#but they wouldn't have put that there in the end

[robo-writing]

Hello!! I came from your single mom one shot and I am in love with how you write Logan. Could we have a worst!Logan and wife!reader at a bar and he’s getting hit on relentlessly by a girl who won’t take the hint even though he has stated that he is happily married MULTIPLE TIMES and then reader comes in and rips the girl a new asshole and Logan likes it a little too much and practically drags her home to fuck because of how hot he got from her getting angry and defending him?

How very Beth Dutton of you op! The girl that stands in front of him flashes him a smile—pearly whites, black hair that reaches down to her back, topped off with a low-cut shirt and a pair of jeans that draw the eye of everyone behind the bar—everyone except him that is.

He knows what she wants from him before she can utter a single word, eyes shamelessly moving across his body with not a hint of subtlety. A few years earlier and it might've worked, she's cute enough. A vixen, all doe-eyed and determined, if he was a younger man she might've been his type. But that's all in the past; she's cute, Logan thinks to himself, but she's not his wife. His eyes don't move from where you're standing at the bar, barely giving the girl more than a passing glance as she speaks. "Hey there, mind if I keep you company?" He almost rolls his eyes, but he keeps himself in check in hopes that he can resolve this without any trouble.

"I do unfortunately," he says, flashing the pretty gold band around his finger as he takes another swig of his beer. His fingers play with the ring around his finger, smiling to himself like a love-struck fool when he remembers what it symbolizes. He'd hope that would be the end of it, but unfortunately for him, it is.

The gal's either too drunk or too pig-headed to get the hint, so instead of backing away she leans in real close, too damn close—close enough that it starts to draw your attention from across the bar.

Suddenly your interest isn't in your drink anymore, and before you can walk closer Logan puts his hands up, mouths out lemme handle this, before speaking up again. "Listen, I'm a taken man." He says with a sigh, giving her his full attention. It doesn't deter her in the slightest, a coy smile tugging on the ends of her lips. "That's a shame. Your wife know you're here?" "She does," he nods with a smile, "and she's right over there." He points right to you, where you raise your glass with a thin-lipped smile, sarcasm evident in your body language. He can tell you're in a good mood tonight because you haven't dragged the girl by the hair yet, and he'd rather not ruin the night because she can't take a hint. Surely, she'll leave—except she doesn't. No, she does the exact opposite; she looks back and sees you, laser-focused on the two of them, and with all the audacity in the world, she fucking smiles back. You almost shatter the damn glass in your hand. "Oh, that's alright," she whispers with a wink. "Lemme go talk to her." His eyebrow damn near reaches his hairline, looking at the young girl as if she's truly lost her damn mind. Normally he wouldn't give a damn if someone wants to catch their death, but he takes pity on her for the sole reason that he really doesn't want to get kicked out. "I don't think that's a good idea." "Don't worry," she says, and to put the icing on the cake she puts her hand on his chest, loops her fingers around his dog tags and tugs him down. "I can handle myself." With that one gesture he knows she's just sealed her fate. No, you can't, he wants to say, but she's already making her way across the bar where you stand, looking like hell itself. You know he doesn't have eyes for anyone else but you, but it doesn't matter—someone else touched what's yours, so you have to remind Logan where home is. He's not really sure if he should feel happy that his girl is so protective of him, or sad that he's about to get kicked out of his favorite bar. Logan sighs and puts his beer down, reaching into his pocket and dialing 9-1-1 just as the telltale sound of glass shattering echoes across the bar. It really is a shame—he liked this bar too. The only good thing that comes from tonight—minus the visual of you with blood across your face—is the jaw-dropping sex that ensues the moment the two of you get home, remnants of rage seeping through every touch as you drag him upstairs by the collar. He's more than happy to let you take the lead, content in being your personal scapegoat if it means he gets to see you bounce on his lap like a woman possessed.

Lips intertwined, clothes askew and hair tousled. The taste of iron—a split lip, he remembers—then moans into your mouth when he remembers how you got it. Is it wrong to say you look your most beautiful when you're mad? He doesn't give a shit if it is, especially if his punishment is your pussy gripping him like a vice. He likes you like this—jealous, protective—it's what drew him to you in the first place, how you bite down on what's your and refuse to let go. From the moment you saw him you staked your claim and he was more than happy to follow you for the ride. "You like it when she touched you?" You mutter, lips pressed against his as you ride him for all your worth. Sweat beads off his brow, eyes closed in bliss, he nods his head no but it's not enough—you want to hear him say it. You teeth dig into the skin of his shoulder, a delicious groan erupting from him as you repeat yourself. "Answer me Lo, did you fucking like it?" "No, no—" he gasps, hands wandering across your body. "Wasn't even looking at her, swear to god—" "And who were you looking at?" you ask, and the answer makes your walls flutter across his cock. He lets you hear him loud and clear, giving you a lop-sided grin as he thrusts up into you.

"You, sweetheart, only you." "Louder," you moan, scratching at the expanse of his back, encouraging him. He repeats himself, fucking into your gushing cunt, his words bringing you to a new high with every thrust. His words are long, drawn out, caught in his throat as he struggles between speaking and catching his breath. "Only got eyes for you baby—fuckin' christ—" He speaks long after you've stopped, so engrossed in pleasure you can barely hear anything beyond your ringing ears and the slap of your ass against his thighs. "All yours baby, all fuckin' yours."

[soundwavefucker69]

I don't share this often, but I am a trans man named Minty.

awhile after I got my legal name change, I asked my mom what she would have named me if I was a boy. she said Sebastian, and I groaned and complained that I should have asked before I got the name change, because I really DID like Sebastian now that it was occurring to me as a possible name and had ALWAYS liked Sebastian, even before my MCU days as a teenager. I had even considered it as an option but worried I'd end up looking like a weird fandom kid that had never let go of the MCU. if I had known that was the name my mother had picked for me, I would have had justification to choose it.

she asked me why I picked Minty then. i kinda paused in surprise because I thought it was obvious. and I was like. well. I wanted a name i felt like I could associate with childhood me.

after the first house we lived in was foreclosed on by the bank, we had to rent while my parents fixed their credit and swore never to get a fixer upper again. so we picked a nice house in our small town with only two real neighbors of note: an old lady, whose kids had forgotten about her, that lived way down the alley, around the point it turned from paved to dirt, the only house down there, who had a pomegranate tree in her ill-tended front yard, and a nice old lady next door that for some inexplicable reason had a miniature horse and a beautifully tended flower garden she had foolishly once planted mint in. she also had a very, very old fashioned rotary telephone. I mean the kind hardwired into the wall, of metal, with a speaker with a smooth wooden handle that sat neatly on top. not one of the plastic ones. the ones you see in old movies.

we loved these old ladies very much. the pomegranate lady was too old to keep up on her yard, so my brother and I would go with our dad to help weed whack and scrape up the dead leaves. we didn't offer too much, she was a proud sort, and couldn't pay us, but just enough to help out a little. and the mint in her flower garden lady loved it when we came by to say hi to her horse whose name I forget and loved to teach us how to garden.

she would send us home with mint. obviously. because when you have a mint infestation, well. it's pointless, but you gotta try anyway. and my mom would take that mint and make sun tea, just on the edge of not sweet enough, bc she was a bit of a crunchy mom, but not enough to reprimand me for sneaking a bit of sugar into my cup after to mix it up. (the sugar never dissolved right, especially after it was chilled, and i would always make a racket trying to get it to do so)

I told her I picked Minty because it ties me to my childhood. I didn't want to just cast it away. I wasn't Minty yet, but I also wouldn't be Minty without those days.

mom hasn't fully come around to me being trans. but she was quiet for a long, long time before she kind of whispered. I think I like Minty better than Sebastian. you should keep it.

my mom has always beat herself up over our childhood. she lacked a lot of stability in her upbringing and thought church was the way to go with my brother and I. unfortunately, she picked the wrong church. it was intensely traumatizing for us. we've had a lot of tough conversations about it. but I was able to tell her that day, you know Mom, I know you think you didn't do enough, but just know I'm not trans because you put me in a place where womanhood was miserable and I'm running from it. I don't remember much of the church, even though it consumed my life. what I do remember is my mother, the woman I may have complicated feelings towards, but have always admired and was always my standard for womanhood, being criticized by the other women for allowing me to read this book or that book and not bending or breaking under their rebukes for twenty years. I remember finding out as a twenty year old that I was the only "girl" in church that got the HPV vaccine, because you wanted to protect me, and not rely on chastity alone, like some sort of egotistical maniac who believed I'd always be your daughter, not a living breathing person that would make choices you didn't approve of as an adult, that shouldn't have to suffer for no reason from those choices. I remember you reading to my brother and I well into our teen years, using your acting talents that didn't blossom into the career you wanted to bring the characters in Peter and the Starcatchers to life. I remember listening to Lord of the Rings on cassette tape in the mini van, even though they said it was demonic when they found out. I remember the mom that let me be a tomboy. I remember the mom that would put on the Wind and the Willows on cassette from the library on rainy summer days and we'd listen to it and eat meatballs and spaghetti in the kitchen.

