, baby girl.” She kisses your temple. “Keep on talking with Natty.”

You shrug and go back to looking at the delicious treats. 

Carol’s hand once again finds your own as the boy contemplates coming back into the store. 

But he catches Carol’s gaze - as well as most of the others in the store - and rethinks his options. 

Instead, he swaggers off, trying to keep what little of his pride he had left. 

Which in Carol’s eyes isn’t a lot. 

When she turns her attention back to you, your nose is all but pressed up against the glass counter. 

“Easy there, baby girl. You’re gonna go through the glass if you’re not careful.” 

Carol can’t help the small grimace as you pull back, a nose print staining the glass. 

Groaning about germs as you shoot her a sheepish look. 

“Tell Carol we say hi, baby?” Natasha asks you.

“I will, after I get to speak with Wanda.”

“Oh? Was that an order, little girl?” The red head replies.

“I - no.” 

“Pass the phone to Carol like a good little girl and we’ll forget this happened, understood?”

“Yes, daddy.”

You hand the phone quickly and get a brief head scratch from Carol in return.

“Stop scaring the small one, baby.” Carol says with a smirk into the phone. “Oh? Is that so?”

Carol’s playful demeanour changes so suddenly it has you nervously biting at your thumb.

“Leave it with me. You’re not staying there for another two weeks.” 

“Two weeks?” You can’t stop the pout from forming.

Carol yanks you to her side and cuddles you close.

“No, baby. They’ll be home in two days like we promised. No later.”

Natasha continues the conversation and Carol listens. 

Sensing your worry, she asks Natasha to pause before speaking to you.

“Go and order our drinks, kitten. Order the sweetest thing that you had your eye on and then find us a table, okay? Everything is fine.” 

“Do you want an americano or a latte?” You ask a little glumly.

Carol leans down to peck your lips.

“Americano, please, baby. With warm milk.” 

You nod, and reluctantly do as you’re told, letting go of Carol’s hand to walk to the till to make your orders. 

Only, as you’re about to open your mouth to greet the lady, Carol shouts your name.

“I’ll call Nat back on my cell. You got a message too, baby.” 

She chucks you your phone and you manage to catch it straight to your chest. 

You wince. 

You don’t even check who it is, instead opting to pocket it so you can order your drinks and treat instead. 

The need for sugar is too high.

They’re going to be gone for two more weeks? How is that even fair?

And what if Carol has to go back?

You’ll be alone once again; being an awkward third wheel to MJ and Peter…eating crappy take out while they are all cuddled up on the couch under the same blanket…

“...hon? That’ll be $13 total.”

“Oh! Sorry.” 

The cashier smiles.

“How will you be paying today?”

“Card, please.” 

Of course when you go to pay, Carol just appears with her own card, and taps it against the machine before you can blink.

“My treat, baby.” She kisses your cheek, smiling when you blush slightly. “I’ll bring the drinks over.”

“Okay,” You lean up so you can kiss her cheek. “I’m waiting for my cookie though. Don’t want you taking a sneaky bite.”

“You don’t want me to take a sneaky bite of your cookie?”

You can hear Natasha’s belly laugh from Carol’s cell and fight back the blush when the server comes back with your treat. 

You just know she heard Carol’s remark with the way she refuses to make eye contact with you. 

“One chocolate chip cookie. Your drinks will be a couple minutes.” 

You go to take your treat from her but somehow, despite being quick, Carol manages to get it before you.

She takes a large bite from your cookie before handing it over to you.  

“Yummy.” Carol says, crumbs falling from her lips. “Good choice, kitten.”

“My cookie…”

You’re pouting and you fully know it. 

“I’ll take another bite if you don’t stop pouting. Go and find us a table.” 

You glance at your cookie and sigh. 

“Fine.”

You turn and jump, a squeak escaping your lips when Carol smacks your ass. 

“Less attitude too, please.”

“Sorry, Carol.”

You set off to find a table and the thought hits you. 

You don’t have a middle ground nickname. For any of them. 

Sure you have their dom titles; but in this case, calling Carol ‘Captain’ just doesn’t work.

You make the mental note to ask Carol this when she joins you. 

You flop onto the sofa seat and sigh, nibbling on part of the cookie that Carol left you. 

“Stupid, big mouth, dom.” 

Your phone buzzes again. 

“If this is you MJ, wanting a hot chocolate, I swear to God.”

But it isn’t MJ. 

No. 

Your body freezes.

It’s your bimonthly texts from your parents.

Coming in with a slam dunk to ruin your mood.

You can’t even bring yourself to open the messages; knowing they’ll be waiting to check for the ‘Read’ icon. 

A request of hers. 

So you opt for blissful ignorance instead. 

Lying your phone screen down on the table, you nibble your cookie and watch Carol talk on the phone. 

You can tell she’s stressed. 

She wants Natasha and Wanda home just as much as you do.

When your phone buzzes again, you shove it roughly back into your pocket; mood officially sour.

The messages will be waiting when you get home.

They will still be waiting. 

You refuse to let them ruin this. 

Ruin the good in your life. 

No. 

You want to live in this bubble with your darling Trio a little while longer. 

Before they come into it and destroy everything. 

Is it too much to ask?

[waytooinvested]

Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 27

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They sat in silence for a little while after that, the quiet broken only by a low, regular beeping from one of Kara’s monitors and the distant bustle of the DEO going about its day to day business. Out there agents would be dealing with (hopefully relatively minor) emergencies, hurrying about on important missions, gossiping, arguing, keeping the world turning; but in here behind the closed med bay doors everything was blessedly still. As Lena’s breathing synced to Kara’s, she finally began to feel her heart rate returning to something like its normal rhythm. She was alright. It was all going to be alright now.

‘Lena?’

‘Mmm?’

‘Are you sure you’re really okay to stay here? Because you don’t have to, if- I mean, I don’t want you to go obviously. But I know you walked out on a big event for me, and if you have things you need to do, or if you just want some space to process and be mad at me, you can. I’ll be fine, and I promise not to do anything to get myself hurt again if you’re not here to keep an eye on me.’

The small part of Lena that was still inhabiting her other life pointed out that yes, she really should go. She should be checking on Jess and the demo team, reviewing footage, writing press releases and a thousand other things, but she ignored it.

It wasn’t that it didn’t matter.

It was just that the part of her brain where it mattered was so far away from where she was right now, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything about it but hold Kara tighter.

‘As long as you want me here, this is where I want to be. Anyway, the advantage of everyone thinking I just had my appendix out is that I’m now more or less obliged not to do any work for the next couple of days at least, and even after that I’ll need to take it easy while I “recover from my surgery”.’

Saying this reminded Lena of the other recovery plan she had yet to discuss with Kara, and all of a sudden her stomach was fluttering with a very different kind of anxiety to the one she’d felt earlier. The idea had seemed so reasonable when she’d suggested it to Alex, but now it felt bigger somehow, more significant and… intimate.

Don’t be silly. You’re not suggesting a lesbian u-haul, this is a purely practical, platonic, medically sensible arrangement. Just ask her.

‘Actually Kara… I was thinking maybe we could recover together. Since your apartment has so many stairs up to it and Alex doesn’t have a spare room, I wondered if you’d be up for coming to stay with me for a few weeks? Just until you’re well enough to manage by yourself. It could be fun: like a best friend sleepover every night, only with less Twister and more pain meds.’

‘We have never played Twister at a sleepover. We absolutely should though, I love that game, and Alex has refused to play it with me since high school.’

‘So… is that a yes?’

Lena was already smiling through the question, still nervous but finally allowing the feeling to mingle with a growing excitement at the idea of sharing a home with Kara (no matter how briefly and platonically it might be). But rather than the ‘of course!’ and happy smile she was expecting Kara’s worry crinkle appeared between her brows, and she bit her lip. Almost immediately she released it again with a pained hiss, but instead of answering the question she just muttered something under her breath about stupid hard sidewalks and their effect on the stupid soft human body if you fell just a tiny bit, and how was anyone ever supposed to stay in one piece anyway?

‘… Kara?’

The grumbling stopped.

‘Sorry, I’m just- I’m not sure it’s the best idea.’

‘Oh.’

Lena had considered a dozen potential pitfalls for her plan to take care of Kara through her injury, but for some reason the idea that she simply might not want to live together had never occurred to her. She had no right to feel disappointed by that, but she did. Just a little bit.

As if Kara could read her mind, she hurried to reassure her.

‘It’s not that I don’t want to! I’m sure being roommates would be so much fun, and I’m really, really grateful for the offer, it’s amazing of you. It’s just that… well, I’m going to need help with showering and getting to the bathroom and things, at least until my wrist is better. And I just wasn’t sure if you could… do that?’

‘Oh!’ Lena said again, and then chuckled. Was that all?

She might never be a match for her unfairly advantaged Kryptonian friend when it came to physical strength, but did Kara really think she didn’t have it in her to help someone to the bathroom without dropping them?

…Alright, so there had been that one time at the bunker when she had technically dropped Kara, but it had been mostly Alex’s fault, and anyway, Kara didn’t know about that. Besides, Lena had been keeping up her strength training ever since (despite the voice in her head that pointed out how many other things she had to do, and how unlikely she was to end up in a situation where she would need to carry an unconscious adult by herself (again)), and her muscles had never been in better shape than they were right now. She flexed them subtly, feeling the satisfying strain of her biceps against the unyieldingly tight fabric of her shirt sleeves.

‘Luckily for you it just so happens that I’ve been working on building up my strength the last few months. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.’

This time.

‘No, that’s not- I mean, great! Um, wow, that’s- that’s so great, but. Um.’