I told her, you're not a failure as a mother, and I didn't hate womanhood because of your example. it just didn't fit me. you made mistakes because you're human. I never thought of you as less than because you're a woman, and I didn't want to escape the cage you're thinking i wanted to escape.

my mom cried. I think that was the first time i made her cry and didn't feel bad about it.

anyways. not a soft memory, but it feels soft to me.

Tell me a soft memory

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Hi I love your fics and was hoping you’d like this request:)) I was thinking a fic with James x fem!reader where she’s a slytherin but not in the stereotypical way that James and the marauders typically see them as. She’s not cold hearted or prejudice, rather quite friendly and very artsy. I was thinking an enemies to lovers where James just generalizes her with the slytherin she doesn’t like so he’s not the kindest to her, but maybe she gets paired up for an assignment with Remus so James ends up having to be around her a bit and realizes she doesn’t suck lol. Think he would definitely have to work for her affection after fumbling the ball so hard but im a sucker for a happy ending!

I hope this sounds like something you’d enjoy writing, if not that’s totally ok too❤️

Masterpiece

James Potter x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: (see above) James Potter goes a little too far with a girl everyone happens to like.

AN: I am so sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it <3

CW: not proof read, use of {Y/N}, Jealous and Stupid James, sexual implied ending, Protective salty Remus, self indulgent, cursing, very slight angst, fem reader, not cannon complacent, sexual innuendo,

WC: ~9k

The sky was overcast and the wind was blowing rapidly, causing your sleeves to billow as the very stool you perched on teetered from side to side. You grabbed the seat and tried to steady your perch, holding up your paint brush away from your portrait as the creamy white shade dripped down on your bare legs. 

Dressed in casual clothes, your paint stained denim short overalls and a striped shirt that hid evidence of handprint smears from your absentminded messes. Sleeves rolled up to show your speckled skin already decorated with splotches of white and browns, fresh hazy grays that resembled the foggy ground of Hogwarts and its students. 

“{Y/N} {L/N}?” A voice so calm and careful called out from behind you. You turned and smiled on instinct, your eyes landing on the tall figure. He was also in more casual clothes, a brown cable knit sweater vest over a simple white button down shirt. He was holding up a piece of paper to his eyes before he put it in his pocket. Smiling so kindly, where the corners of his eyes crinkled and his scarred lip curled up to reveal perfectly uneven teeth.

Ballet white.

“Remus Lupin?” You called out to him and he chuckled, taking a few long steps to stand beside you. 

“You were meant to wait for me, you know.” He teased and slipped his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I know, I know. But this was the perfect time for it.” You lifted your hands to gesture to the sky and he looked around to try and find what exactly made this 'perfect.’

“How’d you even manage to get in here?” He quizzed and took a seat on the railing. Looking around at the castle grounds from the top of RavenClaw’s tower, you got the perfect view of the astronomy tower, what you were currently painting. 

“There wasn't much convincing involved. Barty Crouch walked me up here.” You smirked and he looked bewildered.

“You know Crouch?” 

“Yeah, I do.”

Remus furrowed his brow as he tried to piece together how he hadn't heard of you before. Seeing as he was meant to be escorting you two and from each Hogwarts house for your own personal study, it seemed unlikely he wouldn't of known of you, getting this particular form of special treatment from the headmaster himself.

Remus walked around you and took a peak at what you were painting. The air so familiar, and comforting, both of you had forgotten you had just met.

“What are you painting?”

“Magical paintings.” You hummed and he furrowed his brow further.

“Don't you usually need a subject?”

“Traditionally.” You muttered and gestured for him to sit down. He listened almost instantly, sitting down on the floor next to you, laying his crutch across his lap. After a moment of pause you shrugged and set your paint aside, shifting to sit beside him on the floor, making him chuckle.

“Do you know how they work?”

“Not a clue.” He shifted to sit and face you fully. Both of you crossed your legs, like tots ready to swap unearthing secrets in the school yard. 

“Well. What you're thinking of is magical portraits. The art of bringing the life of the subject to the painting.” You declared almost breathless. “But that's amature work.” 

He gave a delighted and startled laugh at your bold declaration, but it didn't impede you.

“The true magic is being able to bring life that isn't visible to the naked eye, to visual art forms.” You declared and gestured to your painting. Remus’s eyes flickered up and widened a bit. You gave an excitable bright smile as you both watched the misty fog in your painting shift, the faint stars in the background twinkle against the backdrop, and even the few faint sketches of students within the distant tower moving about. 

“Woah.” He whispered and you nodded eagerly. 

“Isn't it inspiring?” 

“It is.” He agreed instantly before he looked back at you. “But, doesn't it typically take magic from the subject for it to work effectively? How does this work?”

“Well, don't you think Hogwarts is possibly the most magical place in the world?” You argued and he chuckled at how easily you brushed off the question. 

Of course, no one truly knew how it worked. Not that the creator of the art method ever documented his findings. The only clear part of it was not everyone had the knack for it. You were lucky, since you were young, to be able to produce the art even before you got your magic.

You turned to Remus, who was watching with rapt attention.

“Do you want to try?” You offered, a mischievous smile taking over your features that looked startlingly familiar to Remus.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Me? Paint?”

“Why not? You might find you have a hidden talent!” You encouraged, handing him a brush and a palette. 

Reluctantly, he took the brush, glancing at the canvas as if it were a daunting task. Exaggerative hesitation to defile such a beautiful painting. You grinned, ready to guide him through it. Little did you know that in that moment, you had endeared yourself to Remus in a way not many people were able to. 

For the next few hours, well after curfew, you and Remus stayed perched on the RavenClaw tower, as you instructed him on what colors and paints to use. He was doing his best not to ‘ruin it’, which quickly went out the window when, in a moment of playful determination, you covered your hands in black paint and began to stamp your canvas. Convincing him that you truly didn't care what he did to the painting as long as it was fun.

Finally, you both snuck out of the RavenClaw tower as quietly as possible, trying not to wake anyone. Leading to you two in the halls, laughing and joking as he carried your canvas for you. 

“So, you're self taught?” He prodded and you nodded. 

“Yup! Have been doing this since I was.. four? Likely. My mother showed me.” You hummed and he gave a delighted laugh. 

“Really? So you're studying in your free time?”

“Mhm! It's not something that can really be.. taught. So Hogwarts doesn't have classes on it quite yet.” You waved your hand vaguely and he nodded. 

“You're telling me this now, after all that time trying? You got my hopes up, {L/N}.”

You giggled and he put his hand over his heart in fake anguish. 

“I was this close to changing career paths, you know.”

“Oh, I'm sure you were. I could see the headline now: 'Remus Lupin, Future Auror, Turns Painter After One Magical Evening.'” You laughed, nudging him playfully with your elbow. 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I’ll stick to Defense Against the Dark Arts, thank you very much. But this-” He gestured to the covered painting with a soft look. “You turned this mess into something amazing. You're truly talented.”

“I know.” You sang and he laughed, nudging you. 

“I'm serious, you know.”

“Sirius? I thought you were his boyfriend?”

“Oh Merlin, you're as bad as they are.”

You gave a laugh of your own and shoved him back. “Oh, you Marauders? Please tell me you're joking.” 

“No, no, truly. I think you'd get along. Gryffindor tower is next, right?” He prodded as you both entered the hall and stopped just before the dungeons’ entrance.

“Mhm.” 

“I'll see you tomorrow then?” He offered and held out his hand. You took it with a firm shake and you both said your goodbyes, hurrying over to the Slytherin common room.

~~~

“She's quite fun, showed me how to match pallets colors.” Remus rambled on to Lily who gave a delighted laugh at how excited he was to show her his new found artistic ability. They were sitting on the couch together, and he was exposing to her why his newest sweater vest was absolutely ruined 

“She sounds lovely.” Lily hummed, Sirius smirking from his spot between Remus’s knees, looking up at him. Eyes closed as one of the werewolf’s hands tangled in his loches of hair. 

“So lovely you should just marry her.” Sirius teased and Remus glared at him, giving a particularly rough tug at his boyfriend's hair. Sirius giving a chuckle and biting his lip. “I see no punishment here.”

“You-”

“Whose getting hitched?” James piped up from the stairs, jogging over and hopping onto the couch. Making the cushions bounce a bit as he got comfortable. “Evans, how can you let this happen? A Hogwarts marriage that's not our own?”

Lily gave a sigh and rolled her eyes, gathering her things and saying her goodbyes to Remus and Sirius, giving James the cold shoulder with a simple ‘Potter’ as he put his hand over his chest and sunk further into the cushions. 

“She says that name like it won't be hers someday.” He sighed fondly before he turned to look at the other two. “Where's Wormy?”

“He's on a date with a Hufflepuff.” Sirius snickered. “Some seventh year dude.”

“Huh.” James muttered and looked at the ceiling. “Didn't think he'd be the type to date older.”

“Yeah well-” Before Sirius could continue, Remus’s head peaked up from the couch when there was a knock on the portrait door. 

“That her?” Sirius asked as Remus slugged out of his seat to get around his clingy boyfriend. 

“Likely!” He shouted back and James tilted his head like a confused puppy.

“Who?” He quizzed Sirius and he smirked up at James.

“{Y/N} {L/N}, the artist extraordinaire.” Sirius replied with mock seriousness, adjusting his position to climb onto the couch. “Remus has been raving about her all evening.”

“{Y/N} {L/N}? Where have I heard of her before?” James leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Oh! That paint girl? One who has been doing those weird paint studies around school?”

“Yeah, that’s her.” Sirius replied, grinning. “Apparently, she's doing some self study. Remus was practically glowing when he talked about her.”

James’s eyes widened with intrigue. “That’s brilliant! I’ve heard whispers about her- it’s supposed to be absolutely mesmerizing.”

“I wouldn't go that far.” You interjected, stepping through the portrait hole just in time to catch the end of the conversation. You were slightly out of breath, having hurried from the Slytherin dungeons to the Gryffindor tower, your paint-stained overalls still evidence of your artistic endeavors from yesterday. Looking around at the beautiful common room. A very faded almost gray-green scarf around your neck.

Burnt Scarlet and Butterscotch

The room fell silent as all eyes turned toward you. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You teased with a playful grin, glancing around at the familiar faces of the infamous boys. Sirius was looking you over curiously, with his typical sleazy grin, but James seemed absolutely slack jawed. After a moment of a wait you gave a small laugh, snapping James out of whatever trance he was in. Turning to look at Remus who had his eyes locked on your paints, making you smile.

His eyes flicked up to yours and he grinned back cheekily. “Where should I set up?”

“Over here, near the window.” He gestured over to a small nook. You hurried over and set your things down. Starting of course with a small tarp to set up your painting area without having to worry about ruining the flooring.

You set up two canvas this time and Remus helped you, confused at first before you set another pallet and paint brush down. “Alright, my student. Do you remember what I taught you?” You teased and he laughed, walking over to pick up the paint.

“You didn't have the bring this just for me.”

“Oh I know, how great am I, right?” You teased and sat down. Remus was still getting used to your deflective personality. Shrugging as he sat down and watched as you worked. Doing his best to copy your movements.

Meanwhile, Sirius and James were watching the scene curiously. Sirius couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the attention his boyfriend was giving this new girl, and James was unable to get over the fading color of your scarf. His jaw clenched a bit as he watched Lily walk over to introduce herself, also somehow roped in by your charm and even sitting down with you two to watch you paint.

James leaned back on the couch, arms crossed as he watched the interaction unfold before him. The sight of you, animated and joyful as you explained your artistic process to Remus and Lily, stirred something in him. It wasn't just the way you wielded your paintbrush with such confidence; it was the warmth that radiated from you. You were a Slytherin, so obviously, but you held the room like a Gryffindor. You worked with the precision of a RavenClaw. You were patient and thoughtful with Remus and his questions, like a HufflePuff.

He didn't get it.

“Oi, Prongs, you look like you’ve just swallowed a lemon.” Sirius whispered, nudging James with his elbow. “What’s got you all broody?”

“Nothin.” James replied, too quickly, his eyes still fixed on you. “Just… watching.”

Sirius followed his eyes and slowly smirked to himself. “She's getting under your skin too, huh?” 

James glanced at Sirius before his glare locked back on you as you instructed Lily to take your paintbrush and gestured to the canvas he couldn't see. “What's her deal? Why's she so.. smiley?” 

The ‘as a Slytherin’ part came unspoken to both of the boys.

“You know, Remus says she knows Crouch.” 

“Of course she does.” He muttered, eyes locked on the way you rolled up your sleeve and cuffed them. How you loosened your collar, and leaned down, showing the upper valley to your-

And suddenly the floor was a bit more interesting. He turned to look at Sirius who’s lip twitched as he watched Remus rub his thumb across his cheek and smudge some black paint on himself.

“... Merlin, he's bloody fit, ain't he?” Sirius muttered and James gave a loud exaggerated groan.

“I'm shocked Remus is entertaining her at all.” James finally muttered and sunk deeper into his sheet like a pouty child. Sirius nodded.

James watched with narrowed eyes as you laughed along with Remus and Lily, his annoyance bubbling up to the surface. Without really thinking it through, he pushed himself up from the couch, making his way over to where you were sitting with the paintbrushes and palettes laid out neatly.

He made it look casual, like he was just getting a better view, but as he stepped closer, his foot "accidentally" caught the jar of paint water perched near the edge of the table. It tipped, and time seemed to slow as the murky water splashed all over your leggings that just peaked form under your overalls, staining the fabric a dark, ugly color.

"Oh! Whoops, sorry 'bout that," James said, not quite managing to hide the smirk tugging at his lips. His tone was just on the edge of sincere, but the glint in his eyes gave him away.

You glanced down at the mess, then up at James, and for a moment it seemed like the whole room held its breath. James just waiting for the snake to snap its jaws at him. But instead of getting angry, instead of snapping at him like he expected, you just smiled- a bright, genuine smile that made James's stomach twist uncomfortably.

"No worries, Potter.” You mused, brushing it off as if nothing had happened. "A bit of extra color never hurt anyone."

James blinked, taken aback. He hadn’t expected that. He muttered something that might have been an apology, but the way you smiled at him; completely unbothered- only made his irritation flare up more. He turned sharply on his heel, stalking back to the couch where Sirius was watching with an amused expression.

"Smooth, mate," Sirius drawled, arching an eyebrow.

"Shut it," James muttered, sinking back into his seat, his eyes flicking back to you as you continued painting like nothing had happened.

---

Over the next few days, James found himself increasingly irked by you. No matter what he did, you never seemed fazed. He "accidentally" knocked over your brushes during lunch one day, scattering them across the floor. You just laughed, picking them up without complaint. He charmed your canvas to keep sliding down whenever you set it up, but you only adjusted it each time, humming to yourself as if it were all just part of the process. He even tried to charm the colors in your palette to mix into a murky brown- but you simply shrugged, saying something about it being a "happy little accident" and turned it into a whole new painting.

Each time, you just smiled at him, that infuriatingly calm smile that made James feel like he was the one being childish. It was driving him mad, and Sirius, for one, found the whole thing endlessly entertaining.

One morning, James was sitting in the Great Hall, absently poking at his breakfast, when he heard a determined set of footsteps approaching. He looked up just in time to see you standing over him, hands on your hips, your eyes sharp. If James was a smarter boy, he would of been able to see the faint red rims around your eye sockets and the twitch of your lip.

"Potter.” You huffed, your voice carrying just enough edge to catch the attention of the surrounding students. "Give it back."

James blinked, feigning innocence. "Give what back?"

"Don't play dumb.” You snapped, leaning over the table, your face inches from his. "My paintbrush. The one with the silver handle. I know you took it."

James opened his mouth to deny it, but the look in your eyes made him hesitate. There was something different today- a fire that hadn’t been there before. He was finally getting a reaction from you. He felt his resolve waver, and before he could stop himself, he found his hand reaching into his robes, to pull out the paintbrush in question. Only.. it wasn't there.

James blinked, his smirk faltering as he patted the pocket where he thought he’d stashed your paintbrush. It wasn’t there. A pang of unease settled in his chest as he searched through the other pockets of his robes, the smirk fading completely as he came up empty-handed.

“Are you kidding me?” You straightened, your eyes narrowing. “Potter, don’t play games right now. That brush… it’s important to me.”

There was a crack in your voice, something raw that caught James off guard. The confidence you always carried seemed to waver, your voice betraying a vulnerability that made James's stomach sink with guilt.

“I… I swear it was right here,” James muttered, now frantically checking every inch of his robes, his face growing paler with each empty pocket. The students around them had grown quiet, sensing the sudden seriousness of the situation.

Remus was glaring daggers into his very soul, even Sirius hid his face away in his hand.

You stood there, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your lips pressed together as you fought to maintain composure. You looked away from him, swallowing hard. “Potter, that was my mother’s. She gave it to me before…” You trailed off, your voice breaking slightly before you cleared your throat, trying to regain control.

James’s heart sank. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t thought. All he’d wanted was to rile you up, to see you react. He hadn’t meant for this.

“Alright,” He said quickly, standing up from the table. His voice was more earnest now, the usual cockiness gone. “I’ll help you find it. It must have fallen out somewhere. Let’s go check my dorm.”

You didn’t say anything, just nodded stiffly, blinking rapidly as you turned on your heel and started walking, James trailing after you. The Great Hall was eerily quiet as they left, whispers following in their wake.

“She's too damn nice.” Remus muttered and Sirius sighed. About to say something, before he earned a glare from Remus too. 

Lily tutted. “As if you weren't involved in anything he's done to her so far.”