Instead of sounding relieved Kara’s voice had gone weirdly high, her cheeks blooming suddenly and startlingly pink against the pallor of post-injury shock, and the steady beeping of her heart rate monitor had noticeably increased in a way that made no sense, unless-

Lena swallowed, throat drying as she considered the possible implications.

‘… Is it because I’d see you naked?’

‘Well-’

Kara was now so red she looked almost sunburned, but she didn’t try to bluff or deny it.

‘Um. Kind of? But for you, not me. Things have been so good between us lately, I don’t want to push it too far and make you feel uncomfortable around me.’

‘Oh darling, of course I wouldn’t be. Why would you think I’d feel uncomfortable?’

‘Because of… you know… our fight. The whole…’

Kara hesitated, as if Lena might jump in and spare her from having to finish her sentence, but she didn’t. A dawning, horrified suspicion had begun to form in her mind at Kara’s mumbled words, and she needed her to finish.

After an agonising couple of seconds, she did, in a whisper.

‘The gay thing.’

The gay thing.

The GAY THING?

As in her gay thing?

Or… Kara’s gay thing?

Was Kara saying what she thought she was saying?

It was no good, she couldn’t keep guessing or trying to put the pieces together with an incomplete picture, no matter that she was supposed to know all of this already. She had to ask. Lena closed her eyes for a few moments, trying to picture snow. Frost. Blizzards and ice and the goddamn Arctic Circle to keep her cheeks from flaming, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t working.

‘I think-’

She broke off to clear her throat, and was relieved when her voice came out steadier on a second attempt.

‘I think maybe you and I have a different perspective on exactly what happened in our fight. Would you please tell me your side?’

Kara squirmed.

‘I don’t want to bring it all back up again. I don’t want to ruin this.’

She looked more frightened than Lena thought she had ever seen her before, and it took everything she had not to take the request back, to tell her they didn’t have to talk about it after all, not if she really didn’t want to (but they did have to. They’d put this off too long already. Lena had put it off too long. She needed to know).

‘Kara, I know it’s hard and just after you’ve had an accident isn’t the best time to have this conversation, but I still think we need to. I’m sorry I stopped you when you tried to raise this before, but I’m ready to listen properly now. I’m not going anywhere this time, and I’m not going to get angry with you again. I promise.’

‘Okay…’

Kara stared down at her knees, still looking like she’d rather take her chances jumping off another roof than talking about this, but not arguing any further.

‘So I should probably start at the beginning of the whole Hopeful Paragon thing. Given how our- um… conversation about that went, I don’t think I ever properly explained to you why I was doing it in the first place. And before I do I want to be clear that this isn’t an excuse for what happened with us at all, but I think it might help explain some things. A bit. Maybe.’

Lena nodded encouragingly, trying to look as if she had some idea of what Hopeful Paragon was, and desperately hoping that whatever Kara said next would explain what it had to do with the gay thing without her having to ask (“a different perspective” was one thing, but there was no way to explain why she didn’t know something that was clearly so fundamental to what had supposedly happened between them).

‘Go ahead.’

‘Right, okay… So at the time I was kind of in a rut. I know this sounds like a pretty lame excuse for not doing more with my life, but I stuck out like a sore thumb in Midvale, and after that blending in kind of became my life’s purpose. I kept my head down, tried to fit in, and pushed down all the parts of me that were too loud, or strange, or felt things that people would find inconvenient. Being Ms Grant’s assistant was the perfect job for that person, because the whole point of a PA is that if you’re doing it right, people barely notice you’re there at all. I tried to be happy with that, but the most I could hope to achieve in my day was keeping Cat in a good enough mood that she didn’t make anyone cry, and I hardly ever managed even that much. It all felt so small and pointless, but I didn’t know how to be anything else. Then I created the Hopeful Paragon blog, and I suddenly had this space where I could be something different without having to tear my whole life down. I could still be me the rest of the time, but I could also be a hero.’

Kara winced at herself as she said the word, attempting to wave it away with her bound arm as if forestalling a criticism that Lena had not been going to make. Whatever had happened between them, Kara was a hero. Powers or no powers. Part of Lena wanted to voice the thought, but she held her tongue in favour of hearing the rest of the story.

‘That sounds so stupid now when I’m so obviously not a hero, but that’s how it seemed at the time. The blog got kind of big, and it made me feel confident in a way I never was in my normal life. I got to be loud, and angry, and fight for real change without worrying about getting in trouble for professional conflict of interest, or… I don’t know, being hunted down by someone dangerous I’d done an exposé on. It was this wonderful, private outlet that only a handful of people knew about, and when you and I started talking through it it didn’t seem like a big deal not to say anything at first, because I didn’t really know you well as Kara yet anyway. Only then I did and I still kept putting off telling you. At first because it would have sounded so weird, and then because- because somehow you made it feel like just being myself as Kara was a good thing, like it was the better thing. You made me feel like I didn’t need all the bravado and glamour to be worthy, because I just was. I didn’t want you to stop seeing me that way, so I made more and more excuses not to tell you the truth yet. But the more I waited the worse it was that I hadn’t told you, and then…’

Kara hesitated again, eyes flicking nervously up to Lena’s face and then back down to her own knees, as if she hoped they might take over for her if she willed it hard enough. She clearly didn’t want to say whatever came next, but Lena didn’t prompt her. She sat still on the bed, giving Kara space to find the words she needed and breathing through her own experience of reliving their past. It hurt to hear it aloud, even filtered through de-kryptonised memories. It might always hurt a little bit. But what had once been a knife twisting in her heart was now the gentle ache of a healing scar, and for each painful memory that surfaced in her mind, half a dozen good ones rose up to soften it.

There was so much more to Kara Danvers (to them) than the lie that had torn them apart, and Lena was convinced now that Kara truly meant it when she said she would never hurt her like that again. They were growing past their mistakes, and they were stronger than their history. Stronger together.

The quiet stretched out for several long moments more, but eventually Kara took a deep, shaky breath and continued.

‘When Jack came to town I realised how jealous I was of what he meant to you, and I handled it… badly. After I crashed your date like a total weirdo I promised I wouldn’t ever let myself do something like that again, and I guess the online chats became the place where I was allowed to feel that way. Because Kara knew you were straight and into Jack, and then James, but Hopeful Paragon didn’t. Then when you found out it was a woman who had been flirting with you and you didn’t react how I’d hoped it felt like this huge, personal attack, and I got mad and insecure and I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. And Lena, I know how it sounded, but I truly, truly didn’t mean any of it. Almost as soon as the fight was over I realised what I’d done, but it was already too late by then. You didn’t want to talk to Hopeful Paragon anymore.’

A tear trickled down Kara’s grazed cheek but she didn’t stop speaking this time, forcing the words out even as she began to cry in earnest.

‘I lost you from that part of my life, but you were still best friends with Kara, and I couldn’t bear for you to hate her too. So I kept lying to you, about Hopeful Paragon and about my feelings for you, and… God, I can’t even imagine how awful it felt to find all that out the way you did. What I did to you was the biggest mistake of my entire life, and I don’t blame you for cutting me out for it. I am so, so grateful that you forgave me and came back anyway, but I know that the way I felt -the way I feel- must still make it hard to be my best friend. I just don’t want to push that too far. Because of course helping me shower wouldn’t be about... that, but also, it would be way too much to ask of you in the circumstances.’

Fuck.

Shitfuckfuckfuckshittingfucking FUCK.

That’s what Kara thought they had fought over instead of her making kryptonite?

All this time.

All this time, Kara had believed that Lena was homophobic, and had kept being her friend anyway. And Jack, and James… well, that was a lot to take in too. Was Kara rebuilding false emotions to go along with her false memories for what had happened in those cases, or had she really had feelings for Lena for that long?

Was she every bit as oblivious about Kara’s feelings as Kara had been about hers?

Maybe if she had confessed outright that she was in love with Kara when she had first realised it, her friend would have shared her secret in return, and none of this would have happened.

Lena wouldn’t have withdrawn after Lex had spilled the beans.

Lex would never have kidnapped Kara and stolen her memories.

Kara would never have lost her powers and wouldn’t now be lying injured in a hospital bed, with only sheer luck having prevented her from dying after falling off a roof.

Maybe instead they would be dating now. Working together to save the world and then going home at night to share the same bed.

She and Kara might have had it all.

She reached for Kara’s hand, the tremble in her own obvious as she wrapped her fingers around it and stroked her thumb tenderly across the knuckles.

‘I’m so sorry I made you think I didn’t like that part of who you are, but I promise that wasn’t true. Not for Hopeful Paragon, and never, ever for Kara Danvers. Everything that happened in that fight- you have to understand that what I did then wasn’t what I would have done if you and I were having that conversation. To me S- Hopeful Paragon wasn’t my best friend. She was an acquaintance that I liked and respected, but who crossed boundaries that weren’t hers to cross...’

Lena paused, but only for a moment. Her heart was pounding erratically and she couldn’t quite believe any of this was really happening, but after what Kara had just told her anything but the truth would just hurt both of them, now and later.

‘-They were yours, Kara. James, and even Jack… you never had anything to worry about. If I’d thought you were an option, it would always have been you.’

Kara’s expression flickered through a dozen different emotions ranging from shock, anguish, disbelief, incredulity, and finally, as she glanced between Lena’s face and the hand around hers, settled on a fragile, tentative hope.

‘ Really ?’

‘Really.’

She swallowed thickly.

‘So... if I had just told you…’

‘Or if I’d told you, instead of trying to get you to notice me flirting with flowers and low cut shirts and, ah, media companies.’

‘You- oh. Oh. I’m such a dummy.’

Lena surprised herself with a chuckle, because, yeah she kind of was. Apparently they both were.