~~~

The walk to the Gryffindor common room felt like it took forever, the silence between the two of you heavy. James kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, the way your jaw was clenched, the way you kept your eyes straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze.

When they reached the boys' dormitory, James immediately began tearing through his things, searching every nook and cranny. He pulled open drawers, checked under his bed, even rummaged through the pockets of his other robes. But the paintbrush was nowhere to be found.

He turned to you, his hands dropping to his sides in defeat. “I… I’m so sorry, {Y/N}, I can’t find it. Maybe it fell somewhere else, maybe-”

“Stop,” You cut him off, your voice barely a whisper. Your eyes were glassy, tears welling up as you looked at him. The fight you’d been trying to keep inside seemed to crumble all at once, your shoulders sagging as you sank down onto the edge of his bed. “It’s gone, isn’t it?”

James stared at you, his heart aching at the sight of you like this. He’d never imagined he’d see you cry, and knowing he was the cause of it made him feel worse than he ever thought possible. Suddenly all those weeks of trying to get under your skin seemed more of a success, if this was the result of a truly damaging prank.

“I…” He didn’t know what to say, how to fix this. He knelt down in front of you, his voice gentle. “I’ll find it, I promise. I’ll look everywhere, I’ll…”

You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It’s not just a paintbrush, Potter. It was hers. It was all I had left of her.”

James’s chest tightened, and he reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on your knee. “I’m so sorry. I… I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I’ll find it. I swear I will.”

You looked down at his hand, then back at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of pain and exhaustion. “Just… don’t,” You whispered, your voice breaking. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Potter.”

And with that, you stood up, wiping at your eyes as you turned and left the dormitory, leaving James there, staring after you, feeling more helpless than he ever had before.

~~~

James had never felt guilt like this. It gnawed at him, making his usual swagger feel empty. Over the next few days, he found himself constantly scanning the corridors, the classrooms, even the common rooms, hoping to catch a glimpse of you but you were always just out of reach. Each time he spotted you, you either turned and walked the other way or simply looked right through him as if he didn't exist.

It wasn't long before the whole school knew what had happened. How James Potter had lost something precious of yours, something irreplaceable. And unlike other times, where his mischief had earned him admiration or laughter, this time he received disapproving glares and whispers behind his back. How he hurt the only Slytherin everyone seemed to adore. Even Remus had given him the cold shoulder for a while, and Lily refused to talk to him outright.

One day, after Transfiguration, James caught sight of you slipping out of the classroom. He hurried to catch up, weaving through the crowd of students, his heart pounding in his chest. When he finally reached you, he touched your arm gently.

“{Y/N}, please, just give me a second.”

You turned slowly, your eyes meeting his. There was a guardedness there that hadn’t been before, a wall that you had built between yourself and him. It hurt more than James could put into words.

Even then, you took time to notice; Cinnamon Brown in his eyes.

 James Potter was used to rejection, Lily Evans ran him like it was a damned sport, but something about your usually positive beaming face turning to a frown at the sight of him wrecked him.

“What do you want, Potter?” You asked, your voice tired, as if dealing with him was just another chore.

He swallowed, struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry. Really. I never meant for things to go this far. I’ve been looking for your brush, I swear it. I… I just want to make it up to you.”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “There’s nothing you can do, alright? Just leave it, Potter.”

“But-”

“No,” You said firmly. “I don’t want anything to do with you. You’ve done enough. I- I thought you were funny, that you could tell a good joke. Take one too. But this- no. No, just leave me be, Potter.”

James flinched at your words, the finality of them cutting deeper than he expected. He watched as you turned and walked away, the distance between you growing with every step.

~~~

James's heart sank deeper with each day that passed without a sign of the lost paintbrush. He had scoured the castle, enlisted the help of some of his housemates, and even tried asking around discreetly in other houses, but to no avail. It was as if the brush had vanished into thin air, leaving behind a growing rift between him and you.

Sitting in the Gryffindor common room, James slumped on a couch, staring blankly at the fire crackling in the hearth. Sirius and Remus were there too, the latter still showing signs of his displeasure over the whole ordeal.

"I messed up, didn't I?" James murmured, not really expecting an answer.

"You did.” Remus deadpanned, not looking up from his book. "And you know it's not just about the brush. It's about how you've been treating her from the start."

Sirius, lounging with his back against the armrest, watched James closely. "You've been a right prat, Prongs- even I gave in after the first prank.” He remarked and avoided Remus’s slight glare. “You didn't just step on her toes, you danced the bloody Tango on them."

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I just wanted to get a rise out of her, see her react. But now... I can't stop thinking about how I made her feel. It's like I'm seeing myself for the first time and it's not a pretty picture."

"Sounds like you've got it bad," Sirius said with a smirk.

Remus closed his book, finally giving James his full attention, not exactly happy with what he was hearing. "It's not just guilt, James. It's empathy. You're finally understanding the impact of your actions on others."

James looked from Sirius to Remus, the realization slowly dawning on him. "It's not like I like her. She's just.. pretty. You know, I hate to see a pretty face so upset.” He scoffed and looked back to Sirius who arched his eyebrow and smirked wider as he realized his remark wasn't as playful as he intended.

“That right?” Sirius pushed and James huffed. 

“That’s right.”

“When was the last time you bothered poor Evans?” Sirius challenged and Remus gave a low groan. Great, James just couldn't leave his friends alone. 

He watched in a bit of sympathy as the dumb boys jaw slowly went limp and his eyes widened. “Merlin, I think I like her.” He mumbled in absolute dread. “Like really like her. And I've gone and ruined it before it could even start."

"Well, you can't undo what you've done, but you can start making amends," Remus advised, a softer tone replacing his earlier reprimand.

"How? She doesn’t even want to see me," James lamented.

"Give her time and show her you've changed.. And Merlin, don't do this just to win her over." Remus huffed.

James pondered, his gaze drifting toward the flickering fire. "What if she never forgives me?"

"Then you’ll learn a valuable lesson in respect, won't you?" Remus said sternly. "You can't force forgiveness, James. All you can do is prove that you're better than your worst mistake."

“Does Merlin speak straight through you?” James muttered to Remus who swatted him with the book across his lap, before standing. 

“I need new friends.” He mumbled as he walked away.

Sirius laughed and James pouted, sinking back into the cushions of the couch. Pondering what would be the next best move when earning your forgiveness. He could live with never being with you, he always found the concept of lost love romantic. 

What he couldn't do was live knowing he hurt you without even trying for your forgiveness.

~~~

For the next few weeks, Hogwarts transformed into an entirely different realm for James. Determined to right his wrongs, he threw himself into the role of a repentant suitor with the zeal of a true 70s romantic hero; one who was more often clumsy than charming.

One morning at breakfast, armed with an armful of apology notes penned in his best handwriting (which still looked suspiciously like chicken scratch), James tried to navigate the treacherous waters of your friends’ skepticism and Barty’s disdain. He handed out his notes, his voice tinged with hopeful earnestness that made a few of your friends stifle their giggles. “Could you- um, would you make sure {Y/N} gets these? They’re, well, important.” His cheeks flamed red as he stumbled over his words, but the sincerity in his eyes earned him a few nods. The stuttering and foolish boy even earning a smile from Pandora Rosier who assured him she'd ‘do her best.’

He was getting desperate, at every shred of attention you spared him. During potions class, James attempted to be your knight in shining armor, which, predictably, went about as well as a troll in a ballet shop. When he noticed you struggling to reach a vial of newt eyes on a high shelf, he leapt up, nearly knocking over his own cauldron in his eagerness to assist. “Allow me!” 

But his overly enthusiastic grab sent the vial spinning into the air, only to crash down right next to Slughorn’s feet, splattering the hem of his robes with an unsightly goo. 

“Sorry, Professor!” James winced, while you suppressed a snicker at the sheer absurdity of his gallantry. Graveling even as he was sentenced to detention.

Now, James knew that if he wanted to be truthful with you it started with his behaviors. Which, started with him being truly himself. So, much to Remus’s annoyance, James turned to grander gestures. 

He managed to convince the house elves to let him borrow the kitchens for an evening to bake you a peace offering. Armed with sugar, flour, and an overabundance of misplaced confidence, he set about creating what he envisioned would be a culinary masterpiece. The result was a lopsided cake with icing that read, "Forgive me?" in wobbly letters. Only, half of the cake was callapsed, making it seem much more like a command of “give me”. 

He presented it to you during dinner, his hands shaking slightly as he placed it on the table. The entire Great Hall watched in anticipation as you took a bite. The cake was oddly salty, but when your lips twitched into a reluctant smile, James felt a surge of pure elation. Maybe, just maybe, his efforts were thawing your icy regard.

He even tried serenading you one evening in the common room, guitar in hand- a skill he had hastily learned over the past week. His voice cracked more than once, and the guitar was slightly out of tune, but he sang with such heartfelt passion that even the portraits along the walls seemed to listen in. He crooned to you, mangling the melody as he went. You watched, half-amused and half-astonished, as this boy who’d never shown an interest in music before butchered the song with endearing enthusiasm. Everyone in your common room appalled.

Through it all, James's exploits became the talk of Hogwarts. Whispers followed him everywhere- some mocking, others admiring. Some even amused that his attention had switched from Lily Evans, to you after years of pining. But beneath the laughter and the rumors, a thread of respect grew among his peers. Here was James Potter, chasing redemption as doggedly as he’d once chased after mischief.

Late one night, as James sat by the fire reflecting on his recent life choices, Sirius plopped down next to him, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “Prongs, you’re a bleeding heart wrapped in a jester’s cloak,” Sirius shook his head with a grin.

James laughed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I just need to know she forgives me, Padfoot. That I’ve made things right.”

“Well, mate, at the very least, you’ve given the whole school a good show,” Sirius chuckled. “And who knows? Maybe our little Slytherin is writing her own notes now; ‘How to Tame Your Marauder’ or something more poetic.”

James smiled, gazing into the flickering flames, hopeful and a bit wiser. In his quest to win your forgiveness, he’d stumbled across something unexpected. Something worth it. Not just you, but a desire- no, need- to better himself. Every time he saw you smile, made you laugh, roll your eyes, he wanted to be someone better. Someone who deserved to find themselves feeling the magic of being in love with a girl like {Y/N} {L/N}.

And maybe he'd even find himself worthy of her affection in return.

~~~

It all came to a head one day when he was scouring the school once again for your paintbrush. He had lost track of time in his mindless routine and forgotten about potions class. He was a half hour late, dashing into the classroom in a ruffled mess.

His breathless arrival didn’t go unnoticed, especially by you, who eyed him warily from your spot at the potions bench. Professor Slughorn eyed him with a mixture of irritation and curiosity. 

“Mr. Potter, so kind of you to join us,” Slughorn boomed, sarcasm heavy in his tone. “Twenty points from Gryffindor for your tardiness, it's almost as if you left to miss my instruction specifically.” 

James grimaced but still tried to flash his playful smile that usually meant a clap back or snark. Instead, it was his form of a hesitant apology. “Sorry Professor-”

“I am not going over the instructions for Amortentia a third time today, is anyone willing to assist Mr. Potter?” Slughorn announced form the front of the class. There was a long moment of silence. Even with everyone slowly growing fond of him, no one was willing to drag down such an important project for the foolish boy.

Then, from across the room, your voice cut through the tension. "I can help him, Professor," you said, your voice calm but with an edge that didn’t entirely mask your reluctance. Everyone's heads turned towards you, including a visibly surprised James.

"Very well, {Y/N}. Please ensure Mr. Potter catches up without disrupting the rest of the class," Slughorn replied with a nod, turning back to his notes.

James approached your bench, a mix of gratitude and nervousness evident on his face. As he took the seat next to you, he whispered, "Thank you, I really mean it."

As James settled beside you at the potions bench, his hands fumbled slightly with the equipment. Slughorn, having returned to the front of the class, continued with his lecture, oblivious to the dramatic love story unfolding at the back.

James cleared his throat softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Really, {Y/N}, thanks for helping me out here. I know I've been... well, less than admirable lately."

You didn't look at him immediately, focusing instead on measuring out rose thorns with precision. "Just start by adding these to the cauldron slowly.” You instructed, handing him the thorns. "And stir- don't let it settle."

As he followed your instructions, his movements were careful, mirroring the cautious tone he was taking with you. After a moment, you finally met his gaze. "You've been trying hard, haven't you?" You muttered, not unkindly. Your eyes drifting over his focused expression and having to fight a smile.

James paused, the stirring rod in his hand still. "I have. I want to make things right, not just with you but... well, I've been thinking a lot about things I've done. I'm sorry, truly."

You watched him, the sincerity in his eyes striking a chord that made your heart ache. What had you done to the famous James Potter? His efforts over the past few weeks hadn’t gone unnoticed- it was quite entertaining. From the awkwardly presented cake to his out-of-tune serenades, his actions spoke far more than his words ever did. "I've noticed.” You whispered. "It's been hard to miss, really. Hogwarts hasn't been this entertaining in years."

A small smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "I guess I've made a bit of a spectacle of myself."