‘Maybe, but you’re a very cute dummy.’

She watched Kara’s still-wet cheeks going pink again at the compliment, felt her tentatively turn her hand in Lena’s so she could lace their fingers together, and was hit with a wave of such tender fondness that it was almost too much to bear.

‘So… will you come and stay with me? Let me help you until you’re well enough to live alone again?’

‘I- yeah. Yes. I would love that. Thank you Lena.’

‘Always.’

She still couldn’t quite take in the fact that Kara had actually just confessed having feelings for her, and that she had confessed right back. She had always imagined that if they ever got to that moment, their declarations would be made into the diminishing space between their lips as they met for a kiss that could be held back no longer. She had fantasised about it a dozen different ways, from light and sweet to hungry and desperate. She had kissed Kara in every way and every place she could think of in her imagination and was certain that none of them would live up to the reality of even the softest brush against the unbroken skin of her top lip, but as it was, neither of them moved to make it a reality.

Kara let her head settle onto Lena’s shoulder, and Lena moved so that her cheek rested lightly against the familiar softness of Kara’s hair, their hands remaining clasped together in the small space between them on the bed. It wasn’t the right time for anything more than that, not for either of them. Lena’s silent promise not to have this conversation yet might be lying shattered at her feet, but she could at least make sure that things didn’t go any further until she could be sure that Kara knew what she was choosing, and that this wasn’t just an effect of her false memories.

And if this was all they could have, even if it was all they ever had, it was enough for Lena.

Kara was enough.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Evil Queen x GenderNeutral!Reader x Maleficent || Smutshot

Plot: Hilda and Mal don’t usually get along but they don’t mind using each other to make you into a mess. // Or, they make you watch them and then clean them up with your mouth.

Warnings: Threesome themes, smut, lesbian sex/rubbing, grinding/humping, pussy licking, cum tasting, Hilda being rough, Mal being gentle, Mal refusing to say Hilda's name right, no actual mention of sex organs or cumming for the reader, etc. This was a middle-of-the-night, 'cant sleep', idea!! It is also unedited so I apologie for the unfiltered filth (:

“Well, Y/N??” Hilda’s looking at you with one perfect raised eyebrow, and you just stare dumbly back at her; unsure you’re really seeing what you think you’re seeing. She doesn’t seem to mind it though, possibly expecting it- possibly intending to make you that way. “Lay down. I’m not doing this for my own pleasure, you know.”

Mal gives Hilda and sceptical look, almost as if she wants to laugh at her. “No, certainly not,” Then her eyes roam over to you and develop a softness you rarely see. Or maybe you just don’t notice it. Maybe she looks at you like this all the time, but you only notice now as you compare the way she looks at you to the mischievous way Hilda does. “But she’s right, pet. Make sure you get a good view- this certainly will not be happening again.”

“Absolutely not… “  

“Well- “Mal looks at Hilda once again, a teasing smirk on her lips as she draws the other woman who’s always ever so irritated with her, in against her body; Experiencing skin-to-skin contact with her for the very first time. “Depending on how Y/N enjoys it actually.”

Hilda gives a drawn-out sigh, rolling her eyes upwards. She doesn’t lean away from Maleficent but she does look away from her. You can tell, by the way this woman does not back down though- that she’s invested herself in what they’re about to do. “… we’ll see… “

“Hmm~ “

Then, Hilda’s eyes return to you once again and Mal’s follow, looking amused a you stay by the door- wondering whether this is real or not. When Hilda called you to her courters you felt anxiety build up in the pit of your stomach, worried you were in trouble. You certainly didn’t expect this. You certainly didn’t expect to see her and Mal both… together, like this. Naked, kneeling on the bed together.

And asking you to lay your head down below their sexes and watch.

“What are you waiting for, my dear?” The Queen asks, watching your eyes dip down to wear their pussy’s are level with eachother, ready to touch. How Mal’s thigh sits ever so slightly between Hilda’s. “Don’t make my wait any longer.”

“Um- “Your cheeks are so hot, as you near Hilda’s large bed covered in fur rugs and silky sheets in the colours red and pink, and carefully- hesitantly- crawl up on to it. Mal’s eyes follow you carefully as you lay down on your back, close to them. If it weren’t for the heat in her eyes and way Hilda insisted, or demanded, you would be very embarrassed. Instead though you feel a torturous ache in the pit of your stomach replace your nerves. “Okay… “

“Very good. Now Hilde?... “Mal turns with a smirk to the queen, affectionately stroking her cheek with her thumb as Hilda scowls back at her.

“Hilda, you dirty green fly.”

“Of course.” Mal replies, though here it’s said like ‘whatever’. “Shall we put on a show for our dear Y/N??... or are you going to continue making that face at me, instead?”

Here Hilda pauses, a tight frown pulling at her pretty lips and creasing her fair features and for a moment she looks as if she’s about to snap again at the fairy… but just lets out a defeated sigh and you notice she looks graceful and regal- even as she leans in and presses her cunt against the other woman; The lips a breath apart. “I can accomplish both.”

“Hmmm~ Of course you can.”

As the two slowly start to rock against each other, rubbing their most private parts against each other, you feel your mouth fall slightly open at the sight. The two pairs of lower lips, stimulated and wet, grinding against eachother- making you ache to do something too. You throb at the sight just above you, so close you could lean up and kiss them if you were so brave, and Hilda notices you. Her eyes flicker down to you quickly and it spurs her on- looking forward to the part where you will put your soft tongue on her instead of having this awful fairy’s dirty cunt rubbing all over her.

She spreads her knees a little wider and moves her hips slowly against Mal’s- aiming for the most pressure in their most sensitive places. The sooner they cum and make a mess of each other, the sooner she can sit on your face.

Mal has her eyes closed, picturing you instead of the up-tight queen. It makes her far more responsive to her ministrations. And far more needy. She finds herself reaching around to Hilda’s admittedly amazing ass and dragging her taught against her as they grind. Harder, tighter, sloppier. Soon they’re humping at each other desperately, angling themselves so their cunts connect and cross perfectly with eachother, their lips melding together roughly and their clits sending jolts of pleasure every single time they make contact.

When Mal finally opens her eyes a crack, to see you trailing your fingers down towards your own area, probably searing hot and throbbing at just watching them. She smirks and drags her gaze over to Hilda. The other woman looks focused, determined, but there’s no denying that foggy look in her eyes.

She is loving the Maleficent’s pussy.

“Hm,” Mal gives a half hum/half puff at her. “Grim~… “

“Hilda... and what?” She demands, not looking away from where they connect, very focused on reaching her orgasm and cumming all over the fairy’s abused cunt. Her hands are on Mal’s hips and she helps to press them against each other.

“Look at me… “A very sharp nail makes contact with the soft skin below Hilda’s chin and guides her face upwards, to look at her. “Y/N’s looking rather adorable, aren’t they?... “

At a mention of yourself, your eyes widen like saucers as you look at to their faces. They both look back down to you and, yes- you look overwhelmed and submissive and perfect. “I knew they would.”

Those words from Hilda mean something, the Evil Queen doesn’t hand out compliments for nothing. It causes your lips fall open once again.

-Oh fuck, Hilda thinks. Fuck, fuck, fucking… god, all she wants is to put her cunt in your mouth. What do you expect she’s going to feel when you open your mouth like that??? “Mmmgh,” She groans, halfway between frustrated and pleasured, and turns away from you. She forces her lips onto her Mal’s, which are far softer and far more pleasant then she thought, and thrusts her tongue down her throat as a distraction.

You watch this with shock and lust- their mouths are barely closed so you can see where their tongues collide and you just want to be one of them. You want to do something. You need-

Letting out a frustrated sound of your own, you give in and lean upwards. Your lips find where Mal’s and Hilda’s pretty pussy’s collide and slowly graze your lips over the area in an open mouthed kiss. Just as you’re pressing your hot tongue against them, Hilda bucks her hips and you carefully move back down to the mattress just in time to see Mal hold Hilda’s hips perfectly still against hers- and cum.

Hilda comes as well, leaking her own jizz all over the place. They both let out contended sighs and god, they look like goddesses to you.

Quickly they rub themselves against each other again, spreading their juices all over eachother’s pelvic areas- creating a good amount of mess for you to clean up, then disconnect and sit down; Breathing heavily and recovering from their highs as you sit up and stretch your back.

~

Mal’s watching you as you do so, her eyes following the curve of your body until you look back at her- wondering why she’s watching you. When you raise a brow at her, she smirks. “Well?? Who are you going to clean first, love?”

“… Uh,” You look from her, to Hilda for help, and then back to Mal when Hilda proves unhelpful. “What- what do you mean?”

When you look to Hilda this time, she takes pity on you and curls one finger at you; Gesturing for you to go over to her which, obediently, you do. You come to her until she stops you, a hand on your chest, meaning you’re so close to your lips are very nearly touching. Hilda’s giving you a smirk, before she moves off the headboard of her bed and leans in towards your ear.

“You’re going to use your tongue, my dear. Clean us… with your tongue.”

When she leans back against the headboard once again she sees your eyes wide open and shocked, and loves it. Good, she thinks… now part your lips again. Please.

Your eyes slowly move down her body to her glistening groin, and you’re all too happy to go down then and bury your face there. Immediately her fingers are in your hair, scraping painfully over your scalp as her back arches up into your wet mouth. You lick Mal’s cum off of the queen’s skin greedily, spreading your tongue flat against her and taking as much as you can- until you get to her lips. There, you slow really down and dare to tease the Queen a little bit. Even with her claws in your scalp.

You give her clit only little kitten-licks, and slurp against her mound only softly. Taking the flavour from her slowly… and torturously gently.

“Oh, my dear… “Mal chuckles, watching the scene and probably the furious look in Hilda’s eyes with utter amusement. “I wouldn’t do that to her, if I were you… she’s been waiting for your mouth quite~ a~ while~ She’s liable to do something… a little rough, for you.”

“I think they want me to, Maleficent… “ Hilda’s voice is a surprise, above you. Gone is the mischievous, sensual drawl from before… “I can do that.” Now there’s a cold, sharp edge to it. Hollow. And just as you’re about to disconnect your lips from her warm, used, perfect pussy- her fingers slide down from your scalp to the back of your neck and forces you down securely against her.

This woman uses your mouth, now, grinding against your face so all you can do is hold your mouth open for her and stick your tongue out to roll through her holds.

It goes on like this, her using your tongue like a glorified toy and you just taking it like a desperate, obedient, slutty servant, until she cums again directly into your mouth this time. You moan at the flavour, licking into her once again and taking it all as she slows down and lowers her hips back down to the bed.

When you take your mouth away from her this time, she lets you. And as you sit back up properly again she gives you quite a pleased look- returning back to her controlled state, with hooded eyes and almost a frown on her lips. Whoever knew Hilda had such a side to her?… Well, you aren’t complaining. You can still feel her on your tongue.

“I think it’s my turn now, pet~” Mal calls, catching your attention from the other side of the bed.

“Oh- “When you turn your head to her, you’re choked to see her lazily thrusting two long green fingers in and out of her hole as she watched you with Hilda. Oh my god. As if hypnotized, you crawl over to her but before you get the chance to lower yourself to her hole- she takes a finger and guides your lips to hers in a kiss, first.

Its surprisingly gentle compared to how Hilda treated you. Surprising, because you never would have thought Mal would be the softer lover between them. You contend that you shouldn’t judge them without knowing better, again, as she kisses you warmly; Sucking the flavour of Hilda’s cunt and her cum off your tongue.

When its over, and she slowly lets you go, she gives an almost encouraging smile- if it weren’t for the evil glint always in her eyes. “… there. Now you’re clean.”

“… ugh, Mal.” Hilda rolls her eyes from across the bed. The gesture is almost audible, even as Mal has your full attention. “You’re so sentimental.”

“To each their own, Hilly… “

[noturlondonboy]

If Kate + Kate Makes Two… (Prt. 3)

-Bishova/Kate Bishop Selfcest Miniseries

Requested by @selfcestmovies

Masterlist

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova x Kate Bishop

Summary: The unlikely trio returns back to Past Kate’s apartment, where some odd, unforeseen chemistry builds when Yelena is attempting to make macaroni.

Warnings/tags: touches of angst, hints of Kate x Kate, silly lesbians being gay, not proof read, idk what to put really

A/N: part 3! Took me long enough… either way enjoy and share your thoughts <33

Kate is barely aware of two different pairs of hands gently tugging her away from Dr. Strange’s sanctum, one pair familiar, one pair even more so. The freezing January air is cold and dark on her face and in her eyes, but she suddenly feels much too warm, and without much thinking, she unzips her coat and pulls it from her body. There are a few protests that don’t register in her ears, but ultimately, neither Yelena or Other Kate stop her.

Kate trudges ahead of them in a daze, her feet dragging on the pavement as she weaves aimlessly through the late night New York crowds on the sidewalk. Wanda’s voice rings over and over in her head, stuffing her ears painfully with cotton.

We don’t know if we can get you back.

She rubs tiredly at her face, lips pulling into a frown. There was too much to think about. Too much to consider.

From behind her, Yelena and Other Kate watch apprehensively, the archer eerily silent and the assassin quietly contemplative. Yelena lets her gaze drift between the two women. She feels a bit lost in thought, and more than anything, unsure of what to do next.

Wanda’s assurances of her and Strange working to find a solution for their current predicament had been half-hearted at best, and the poorly hidden worried look on the witch’s face left an aftertaste of anxiety in Yelena’s mouth. The entire situation was so strange, and this older Kate Bishop may not be the one she was dating, but still- it hurt to see her struggling like this.

“So…” Kate says from beside her, kicking at a few rocks as they walk with her hand stuffed in her pockets. “We probably need to figure out where she’s gonna stay.”

Yelena nods absently, her fingers tangling with her girlfriend’s. “Yeah. I guess she would probably be most comfortable in her own- in your apartment, yes?”

Kate’s lips pull into a small frown as she takes Yelena’s hand. “Yeah, probably.”

They silently watch older Kate trudge along in front of them, her pace lost and uneven as her head hangs down.

“I cannot even begin to understand how weird this must be for her,” the blonde murmurs, tilting her chin softly.

“Yeah, I’m feeling pretty thrown off too, and I’m still where I’m supposed to be.”

Yelena hums a soft breath, her mind distant the entire walk back to Kate’s apartment. When they arrive at the door, older Kate stares at it for a moment before her unfocused gaze turns to them, and she backs up a few steps.

Kate fumbles for her keys for a moment before pushing the door to the apartment open and leading them inside, and she and Yelena kick their shoes off and hang up jackets. Older Kate stays where is, just barely within the threshold of the apartment, her coat hanging limply in her arms as she stares blankly at the floor.

Kate and Yelena share a silent look for a moment before the archer approaches quietly, pushing away the unease that was still settled in her gut at seeing her own face in front of her without a mirror- albeit a tad more weathered, a few scrapes and bruises here and there, some piercings she didn’t have yet, and longer hair. But this was still her- her own self, her own body, her own mind.

And she- they?- were rightfully freaking out.

“Kate?”

Older Kate’s eyes snap up to meet hers, and once again, the strange feeling of having an identical gaze looking back at her washes just underneath her skin.

“I would ask if you’re okay but-”

“-that would be a silly question,” Older Kate finishes for her.

Kate gives a weak grin and nods, biting back a joke about finishing each other’s sentences. Older Kate is doing the same.

“Okay, well… you probably need to eat something, yeah? We didn’t have breakfast and I have no idea when you last had food before you… came here.”

Older Kate is silent for a moment, a muscle in her jaw ticking as she swallows. Kate finds her eyes following the movement, a strange feeling in her gut before she tears her gaze away and sees herself staring back with an unreadable expression.

It’s silent in the apartment for a moment, only broken by Yelena shuffling around in the main room somewhere behind them. Eventually Older Kate nods, the movement tense and small.

Kate clears her throat and takes a step back, not remembering when they had gotten so close. Her socked feet shuffle for a moment, and she stares down at them, counting the puppies decorating her toes to help calm herself before she looks back up and steadies the smile back onto her face.

“Okie dokie then, uh, righto!”

RIGHTO? Girl what the fuck?!

Older Kate giggles at the same time that Kate cringes outwardly, a flush on both their cheeks.

“Okay! Moving on!” Kate is quick to clap her hands and whirl back around to face her girlfriend, who is looking equal parts amused and concerned, and the strange feeling in her stomach finally fades as she creates some distance between herself and… herself.

“Let me guess- macaroni?” Yelena says softly, a kind smile on her beautiful face as she continues to tidy up the apartment and pick up all the dog toys that had someone become a mess even with the animals themselves with Clint for the week.

Something in Kate’s chest eases at the suggestion, and she nods eagerly, turning back to Older Kate to see her reaction. The other archer is smiling weakly, her eyes still a little dazed but overall looking more grounded. “That would be amazing, thank you.”

They work quickly after that, Yelena making Older Kate rest on the couch as Kate starts the water pot boiling on the stove. Yelena takes over quickly from there, not trusting the archer to even properly boil water, but Kate can’t even fight her on that point, because it’s valid and founded on truth.

She instead does her part by wrapping her lithe arms around Yelena’s waist carefully, enjoying the catch in her girlfriend’s breath as she rests her cheek on the back of her neck, her breath warm and gently ruffling the golden baby hairs on her nape. “This okay?” Kate asks quietly, swaying slowly.

“Yes, this is more than okay,” is Yelena’s gentle response, her cheeks blazing and eyes focused on the noodles in front of her. This relationship was still rather new to them, and understandably, the assassin wasn’t exactly used to touches that were gentle and loving opposed to the harsh beating a baton could bring.

Kate hums softly and nuzzles into the warm skin of Yelena’s neck, content to be close and enjoy the quiet after the turbulence of the past 24 hours.

Not even a few moments later, there are soft footsteps from behind them, and Older Kate is suddenly there, her warmth on Kate’s back and her palms on the archer’s hands where they rest tentatively on Yelena’s stomach. “If you really wanna see her blush,” Older Kate murmurs gently, her breath hot on both Kate and Yelena’s cheeks, “then you gotta just, kinda…”

She’s gentle as she maneuvers Kate’s hands a little lower down the assassin’s abdomen, settling them just a little under where her belly button is. She curls Kate’s fingers down so that the archer is effectively pressing her hands into the soft tissue of Yelena’s gut, and the noise that sounds in her girlfriend’s throat makes her nearly dizzy.

They’re both stock-still as Older Kate finishes maneuvering her younger self, and Kate is so transfixed by the warm body pressed so close behind her that she doesn’t think to move her hands away from where they’ve been placed in the scenario that Yelena is made uncomfortable by it. Except, hadn’t Older Kate said… what was it? Really make her blush?