"Just a bit.” You chuckled, the tension easing between you as the familiar rhythm of your banter found its footing again.

Encouraged by that sweet sound of your laugh and the pretty way your lips curled into a smile he just adored-, James continued, "If there’s any chance I could, you know, maybe start over? I’d understand if not but-"

"You're really laying it on thick with the humility, Potter. It’s a good look on you.” You teased gently, turning back to the potion, which was now bubbling contentedly. "Let's just take it one day at a time. But, yeah, we can start with being friends."

James let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, relief washing over him. "Friends, right. And if you ever want to throw more paint at me, just say when."

"Be careful, I might take you up on that.” You warned with a playful grin.

As the class progressed, you both fell into an easy rhythm, the earlier awkwardness replaced by a budding conversation. James was surprisingly adept once he focused, and you found yourself laughing more genuinely than you had in a while at his self-deprecating jokes and clumsy yet earnest attempts at potion-making.

By the end of the class, not only had you two successfully brewed a passable batch of Amortentia, which thankfully didn't smell like sweat and regret. James had shown you a different side of himself, one that was humbly trying to make amends and move forward. And as you packed up your supplies, sharing a light joke about the day's mishaps, it felt like a fresh start was truly possible.

James took the chance to smile back at Remus and Sirius. Sirius seemed delighted for him, and Remus seemed hesitant. But it was okay, because you hadn't just forgiven him. You were willing to be his friend.

~~~

James slowly realised that being your friend was likely one of the best feelings he's had in a while. He thought everyone you had met were your friends, considering how sweet and lovely you were with everyone. 

But he was wrong.

There was a crazy side to you that only a small few saw. He learned it quickly, that you were sweet, kind, understanding- yes.

But you were an absolute gremlin when you wanted to be.

James discovered this one evening when you invited him to join you for a late-night painting session- a tradition you shared with a select few. Remus told him about them, but he never really understood just how amazing it felt to have your full attention like this. He had anticipated a serene evening, maybe learning a bit more about your magical painting techniques. Instead, he found himself in the middle of a chaotic spree of creativity that involved more prank-like antics than actual painting.

How in the bloody hell had he not known you properly?

As James entered the room, he was immediately hit by a flying glob of paint. It splattered across his face, dripping down his cheek. He stood, stunned for a moment, before hearing your laughter from behind an easel.

“Oh Potter, rule one. Never let your guard down.” You taunted and quickly hurried over to your canvas. Able to notice how the bright pink paint clung to his Jet Black hair.

Wiping the paint off with a sleeve, James couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a spark of challenge light up within him. "Oh, it’s on, {Y/N}." He responded, grabbing a palette loaded with vibrant colors.

What ensued was a wild mess of laughter, artistic ‘attacks,’ and impromptu paint duels that left both of you covered in every hue imaginable. Hindsight is 20/20- he shouldn't of worn his school robes. It was during these moments, dodging your playful ambushes and crafting hasty shields out of canvas boards, that James realized how comfortable he felt around you. Your laughter became a soundtrack he looked forward to, and your approving nods at his clumsy attempts at art warmed him more than he expected.

“It's humiliating how good you're getting at this.” You teased from your perch on a stool, James chuckled and playfully flipped you off.

“So much sass. And if I credited this to my teacher?”

“You should, I'm bloody good.” You laughed, wiping your nose before sneezing away some of the wet paint you forgot was on your hand.

That night became a normal accurance, it was like you two never fought. You two would find yourself laying on a tarp full of paint. You were laying on your back with your legs against the wall, and he was sitting with his back against said wall. Both of you looking off into dead space as you both talked about the most random and ridiculous things; from the controversial taste of pasties to the value and control one had over each other's fates.

“You know, everytime I come here, I remember why I've fallen for you.”

His words came out before he could stop himself. His jaw dropped at his own broken honesty, horrified that he had ruined the moment. 

After a moment of silence, he looked down to see you smiling at the ceiling. 

“Is that so?”

James swallowed thick and clenched his jaw a bit.

“Yeah.”

“That's awfully sweet of you.”

Your words were light, but they carried a weight that settled over James with an unexpected warmth. He watched you, admiring the serene expression on your face, highlighted by the ambient light that filtered through the scattered paint jars around you. He welcomed the twist of his gut like an old friend.

"I mean it, though," James continued, a hint of vulnerability in his voice as he leaned his head back against the wall, his gaze still fixed on you. "You make it easy to be myself, to be better. You've turned what started as a mess into something... pretty great."

“And isn't that just life?” You teased softly. “Sappy, messy, and yet an absolute masterpiece.”

“Is that what you truly believe?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just say what makes sense to me in the moment.”

“You're a pain.” He chuckled and looked down, seeing your smile had grown tenfold. Your nose scrunching up and the corners of your eyes wrinkling.

James couldn't resist the infectious energy of your smile. It pulled a laugh from deep within him, a genuine, carefree sound that filled the room- he was screwed. "You're brilliant, you know that? Absolutely infuriating, but brilliant."

You shifted to sit up, leaning against the wall next to him, paint smears marking both your faces and clothes. "I'll take that as a compliment, Potter. Coming from you, it means quite a lot."

And that was all. James hadn't even registered your soft rejection, just relieved you seemed to accept him regardless. He leaned his head on your shoulder and you flicked off some stray pain from his nose. He smiled, all teeth, before he got up and forced you to your feet. Pulling you into a dance that made you cackle like a proper witch. And that was enough. To see you so bloody happy was enough.

~~~

James learned to share you quickly. With Barty always on your heel or Pandora hovering listlessly at your side. 

He even grew accustomed to seeing you draped in the easy camaraderie of Ravenclaws and your fellow Slytherins, your infectious laugh filling the spaces you all occupied together. It was during these times that James learned to appreciate you in a new light- not just as a friend or a fleeting crush, but as a vibrant part of his Hogwarts experience.

It wasn’t always easy, of course. The sting of his previous actions lingered like a shadow at the edge of his thoughts, a reminder of the consequences of his thoughtlessness. Yet, each shared smile and each shared conversation with you wove a new thread of respect and affection into the fabric of his daily life.

As winter deepened and the snow began to blanket Hogwarts, bringing with it the festive buzz of the upcoming holiday season, James found himself more reflective. The common room was often aglow with the warm light of the fire, students gathered around in cozy clusters, and it was here that James found a new sense of belonging. Not just as a Marauder, but as a friend among a wider circle that included you.

One chilly evening, as the wind howled outside and the frost painted delicate patterns on the castle windows, James approached you with a tentative peace offering- a sketchbook. Its cover was a simple, deep blue, but inside, he had taken the time to fill the first page with a clumsy yet earnest attempt at a magical painting. It wasn’t animated like yours, but the colors were vibrant, a silent testament to his efforts to understand your world.

You accepted the sketchbook with a surprised chuckle, flipping through the blank pages before pausing at his painting. “This is for me?” You asked, a softness in your voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Yeah,” James nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking uncharacteristically shy. “I thought… well, I thought you could use it to capture the winter. I know it’s not magical like yours, but-”

“It’s perfect, James,” You interrupted, a sincere smile breaking across your face. “Really. Thank you.”

That smile, that simple moment, seemed to close a chapter on the earlier tensions between you two.

“Of course, it's not free.”

“Id expect nothing less.” You teased and he chuckled. 

“Quiddich. You never go to the games. All I ask, next week, come and cheer me on?” He offered and you couldn't up but laugh. “Are you asking for a lucky charm, Potter?”