Kate comes back into herself just enough to peer at her girlfriend, and the blush coating Yelena’s face is bright and hot enough to radiate from her skin. A sense of cocky self-satisfaction settles into her chest, but it’s quickly replaced with her own flustered bewilderment when Older Kate ghosts a gentle hand over the right side of Yelena’s neck. Her eyes are focused for the first time since they got back to the apartment, and she carefully watches Yelena’s face as if trying to gauge her reactions as her touch moves over her skin. “And, if you…”

Kate watches silently, her eyes wide, lips parted, and that strange feeling bubbling back up in her stomach as Older Kate reaches a spot on the junction on Yelena’s neck and shoulder that makes the blonde stiffen even further, her lips quivering. That makes Older Kate smile almost wolfishly, and it feels like an out-of-body experience when the archer gently rests her palm on the back of Kate’s head to guide her closer to the assassin’s neck.

“See that cute little freckle right there?”

Kate nods almost numbly, every ounce of control focused on not melting under the older woman’s touch, even though it’s not even directed at her. She sees what she’s talking about- a small freckle that graces Yelena’s skin above the edge of her clavicle, one of many.

“If you kiss right there, she’ll react so nicely.” The older archer’s voice is almost a low rumble, her tone holding a teasing quality that makes both Kate and Yelena weak in the knees. Yelena, because she was not used to any version of Kate Bishop talking even in her general direction like that, and Kate, because- because…?

”How do you…?” Kate starts, but she stops herself quickly, already knowing the answer to her unfinished question. Of course this Older Kate would know what made Yelena tick- she had been dating the assassin much longer than her younger self at her own point in time.

Older Kate says nothing, but her eyes are imploring, and because it’s her own gaze staring right back at her, Kate knows exactly what she’s silently telling her.

“Yelena…?” she whispers softly, her lips pressed to the assassin’s ear. The woman is still trembling slightly, heat coursing through her body from the overwhelming sensation of two fucking Kate Bishops. Right there. Pressed up against her. Oh my fucking god.

“It's okay,” she responds back, her voice tight and embarrassingly high pitched. “You can.”

Older Kate’s hand is still resting on the back of Kate’s head, whether she even realizes it or not, and it’s doing weird things to her body. She takes a moment to just breathe before carefully pressing her lips to Yelena’s neck, right over the blemish on her skin, and the blonde’s reaction is instantaneous.

Her head tips back slightly, her bottom lip pressed sharply between her teeth and her eyes fluttered shut. Kate is emboldened, kissing a little harder, and she likely would’ve kept going had the pot not chosen that exact moment to boil over and splatter scalding water over the stove.

All three of them yelp and jump back, and while Yelena distracts herself from the heat in her stomach by tutting and taking care of the mess, Older Kate seems to fully realize how close she had been to the two women who actually belonged in this reality, and she heads back to the couch, shaking out her hand with burning cheeks. Kate watches her go with a slack jaw and dazed eyes, unsure of what to do about the thoughts swirling in the base of her skull.

< Prev — Next >

[tempting-andromeda]

Can I please have headcannons for Sadie with fem s/o who is secretly in love with Sadie. She wants to confess her feelings but is scared of how she might react. Fem reader drops little hints here and there and eventually confesses one night at camp when everyone is asleep and they are the only ones awake. I would love to see how Sadie and fem reader deal with being secret lovers in 1899 since it wasn’t smiled upon back then and very dangerous to be lesbian/gay/bi, etc and i would love to see how they are out, open and free with the other camp members and how they are comfortably out to John Abigail Jack uncle and Charles post RDR2. And please do a little fast forward to after the events of the game when John Charles and sadie k*ll Micah and sadie is happily settled down with fem reader and their poodle dog! Just living a quiet happy wholesome life where sadie works as a bounty hunter and comes home to fem reader cooking a delicious meal sorta life. Cozy, warm vibes and a happily ever after together forever 💖💖💖💖💖 sorry if this is cheesy and cliche I just love this little idea I have in my head of Sadie happily married to her fem s/o (low key of course because it was illegal to be LGBT in the 1800s and I would love to see how Sadie and fem reader navigate their life before and after the events of the game) !! Love your blog! 🥰✨✨✨

Sadie Adler

I think it would genuinely take sadie a bit to get back into a relationship

She’s traumatized and she just lost jake and so she doesn’t even realize you were dropping hints

You two get close and there’s this lingering emotion but she purposefully ignores it

It takes until like a month or so for her to finally acknowledge it and at first she doesn’t want to be in a relationship

Super against it because she’s a mess

When you confess she somehow rejects you but returns the feelings at the same time

Takes everything at a slow pace

It’s not like internationalized homophobia or anything…homegirl had like the worst experience ever a few months back

Likes to hold your hand

It’s such a tender thing

Separating your finger and bending them slowly while you both lay on your sides facing one another while you try to sleep

A very complicated “we’re not dating but we are”

Likes standing around you just to have your company but sometimes she just looks like a body guard with her arms crossed

Kisses your finger tips

Idk I just think she wouldn’t be ready for actual kisses so she works her way up

Everyone knows you two are somewhat a thing because even if you both wanted to hide it Sadie will practically growl at anyone who stares too long

Likes to go off with you and doesn’t tell you what you’re doing

Give you a quick “come on” and doesn’t answer any questions

Thinks anything can be a surprise if she wanted to to be

She wants to go to the gunsmith to get a new rifle? She’s gonna take you and act like she has the most romantic date planned

After the events of rdr2 she’s healed a lot more

She wasn’t on her own for like…8 years so she’s definitely grown

More into physical touch

Loves coming behind you and grabbing your waist while she nuzzles into your neck and kisses it

She’s a cheeky bastard

How can she do anything wrong she’s just a girl with a gun

Tells you all about her bounties and sometimes if you get her too into it she’ll recreate some moments

Jumping up out of bed to act out slashing a guys neck and getting blood on her

She’s so dramatic and she’s giving you a lopsided grin

Picked the poodle up as an apology for getting stabbed when she hunted down Micah with John

She saw how Abigail reacted with John and she didn’t want to be in the dog house

Always insists a meal needs more seasoning no matter how much you add

It either needs more salt or pepper

She’s real hesitant about pda and to other people y’all have an elaborate story about how both of your husbands died and you’re widowers together

Just besties

She has horrible jealousy isssues

She’s not worried you’d cheat

She just possessive

Tried to invite John and Abigail over for dinner frequently but after the first time she couldn’t do it again

Had to protect her peace

And she got tired of everyone mid way and didn’t know how to tell anyone she just wanted to nap with her wife

Whenever y’all do hang out with the marstons she somehow gets kicked out of the wife circle and is forced to Interact with John

She has fun but John is just so much to deal with

She’s absolutely shit at cooking

She can cook meat but anything else?

She complains if you try to get her to cook

If you do make her cook or you can’t she just goes into town and buys something that’s easy or already made

Likes to join you in the kitchen when you cook though

She’ll stand behind you with her hands on your hips telling you to cut the potatoes bigger or smaller

Whenever it’s just you two or any of your friends she loves to call you her wife

Smiles all goofy and everything

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

DAMN CAP YOU COOKED THIS IS MASSIVE!! SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 72 OF PN BELOW BEWEAR!!

OHH SHE TOOK THE EARINGS WITH HER STEALING THEM ok i’m a fool right this makes sense. 

Girl. girl please. “You gotta trust me marinette I’m the only one you can trust” YOU WERE TRYING TO SCAM HER 

Love Fei, the dichotomy of man is so real with her

Damn brother what an intro, and then we snap back to Juleka pretending she is Batman. I hope she is at least enjoying running around on the rooftops she wanted to chapters ago

I genuinely can’t tell if girly has a concussion or not. I am one to be tricked by the narrator so since she’s saying she doesn’t i’m like “Oh ok, i trust you”

Aww cute Alya and Juleka friending it up real style, I like how Alya was begging panthera to find marinette, so real of her. 

Juleka: dont worry i actually do this super often

Alya: be concussed on a rooftop?

HA-

Yooo super soulmate tracking activated??

I still find the fact that Marinette said that they “speedran dating” to be hilarious

Fei panicking like this is her first sleepover is so silly style

AUGH NO MARINETTE IS NOT THE PERSON TO ADMIT YOU WANT TO KILL SOMEONE TO

Like i love girly but damn Fei you did not choose the right person to admit murderous intent to

Like maybe this is good for Fei to be told “hey girl that’s a bit far” but like let the girl get her emotions off her chest before invalidating them LB damn

Cash, my brother, fuck off. Fei, kick him in the balls, I command thee. 

She was being emotionally vulnerable! Let her have her moment! 

Damn brother, Cash really just hit Marinette with the fact that good people can do bad things for reasons they see as good, this will literally break her good people meter.

Panthera where be you

Ricky, ricky when I catch you ricky (me about Cash)

YES GIRL (marinette said screw you, i’m hype)

Oop- Marinette is fighting back, and now she pointed out the obvious (to us, not to Fei) 

Damn brother plot twist (which I forgor) 

Oh dear oh dear oh dear, poor Fei. Girly it’s ok he took advantage of you in a vulnerable state that’s not your fault augh I feel awful for her

NOOO HAWKCOCK RETURNS BAD TIMING FUCK OFF

Help “what’d her glove do?” his hysterical

She pointed at the little akuma resting on her finger, “Are you gonna eat that?”

“Obviously not! Are you- oh you are. Okay.” ok so. Can marinette eat akumas to purify them?

Hey did Fei just get a real concussion?? Exciting

Who are these random lesbians in my father’s ancient duty cave? I ACTUALLY LOST IT

Oh damn the prodigious have shown up this chapter! Nice. 

NAH NOT HAWKMOTH HAVING PTSD FROM PANTHERA HAAA

Sorry not many comments on this bit i’m too into it to write

Realest reaction to gaining super powers

Wha da hell the renlings are mad. I do not remember them from the shanghai special i just remembered big lion guy

Damn motherfucker this shit bangs

Fei having the time of her life is very fun, it’s also been rather novel to have so much not-Juleka POV lately! Though that tracks with how much you like Fei!

I do wonder if you’re going to have her show up outside of this arc or naw, I guess i shall wait and see >:3

Could these lesbians please focus? HELP FEI STOP BEING SILLY

Damn nobody wants her to kill Cash. except me, Kill him Fei. I demand thee. 

I mean i think it would permanently scar her, but yknow, character building gotta come from somewhere buddy

Goddamn!! That rocked. Fei kicked his ass, hell yeah. Glad she didn’t kill him though (shush i have layers)

Help the awkward after battle chat with Hawkmoth what is this

FEI HAS A POINT THIS IS WEIRD AS SHIT

Backstory?? For Cash?? Ohhhh its that fucker. Cash is the guy who- oh ok it’s all coming together

HELP THE CHAOS

YOOO LION AKUMA HELLLL YEAH

I’ve always thought his akuma was sick as fuck

HAWKMOTH DIED/??

HELP SO MUCH IS HAPPENING ROSE CALLED AND- GTVNBUREFI

Ok so my suspicion that Adrien will find out has dimmed, but the embers are still there. Maybe he’ll be vaporized. 

Yeah maybe now isn’t the time for impromptu therapy ladies

Hell yeah, Panthera for the emotional intelligence win you go girl

Oh no it went wrong, Fei running away from your problems doesn’t work this is an awful time to do that!

No because Fei literally challenges Marinnettes ideals of a good person, her black and white way of thinking about things has been a (interesting!) source of conflict throughout this but i don’t believe she has ever disagreed with someone in this way that she actually likes. Idk if this makes sense, basically what I’m saying is this could be an interesting way to develop her black and white view on good and evil

I have feelings about it all ok??

“I can’t think about this” YES YOU CAN LB

I’m curious when Juleka will use that power again, also what is it called?

HELP NO i am actually out of breath from how much i laughed at Juleka picking up the phone for Rose WHILE CLIMBING WHATS HIM NAME SHADOW OF THE COLLOSUS STYLE 

GIRL. HAVE SOME PRIORITIES. 

WAIT IWIAIT WIH3W

WHAY

WITA

JULEKA CALLED HER SUNBEAM? ISN’T THAT WHAT SHE CALLED ROSE AS PANTHERA OR AM I GOING INSANE

WAIT. ROSE HAS A CLUE NOW? I’M GOING INSANE CAP

CAP PLEASE

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THE ROSE-JULEKA REVEAL FOR YEARS

WHEN. 

Sorry i went mad

In my head when LB was flung off the big guy she pinwheeled through the air silly style

Is. is fei just flying about crying? “A mournful cry” and “red and gold streaked above them” like. As a bird i think that counts as flying about for the fuck of it and sobbing it up real style

It has been. A week maybe more. Sorry got distracted read 1.4 mill for another work got way too invested, we are so back though

And back to Fei’s POV epic crying girl montage qued

“And it was all her fault” girl please, there is a dickhead called HM and I think it’s more his fualt than yours, get over yourself

The renlings are so cool, the dialogue you had them do was mega cool cap

Dragon renling is bad ass, personally i would name them. He is now dubbed; Daniel.

Damn move over Juleka, there’s a new therapist in down, his name is Daniel the Dragon

Oh thank fuck, when Daniel said forgive i was like bitch Cash doesn’t deserve that, but forgiving herself makes so much sense. 

Not Panthera offering to fix her makeup- Juleka is so sweet girl

“We’ve got your back, Fei.” Ladybug exclaimed, “L-Like; If you need a plan, I’ve got one. I’ve got a great plan. I just need a GIANT jug- this made me lose it. What the fuck LB what would a giant jug do pray tell

YEAH DRAGON TIME

Sorry, that piece about her dad was lovely and it was awesome to read, it swept me up so i just ended up saying dragon time

Hm how does the dragon speak if it doesn’t have lips (in my head) 

No because ack what is this plan that involves a giant vase. Panthera you go girl don’t let her get eaten by another akuma, the dinosaur was enough. What will they do for Feast if not be eaten though that is the real question

Ya girly Fei just kicked kaiju ass in under 5 minutes because their timers were going off so, current MVP of the series; Fei, followed by Juleka for her metallica moment

Aww Mei Shi is adorable

He's so nice help

WHERE DID HE GO

Also wonderful break POV, that was a good line

Get his ass gang, cash is a dick

MEI SHI IS ADORABLE YAYAY AND SMALL

Fei has like 13 friends now. Is there 12 renlings or no i can’t remember

“Ooh sounds yummy.”

“You sounded a lot more professional as a robot guardian guy.”

“I was. Now I’m small and terrible.”

“Joy.” I LOVES HIM SO MUCH HE IS SO BABY!!! If only they returned to Paris with LB and Panthera, he could be friends with plagg.

Juleka now has a favor… 

Oh yeah plagg realised he could leave the ring while Juleka is transformed. That feels like an important detail. 

“OH MY GOD I HAVE PARENTS.” i love marinette. I loved this whole interaction actually, “water under the bridge, forced under the bridge” and all that was really funny

Also the fact that Adrien didn’t know your not allowed to sleep with a concussion has me concerned. 

Oh yay!! Juleka and Fei ‘therapy’ session

“That’s our everyday Ladybug!”

“AHA. YEAH. THAT SAYING. LANKS ADRIEN. I MEAN THANKS LADRIEN. THANKS. ADRIEN. AHAH.” realest reaction to that

The ending was very cosy, lots of fun :3

Finito!!!!!!! Amazing chapter Cap, ten out of ten, no a hundred out of ten is more fitting. I look forward to what comes next >:3

DANIEL I’m wheezing

I’m so glad you enjoyed bud! I’m gonna try and keep Fei in her lane for the rest of the fic or else my favoritism will show.

as for Panthera’s “special mode”, that’s called Mass Obliteration!

Plagg leaving the ring while Panthera is transformed is a marker on how much experience she’s had being Panthera.

When characters are transformed, they absorb that Kwami’s power to wear the suit. Then they expend a lots of that magic to use their powers and if they’re young and haven’t used that miraculous much- or don’t have lots of magic in general- then that magic is pretty much depleted to nothing once that power is used and their battery runs out after five minutes.

The Kwami is like the power source to the holder’s battery/charge, with the miraculous being the chord between them. Usually you need them “plugged in” aka in the miraculous at all time when the holder is transformed. However! Panthera’s gotten so used to Plagg’s essence that even if he leaves the ring for a bit, she can stay transformed as she has a bit of his magic to naturally spare. I hope that makes sense I’m babbling. Thank you to my buddy @ghostatjoes for that lore.

The base was in the original Shanghai episode. Ladybug’s plan was to get vored and break the akuma from the inside. It had organs. Mei Shi had organs. I was so disturbed, I didn’t wanna write that— and also I felt like Ladybug overhauling Fei’s fight was wrong. That was HER villain yknow. Wanted Fei to finish it all by herself.

I’m glad you enjoyed! This was def one of my favorite chapters ever to write. I think the size is an obvious indicator. I hope you guys enjoy Season 3! It’s coming I swear. I’m just writing a fun chapter before I drag you all into my hole of hell that I’ve been stewing over for years.

[firstkanaphans]

a prompt, if you're in the mood...

(obviously please please ignore if not!)

Ray figures out that Sand has been 'taking care' of him in the bedroom this whole time. he decides to even things out a little.

(peace and good vibes, happy almost-only-friends-day to you) 🖤

I had so much fun with this, you have no idea 💕 Thank you for the request!

Read on AO3

“I am not a pillow princess!” Cheum cried. She was adorably drunk, her cheeks rosy, and she was leaning on her girlfriend’s shoulder, staring up at her like she hung the moon.

“I love you, babe,” April said with a snort. “But you are.”

“I am not!” Cheum whined. Then she stopped to think about it and dissolved into giggles. “Okay, maybe I am. But just a little bit!” She held her fingers up only a millimeter apart to demonstrate how little of a pillow princess she actually was and April plucked her hand out of the air.

“Do you see these?” April said, brandishing Cheum’s inch-long nails towards Ray as proof. They were filed to sharp points. “Would you want these talons inside of you?”

Ray winced at the mental image. He was unsure how he had gotten involved in this conversation in the first place. It was apparently his punishment for going to a gay bar alone with two lesbians since they were the only ones willing to drink with him.

“No?” he tried. It seemed like the correct answer.

“Thank you!” April crowed, vindicated, and then returned Cheum’s hand to her.

“My mouth works just fine, thank you very much,” Cheum said, cradling her manicured hand to her chest. “And you like my nails!”

“I do like your nails,” April agreed with a grin. Cheum scrunched her nose in delight and then pulled April in for a hug. Ray was still trying to figure out what the hell they were talking about.

“So, a pillow princess is a…?” he said, struggling with the context clues while three beers deep.

“She’s a bottom,” April said, putting it into terms he might understand. “She likes to just lay there and let me do all the work.”

Cheum smacked per playfully. “Don’t listen to her, Ray. She’s lying!”

Ray thought back to the night before when Sand had dropped down to his knees in the bathroom of P’Yo’s bar to suck Ray’s dick. Or a few days before that when he had spread Ray out on his bed and fucked him to three separate orgasms before coming himself. He thought about how even despite their economic differences, Sand was always the one taking care of him, offering him food and music and time. He was starting to worry it might be a pattern.

It wasn’t that Ray never returned the favor. He could suck dick with the best of them and he was a very interactive bottom, thank you very much. But sometimes, yes, he liked to just lay there and let himself be worshiped. What was so wrong with that? Horror washed over him.

“Oh my god. I think I’m a pillow princess.”