”Not any Lucky charm. Mine.” 

~~~

The day of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin arrived with the usual buzz of excitement and rivalry. The stands were packed, a sea of red and green as students cheered boisterously for their respective houses. James, his nerves on edge, had been secretly looking forward to seeing you in the crowd, especially after your promise to wear Gryffindor red. It was a small victory, but for him, it meant the world.

However, as he scanned the crowd from his broom high above, his heart sank a little. There you were, indeed wrapped in a bold, red scarf, but still cheering enthusiastically for Slytherin. The sight was confusing and, if he was honest with himself, a bit disappointing. Throughout the match, James tried to focus on the game, but his eyes inevitably kept drifting back to you. Each cheer for Slytherin felt like a playful taunt, and his competitive spirit took a hit each time.

Despite his best efforts, the game didn't go well for Gryffindor. Slytherin was sharp, coordinated, and relentless. When the Slytherin seeker caught the Snitch, sealing their victory, a wave of green cheers swept the stands. James landed his broom with a tight expression, his disappointment not just in the loss, but in the mixed signals you seemed to be sending.

The teams made their way back to the locker rooms amidst mixed reactions from the crowd. While his team consoled each other and talked about what went wrong, James couldn’t shake off his gloom. He avoided the usual post-game mingling, instead heading straight for the Gryffindor common room, his mood as dark as the clouds above.

As he slumped into an armchair by the fire, the common room mostly empty due to the ongoing celebrations outside, Remus and Sirius walked in. They took one look at him and exchanged a glance.

“Tough game, Prongs,” Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Yeah. And I guess the whole wearing-red thing didn’t mean what I thought it did,” James muttered, not meeting his friends' eyes.

Remus, ever the perceptive one, added softly, “Maybe there’s more to it, James. Did you ask her about it?”

Before James could respond, the portrait hole opened, and you stepped in, still wearing the red scarf, your expression a mix of concern and determination. Seeing you, Sirius and Remus excused themselves with knowing smiles, leaving the two of you alone.

James, as avoidant as ever and riddled with emotions he didn't want to confront, stood sharply and turned towards his dormitory. You gawked at him before furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance, a pout taking over your expression. You hurried after him.

“What's wrong, Jamie?”

Oh Merlin.

“I don't want to talk to you.” James hissed out and shoved his way into his room. You huffed and shoved the door open and walked in, closing the door behind yourself.

“You're not being very fair right now. I'm sorry I couldn't win the game for you but-”

“Do not make this about the win.” 

“What is this about then, Jamie? I don't get it!” 

“Stop calling me that.” He hissed and turned to face you, making you flinch. 

“What's gotten into you?” You pushed cautiously and James scoffed.

“I can't do this! I don't get you!” He strained. “I tell you I've fallen for you and you brushed it off. I ask you to cheer for me and you show up in red, cheering for Slytherin!”

“James, it's my house.” You muttered softly and you saw his shoulders sag.

“Yeah but- I just figured-” He gave a long shaky sigh. Turning around and sitting on the bed, running his hands over his face.

You moved closer, taking a seat next to him on the bed, your own emotions swirling. Even then you were able to take notice. His teeth were strained by his jaw, yet they held the same Ballet White. His robes shimmering with Burnt Scarlet and Butterscotch. His eyes that locked onto yours so vulnerable, giving that perfect Cinnamon Brown. Then the way his hair shagged over his Jet Black lochs. You couldn't look away. Not from all your favorite colors.

“James, I wore red because you asked me to. I thought it was a way to show you that... that I care. But I'm still a Slytherin, and my friends were down there on that field too. I was cheering for them, not against you."

James looked at you, the frustration softening in his eyes as he processed your words. "I know, I know. It's just... everything got mixed up in my head. Seeing you there, in red, but not for Gryffindor. It felt like you were there, but not really with me."

You took his hand gently, squeezing it. "I was there for you, James. Maybe not in the way you expected, but I was there because you matter to me. I cheered for Slytherin, but I wore your favorite color. Can't I support both?"

James let out a small laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders. "When you put it like that, it sounds perfectly reasonable. I just... I guess I let the game get to me more than I should have."

"You're passionate, that's not a bad thing. But sometimes, you might see competition where there's just... affection." You offered him a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood further.

He returned your smile, this time with more warmth. "Affection, huh? So, you admit there’s something?" James teased, trying to shift back to his usual playful demeanor.

"Maybe I do.” You teased back, nudging him lightly. "But don't let it go to your head. We still have a lot to figure out, starting with how to handle house rivalries during Quidditch matches."

James chuckled, his spirits visibly lifted. "We'll figure it out. As long as it means I get to see you in Gryffindor red, maybe I can even cheer for Slytherin once in a while."

"That’s a deal.” You agreed, feeling the gap between you closing as the misunderstanding cleared up.

Just then, the door burst open, and Sirius poked his head in, a mischievous grin on his face. "Are we all forgiven and friendly now? Because there’s a victory party for Slytherin, and I was hoping to steal your girl for a dance, Prongs."

James rolled his eyes, but his smile was genuine. "Only if you promise to bring her back, Padfoot."

You laughed, standing up and offering James a hand up. "Let’s go then. And maybe we can start a new tradition- dancing together, no matter who wins the match."

James took your hand, standing and pulling you into a quick, grateful hug. "Sounds like a perfect plan."

Before he could pull away fully, you stole a quick kiss against his cheek. He gave a startled huff, staring at you with wide eyes. Before he could scamper out any response, or even kiss you back, you pulled away and sent him a wink. Hurrying after a laughing Sirius as he took your arm like a gentleman would.

It took James two to three business days for his system to turn back on. “H-hey, wait!” He shouted after you, stumbling over himself and hitting his foot against the bed. Giving a small curse before he stumbled back after you, not hearing the soft clank of something falling from between his head board and the dresser. 

Later that night, you two would find your mother's paintbrush, nestled between his bed posts and pillows. 

What were you doing in James Potter’s bed so late? 

Experiencing a masterpiece.

[areislol]

ㅤㅤAN ACCIDENTAL CONFESSION — AL HAITHAM + KAVEH

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd what the hell were we? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTell me we weren't just friends

pairings. al haitham x fem/afab! reader x kaveh

warnings. MDNI/READ WITH CAUTION, lowercase intended, not an established relationship but kaveh/al haitham both harbour feelings for you and vice versa, college! au, best friends, reader is a virgin, accidental confession, both al haitham and kaveh focus on you, 18+ themes, explicit content, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), porn with feelings, foreplay, threesome, p in v, praise, protection kings!! rough/soft kissing, needy kaveh, soft dom! kaveh, dom! al haitham

synopsis. both al haitham and kaveh are fed up with an upset you arriving home at 1 in the morning, eyes red and puffy from crying over your date who turned out to be like the rest of the other guys you've went on a date with, a jerk.

wordcount. 9.3k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤfriends

you stood before the mirror, meticulously adjusting the folds of your outfit, every detail carefully curated after hours of contemplation. tonight was yet another date—your fifth one.

however, as you made your final preparations, alhaitham's voice cut through the air like a sharp blade, his tone laced with veiled annoyance.

"where are you going?" he questioned, his gaze scrutinizing your dolled-up appearance.

with a sigh, you turned to face him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of resignation. "i'm going out," you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of exasperation. "another date."

alhaitham's brow furrowed in frustration, a deep sigh escaping his lips. "another date?" he repeated, his annoyance palpable. "you know how these always end up. every man you go out with ends up being a jerk."

beside him, kaveh nodded in silent agreement, his expression mirroring alhaitham's. "it's like you're drawn to the wrong kind of guys," he added, his voice filled with concern.

"i know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "but i have to keep trying, don't i? i can't give up hope that someday, i'll find the right one sooner or later."

kaveh's expressions softened with understanding, alhaitham on the other hand wouldn't let this slide. his brows furrowed hidden anger as he continued to stare at you.

after a couple of seconds, kaveh stepped forward, enveloping you in a warm embrace. "just promise us one thing," he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm. "promise us that you'll be careful, that you won't let anyone hurt you."

you returned the embrace, feeling the weight of his words resonate deep within your soul. "i promise," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "i'll be careful."

alhaitham let out a deep sigh, his eyes screwed shut. "i still don't approve of this but you better keep your promise. just give us a call if anything happens, we'll be waiting."

you nod your head, offering him a tender smile. you make sure that you look perfect before putting on your shoes and waving goodbye to your best friends. they return the wave, wishing you luck.