Cheum tilted her head and examined him carefully. “I can see that.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” April insisted even though she had just spent the past ten minutes teasing her girlfriend for it. “I like being the one that gets to take care of her.”

That made Ray feel better for all of ten seconds before Cheum butted in. “But you can’t just lay there all the time,” she snapped, clearly aware that moderation was not a concept Ray had ever had a firm grasp of. “You have to give some too. You’re giving some too—right, Ray?”

Ray downed the rest of his beer and stood up from the table. He was in desperate need of another.

Unfortunately, Ray couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d had a lot of sex in his life—a lot of good sex. Or at least he had thought. But after one conversation with Cheum, suddenly he was questioning everything.

Was Sand happy with him—like, sexually? Because sex, alcoholism, and the occasional car ride home were pretty much the only things he was bringing to the table. If Sand left…Ray shuttered to even think about it. Sand was the one bright spot in his life right now; he couldn’t lose him. It would kill him. So, the next time Sand found his way into Ray’s bedroom, Ray was determined to prove his worth.

They crashed through the door kissing wildly, a trail of discarded clothes in their wake, and as soon as they reached the bed, Ray pushed Sand down onto the mattress. Hard.

Sand sat, bouncing with the impact, and laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” Ray lied. “I just want to take care of you.”

And then he dropped to his knees.

It occurred to him belatedly that he had never given a blow job quite like this before. Usually he was horizontal on a bed with a comfortable mattress beneath his knees, but now, staring up at Sand, who was staring down at him, he felt small. He swallowed hard.

“By all means,” Sand said, spreading his legs wide. "Go right ahead."

Ray let out the breath he had been holding and then reached for Sand’s belt. Sand lifted his hips to allow Ray to remove his pants, but otherwise, he didn’t offer to help. Instead, he watched Ray work with the fascination of a predator hunting prey. It was almost as if he couldn’t believe Ray was actually doing this. Until he took Sand into his mouth.

Sand moaned at the first brush of Ray’s tongue against him, but he didn’t lose himself to the pleasure the way Ray always did. Whenever Sand sucked him off, Ray’s eyes would roll back in his head, he would collapse down onto the sheets, and he would, well, just lay there. Exactly like Cheum had accused him of. But Sand didn’t do that. Instead, he watched Ray with an intensity that made his whole body feel like it had been set on fire. Ray reveled in the warmth. In the attention. He always did.

He swallowed Sand down as deep as he could, allowing himself to gag a bit because the one time he’d done that by accident, Sand had come almost immediately. Sand was on to him this time, though. His eyes darkened at the sound, but then he reached out, tangled his fingers gently in Ray’s hair, and began moving his head slower. Ray found that he liked being told what to do.

He worked up a rhythm, sucking Sand exactly how he was instructed—slow and messy, using his hand to stroke what he couldn’t comfortably fit in his mouth—and the whole time he watched Sand from beneath his eyelashes, hoping that he looked the spitting image of the selfless partner he was trying to be. But the unnerving thing was that Sand was watching him right back. And he looked hungry.

It was a look Ray usually only saw when Sand was inside of him and it broke his resolve. It made him want. He pulled off of Sand’s dick with an audible pop, pushed him down on the bed, and then crawled on top of him, kissing him deeply as if that might help expel some of the tension building inside of him. Sand kissed him back, but despite the fact that he was the one who had just gotten his dick sucked—quite well, Ray might add—he wasn’t yet as far gone as Ray was. He was still in control. He began stripping Ray of his clothes as Ray stripped Sand of his and soon, they were both naked, pressed skin against skin.

Sand reached for Ray’s lube—they had done this enough times now for him to know where it was kept—but before he could uncap it, Ray plucked the bottle from his hand.

“I told you already,” he said, pushing Sand back against the mattress and pinning his wrists to the bed. “Tonight, I’m taking care of you.”

To his surprise, Sand actually stayed where he put him. His cheeks were flushed at the novelty of being told what to do and it made Ray preen. Maybe he was actually doing this right. Once satisfied that he had no plans to move, Ray slicked up his own fingers with lube and reached around to open himself up. Sand’s fists were clenched tight in the sheets as if it pained him not to touch.

“You’re torturing me,” Sand corrected.

Ray shushed him and then kissed his lips and that seemed to calm Sand a bit.

It didn’t take long for Ray to stretch himself open. When Sand did it, he liked to take his time, liked to make Ray squirm, liked to make sure Ray wouldn’t feel even an ounce of pain. But Ray didn’t mind pain. He liked when he could feel it. So he grabbed a condom, rolled it onto Sand’s dick, already wet with saliva and precome, and then straddled him.

“Wait,” Sand said, stopping him. Ray stopped with a pout that Sand sat up and kissed from his lips.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing!” Ray argued, but Sand paid him no mind. Instead, he reached behind Ray and slipped two fingers inside of him. Ray moaned, pressing back against his hand and pushing the fingers further inside.

“What are you doing?” Ray whined. “Do you not trust me?”

“You’re not acting like yourself,” Sand said sheepishly. “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“I am too acting like myself!” Ray said, pushing Sand back down onto the mattress a little harder than was strictly necessary.

“That’s the Ray, I know,” Sand said, laughing, but he was looking up at Ray with eyes so fond, Ray wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. So instead of trying to figure it out, he leaned forward and kissed him, reaching down at the same time to push Sand inside of him.

Ray moaned against Sand’s lips as he entered him and then sat back up, forcing him in deeper. And, just like always, Ray was taken aback at just how perfectly they fit together. Ray had had sex with a lot of men—more men, quite frankly, than he probably even remembered—but Sand was the first person who had ever been able to fill him so completely. It was as if their bodies had been made for each other.

Ray closed his eyes and rolled his hips just slightly, getting a feel for Sand inside of him, and he heard Sand’s sharp intake of breath as if the movement had surprised him. He had ridden Sand before, but even then, Sand had been doing most of the work. To be on top of him, in complete control of both of their pleasure…it was intoxicating.

He placed a hand over Sand’s heart to anchor himself and then slowly, he began to ride. He lifted up on his knees and then pushed back down and when he opened his eyes to look at Sand, he was biting his lip so hard he looked liable to draw blood.

“Too slow?” Ray teased, giving another half-hearted roll of his hips.

Sand growled and snapped his hips up, sending a shockwave of electricity through Ray. He shivered at how good it felt and he hated to stop him, but he had to. That’s not the game they were playing tonight. He pulled off of Sand completely.

“I told you,” he said as Sand whined. “I’m taking care of you tonight.”

Sand rolled his eyes. “Then you need to go faster.”

“Fine,” Ray said, once again pinning Sand’s hand back to the mattress next to his head. “But you have to behave.” The look Sand gave him then made it clear that behaving was the last thing on his mind, but when Ray let him go, he dutifully kept his arms pinned. “Good boy.”

He situated Sand at his entrance and then bore down, taking in just the tip at first—a small punishment for Sand’s insolence—before sitting all the way down. Sand moaned, but his gaze never wavered. He stared at Ray the whole time, his eyes dark and hungry. And for his obedience, Ray rewarded him, moving just the way he knew Sand liked: hard and fast with his body on full display.

Sand reached for him again without otherwise moving and this time, Ray let him. He let Sand touch his body, let him scratch gently across his nipples, but when he reached for Ray’s dick, Ray stopped him. Today wasn’t about him. Sand grumbled at the correction, but he knew better than to argue after what it had gotten him last time, so he settled for just laying there with his hands on Ray’s hips, watching.

Ray made sure he was a sight to behold. He rolled his hips sensually, letting his dick bounce up and down with each thrust, and every so often, he would whisper Sand’s name because everytime he did, he could feel Sand’s dick twitch inside of him.

Soon, Sand’s fingernails were digging scars into Ray’s hips and Ray could tell he was getting close. He leaned forward, changing the angle, and kissed Sand on the lips. Sand immediately wrapped his arms around him tight, holding him in place, and kissed him harder. But Ray could tell it wasn’t enough. He could tell that Sand wanted more. And since today was all about pleasing Sand, he was inclined to give him what he wanted.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Ray asked against his lips.

Sand whined. “Yes. Please.”

“How badly do you want to fuck me?”

“Ray,” Sand scolded.

Ray smirked and then paused, making Sand wait for the answer. “Then go ahead.”

Immediately, Sand flipped them and began thrusting into Ray hard. Ray couldn’t help it—he cried out at how good it felt. At how well Sand knew his body. At how well he could walk that line between pleasure and pain.

“Faster,” Ray begged and Sand did as he was commanded. Ray just lay there and took it like the pillow princess that he was, but Sand didn’t seem to mind. He kept fucking him, his mouth latched onto Ray’s neck, and he was panting with exertion, but there was a softness to his touch. Ray could tell that he wasn’t ready for it to end. But when Sand reached for Ray’s dick, Ray stopped him.

“You first,” he said. It was the least he could do. If Sand came first, maybe then his mission wouldn’t be a complete failure. Maybe then he could still hold his head high knowing he had been the cause of his pleasure at least once.

Sand grumbled, displeased with the idea, but he wasn’t the type to play games—in bed or otherwise—so he gave Ray what he wanted. He thrust into him one last time and then came with a grunt. And because Ray was right there on the edge of orgasm himself—too impatient to wait for Sand to recover, too starved to waste the opportunity to come while Sand was still inside of him—he reached between them and began stroking himself. Within seconds, he came as well, his body clenching around Sand’s.

They lay there tangled together, still connected, for several minutes before Sand finally pulled out of him. Once he did, Ray took it upon himself to get up and grab rags to clean them with. Sand seemed surprised by the gesture. He watched Ray all the way to the bathroom. Surely Ray had done this for him before, right? Surely.

He made Sand lay still as he ran the warm rag over his body, cleaning him meticulously. Sand watched him the whole time. Only once Ray had disposed of the rag and crawled back into bed with him, tucking his smaller body beneath Sand’s arm, did he speak.

“What are you pouting about?” Sand teased. “That was some of my best work.”

“I’m not pouting,” Ray argued. After an orgasm that good, pouting would be impossible. But he was a bit dejected. “I just wanted to make you feel as good as you always make me feel.”

Sand laughed, but then broke off when he realized Ray wasn’t joking. “You’re serious? Ray, are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?” Ray asked, legitimately confused.

Sand sighed and propped himself up on his elbow so that he was hovering over Ray. “You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had,” he said, pushing Ray playfully. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Ray preened. “Really?”

Sand rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying it again,” he said, plopping back down onto the mattress. “Now, speak. What’s gotten into you?”

Although the truth was embarrassing, it seemed rude to hide it when it was causing Sand to worry. “It was brought to my attention that I might have been a bit selfish in bed.”

“Brought to your attention by who?” Sand snorted. “Your other lovers?”

“By Cheum.”

Sand shook his head, looking on the verge of laughter. “Ray, I like that you’re a spoiled brat in bed.”

Ray blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“We’ve been fucking almost every day for months. Did you really think I wasn’t enjoying it?”

Before Sand, Ray had had a lot of sex he didn’t particularly enjoy just to feel close to someone. He didn’t bother mentioning that to Sand. He found it touching that Sand enjoyed him, spoiled brat and all.

“So I’m not a pillow princess?”

“Oh, you’re a pillow princess, alright,” Sand said. Ray smacked him with a pillow and Sand laughed, emerging from the other side with his hair mussed, his cheeks pink, his eyes shining with mirth. “But you’re my pillow princess,” he added, pulling Ray down into a kiss.

Ray tried to feign anger, but it was impossible while staring at Sand’s megawatt smile. Instead, he broke down in a fit of giggles and collapsed into Sand’s side. Although the evening hadn’t gone quite as planned, he fell asleep that night with that knowledge that he was enough, just as he was, and he felt no shame for it. There were benefits to being royalty, after all.

[fearfics]

pretty name.

althea szewczyk-przygocki x fem!reader

in which the reader calls al ‘althea’ and it drives her little lesbian brain crazy

a/n: if there’s any typos or missing or extra words…shhh no there’s not…i also don’t know how to end things like this i don’t usually write so bear with me lol

al had a bit of a hard exterior and could be quite intimidating at times. although, whenever she was around you, the wall would come down simply at the sound of your voice. of course, being around you or talking to you made her feel this way but specifically, it was the way you spoke her name. althea. she told everybody to call her ‘al’ but you never did. you consistently called her by her full name and it drove her absolutely mad.

—

today felt worse compared to the hurricane that had passed through two days prior. you were trapped in the middle of the scorching heat with june and al. you’ve run out of diesel and water which left you stranded and dehydrated.

the muffled voice you’d heard on the walkie gave june hope. she knew the three of you had to get moving and she couldn’t handle being separated from john. when she suggested moving to higher ground to get a better range to, hopefully, receive the signal again, you thought it seemed like a good idea and presumed al did as well but her tone of voice seemed to say otherwise.

“did you kill the camera?” al asked with a grimace on her face.

june shifted her gaze to al, arm hanging off the pole on the roof of the van. “i killed the battery.”

al turned towards the safe, arm reaching out and beginning to undo the lock. “watching that tape?”

you glanced at june, sending her an sympathetic smile. everybody knew how al was about her camera and those tapes. she returned the smile quickly before looking away and sighing.

“watching that tape.” the two women stared at each other.

you were stuck in between but you understood where they both were coming from. june missed john. she wanted to get back to him as soon as possible. al needed her video camera to be able to capture our story. it was important to her. especially, now that you’re all stuck here, she needed something to document. you’d hoped you could reason with the both of them.

before you could say anything, al placed her camera into the safe, locking it back up. she slowly sat down with her hand on her forehead, something suddenly coming over her. worry washed over both yours and june’s faces.

your wary eyes focused on al’s face as you placed a gentle hand on her knee, ”althea, are you okay?”

al’s face flushed at the sound of your concerned voice, silently thanking whoever above for the heat and the sickness that fell upon her, disguising her flushed cheeks. she wouldn’t live it down if she was caught blushing. especially, because of you.

—

everybody worked diligently as they brought the pieces of the plane back to the gas station. if you were going to make it out of there, it had to be by flight but you were going to have to put it back together yourselves. after days of reconstruction and teamwork, the plane’s engine was ready to test.

“you ready?” al shouted as she tapped the engine. your lips grew into a grin, admiring how she looked when she was excited.

“ready!” luciana answered from beside you.

al climbed into the cockpit and started the engine. the hopeful whirs of it powering up soon turned into clunks and bangs. not good. you made eye contact with luciana before she shouted out, “get down!” everybody ducked to the ground as the propeller whipped over your heads. al jumped out of the plane and you all raced over to the broken pieces.

lifting your eyes up from the ground, you watched as al tore the hat from her head in frustration. your heart sunk at her outburst of emotion. reaching out your hand, you gently caressed her arm to reassure her. “it’s okay, althea. we took a risk. anything could have happened but it’s not your fault, all right?”

al turned her head to face you, glancing quickly at your hand that had made contact with her arm. you said it again. you keep saying it like that. caught off guard, al’s mind started to ease away from the stressful situation knowing you’re by her side. you always had that effect on her. she couldn’t help but wonder if you knew…

—

the group was sat around a fire for the night, ready to serve up dinner. you sat with al inside the back of the van, some medical supplies in hand as you attended to the wound on her forehead. you sat next to her, one of your knees nudged against hers.

“you know, althea,” you began, brushing her hair out of her eyes, “if you wanted to talk to me, you didn’t have to bang yourself up. a simple ‘hey, how are you?’ would have been fine.”

al chuckled, her tongue poking her cheek. the transparent flirting combined with her full name caused the butterflies in her stomach to stir from their slumber and made her heart skip a beat. you smiled as you dabbed the damp cloth on her cut, cleaning it out. you locked eyes with her before noticing a tinge of pink in her cheeks.

“why?” al asks, a wave of boldness passing through her yet her voice just above a soft whisper.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you pull your hands away from her face and place them in your lap, ”’why’ what?”

al cheeks became a slightly darker shade of pink as she looked at her lap. “you use my full name. you’re the only one who does that. i guess i just...wondered why?”

a soft oh escapes your lips, silence falling over the both of you.

al watches your face, the feeling of regret beginning to replace the butterflies. before she could dismiss her previous question, she notices your lips form into a soft smile, “i’ve never met anyone with that name before. it’s a pretty name…with a pretty owner, too,” you look down at your hands, a matching blush now forming on your own face, “i can’t just let it go unsaid.”

al froze. she thought this was it. she was going to die because a girl called her pretty. because you called her pretty. as if the sound of her name passing through your lips wasn’t enough, the reason why had her wanting to skip through an field of flowers, screaming at the sky “she thinks i’m pretty! she really thinks i’m pretty!” until her voice gave out.

“but, uh, i won’t call you that…if you don’t want me to.” your voice interrupted al’s thoughts.

“what? no! it’s…it’s fine! completely…100%…fine.” al let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and looked into your eyes, reassuring you. she loved hearing you say her name so much that if you stopped, she’d probably go insane without hearing it throughout her day. “i like it. the way you say it. it makes me feel...normal…it’s nice.”

you turned toward the medical kit to hide the smile on your face but you couldn’t ignore your heart fluttering. you reached for a band-aid, pulling apart the paper, revealing the sticky parts and applied it to her wound. your fingers smoothed down the edges before trailing down the side of her face. you glanced at her lips before refocusing on her brown eyes, the moonlight reflecting in them as it shines through the little windows around you. the image of placing a chaste kiss on her lips traveled through your thoughts several times since you guys had become closer. and you were right here. so close.

al seemed to read your mind, a teasing smirk appearing as she watched your eyes travel over her face, ”you know, if you want to kiss me, you could just ask.”

you moved backwards, gasping as a shy smile planted itself on your face at your flirtation being used against you.

“hey!” you landed a playful slap on her shoulder, bashfully shaking your head.

al thrived for times like these; the sound of your laugh echoing in her ears and your smile replaying in her mind. fighting for your life against the dead and the undead everyday makes moments like these worth becoming part of the story. your story.

al took in the sight of you so vulnerable in front of her. god, she would do anything for that smile to stay on your lips.

you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before picking up your mess. al watched as you packed up the bandages and began to stand up to put the kit back where it belonged. you put the kit back before turning around to face al once again. she looked up at you as you moved toward her. you ducked your head down towards her own, your hand landing on her shoulder with a gentler touch this time. you locked eyes before letting yours travel around her face again, the warmth between your bodies made you feel lightheaded yet cozy. al was counting down the seconds until her entire body exploded.

you closed your eyes and pressed your lips softly against her cheek, keeping them there for a moment before pulling away. al couldn’t pull her eyes away from you, like she was frozen in time. you chuckled, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and backing away.

“i’ll, uh, meet you out there, althea. don’t take too long. dinner will get cold.” you say, your smile not leaving your face as you exited the back of the van.

“oh… yeah…yeah…i’ll be right out.” al spoke up as you stepped off the last rung of the little stairs, watching you walk toward the rest of the group.

she let out a breath, closing her eyes and relaxing her shoulders while leaning against the wall of the van. replaying the moment in her mind, she let out a smile. she shakes her head before getting up to join the others. and you.

how was she going to survive?