the door clicks shut, leaving the apartment shrouded in a heavy silence.

"... why did you wish her luck?" alhaitham asked, raising his brow. kaveh groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair. "i don't know, i did it by instinct, i think." he replied.

they had been down this road countless times before, watching as each of your dates inevitably ended in disappointment and heartache.

with a heavy sigh, alhaitham sank into the nearest chair, his features etched with a mixture of frustration and concern. "i don't know how much longer we can keep doing this," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in agitation.

kaveh nodded in silent agreement, his gaze fixed on the floor. "i know," he murmured with regret. "but what can we do? we can't just sit back and let her do this to herself."

a heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the soft hum of the city outside. for a moment, alhaitham and kaveh sat in contemplative silence, grappling with the weight of their unspoken feelings for you—their roommate, their best friend.

finally, alhaitham broke the silence, his voice tinged with determination. "we need to do something," he declared, his gaze meeting kaveh's with unwavering resolve. "we can't keep ignoring how we feel about her."

kaveh nodded in agreement, a flicker of determination sparking in his eyes. "you're right," he replied, his voice low and almost airy. "but what can we do?" alhaitham didn't respond, he stared down at his slippers and sat up straight.

"i don't know. we'll just have to wait and see."

standing in front of the elegant restaurant, bathed in the soft glow of the evening lights, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest.

the anticipation of the evening ahead filled you with a sense of eager anticipation as you checked the time on your phone—7:00 PM, right on the dot of your agreed time.

as you wait for your date to arrive, you can't help but admire the appearance of the restaurant, its ornate facade and inviting ambience promising a night of culinary delights along with the loud and enchanting conversation.

yet, as the minutes ticked by and your date failed to make an appearance, a knot of unease began to form in the pit of your stomach.

you glanced at your phone once more, the digital clock mocking you with its unyielding display of time. 7:05 PM. 7:10 PM. still no sign of your date. a sense of disappointment washed over you like a wave crashing against the shore, mingled with slight frustration at being kept waiting.

for a brief moment, doubt crept into your mind—had your date forgotten about your plans? or worse, had they stood you up altogether? amidst the whirlwind of emotions, you couldn't help but cling to a glimmer of hope, a small voice whispering that perhaps there was a reasonable explanation for their lateness.

with a deep breath, you resolved to give him a few more minutes, your nervousness was gnawing at your heart. you stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the evening lights. as the minutes stretched into an eternity, you finally made the decision to go inside the restaurant, with a heavy heart and a sense of resignation weighing heavily on your shoulders.

you made your way to a table for two, the empty chair across from you a stark reminder of your dashed hopes and unfulfilled expectations.

as you settled into your seat, the waiter approached with a warm smile. "good evening, madam," she greeted, her tone gentle and reassuring. "are you ready to order?"

you shook your head in response, a bitter taste lingering on your tongue as you explained the situation. "i'm actually waiting for my date," you admitted, "but it seems they're running late."

the waiter's smile faltered slightly, a pang of sympathy flashing across her features as she nodded in understanding. "i'm sorry to hear that," she murmured, her voice laced with genuine concern. "i hope they show up soon."

the waiter couldn't help but bite down on her lower lip, she had seen this scenario play out countless times before—lovers left waiting, hopes dashed, and dreams shattered. and even so, she couldn't help but hold onto a sliver of hope, praying that your date would arrive.

with a sympathetic smile, the waiter left you to your thoughts, giving you the space and time, you continued sitting there, surrounded by the soft hum of conversation and the tantalizing aroma of delicious food.

as the minutes dragged on and the sympathetic looks from surrounding tables grew more pronounced, you found yourself struggling to maintain your composure under the weight of their silent scrutiny.

the whispers and glances sent in your direction felt like daggers to your already wounded heart, with a heavy sigh, you realized that you couldn't bear to endure another moment of the pitying stares and hushed conversations.

you couldn't help but feel a wave of disappointment and regret crashing into you, you really should've listened to them. your eyes remained on the clothed table,

pushing back your chair, you rose from your seat and made your way towards the exit, the eyes of the other diners following your every move with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

as you reached the door, you ignored the prying eyes and hard gazes, you stepped out into the cool night air, the weight of disappointment heavy on your shoulders.

with each step you took away from the restaurant, a sense of relief washed over you, the oppressive atmosphere of the dining room gradually fading into the distance.

alone with your thoughts and emotions, you stopped just a couple of steps from the door—reaching into the pocket of your jacket you pulled out your phone, about to call alhaitham and explain, once again, about how your date went.

just as you were about to press the "call" button your finger was just hanging above the screen, was it really a good idea to call him now? you knew how this would play out.

"i told you so"

"what did i tell you?"

"when will you ever learn your lesson..."

the last thing you wanted to hear was alhaitham scolding you and his "i told you so". letting out a frustrated sigh you click your phone shut and stuff it back into your pocket. you decided to just walk home instead.

it wasn't that dark out, the sky was a mixture of dark blue and a slight tinge of orange hue. you tried your best to distract yourself with what was in your view but that was to no avail. you already knew what was going to happen as soon as you opened the door.

it was a reoccurring thing between you, kaveh and alhaitham. every time you went out on a date they would sigh in disappointment and try to talk you out of it but of course, it never worked.

despite your differences, a bond had quickly formed, forged through late-night conversations, shared meals, and the occasional movie marathon.

as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months and months turned into years, your apartment became a sanctuary—a haven where laughter echoed through the halls and memories were woven into the very fabric of the walls.

unbeknownst to each other, alhaitham and kaveh harboured feelings for you, their affections hidden behind smiles and casual banter. and in the quiet moments of the night, as you lay in bed lost in thought, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps your own feelings mirrored theirs—a thought that both thrilled and terrified you.

as you made your way to your shared apartment you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt right through your chest, your two best friends who you knew cared deeply about you were always trying to help, and yet here you were, walking back home in the darkness after being stood up by your fifth date.

you heaved a great sigh, disappointed in yourself. once i go inside, i'll definitely apologize to them! you said to yourself before finally arriving at your apartment. you mentally prepared yourself and let out a sigh before shoving the key into the keyhole and turning the lock.

you were finally home with... two clearly disappointed and concerned men.

you knew that as soon as you opened the door, a wave of bickering would hit you in the face, not that you really minded most of the time.

—

the memory of that night still lingers vividly in your mind, more so when your dates leave you staring at the ceiling, wondering where things went wrong. you’re at the akademiya, seated at a study table under the soft, golden light of a desk lamp.

kaveh sits across from you, gesturing animatedly, a frustrated yet passionate artist explaining his latest design concepts. alhaitham sits beside you, quiet but ever-present, nose buried in a book, his occasional interjections laced with sharp wit aimed squarely at kaveh’s more extravagant claims.

"listen," kaveh says, leaning forward, his blonde hair falling slightly into his eyes. "do you know how hard it is to convince some people that aesthetics and functionality can coexist? alhaitham, for example, wouldn't know—"

"they can coexist," alhaitham interrupts, not looking up from his book. "but not when your design priorities lean toward creating monuments to your own ego."

you laugh, the sound drawing both of their gazes to you. kaveh’s annoyed expression softens, while alhaitham finally looks up from his book, his usual unreadable mask slipping just slightly.

"maybe if you stopped bickering for five minutes, i could help you settle this debate," you suggest, playfully bumping alhaitham’s arm. he looks at where your elbow touched his sleeve, then back to your face, the faintest twitch of a smile on his lips.

"unlikely," he says, but his tone lacks its usual sharpness.

kaveh groans. "honestly, how do you even put up with him? the man has the emotional range of a piece of petrified wood."

"better than being a storm of emotions no one asked for," alhaitham counters smoothly, making you laugh again.

the tension between them eases slightly at the sound, though neither of them would admit it. for a brief moment, there’s a silent understanding between the three of you, a shared connection that feels warm and unspoken. it’s a moment you’d later remember with a pang of nostalgia during one of your many failed dates—a reminder of the comfort and ease you find in their presence, even amid their constant bickering.

the night stretches on, and kaveh’s complaints blur into alhaitham’s occasional quips, you catch them both stealing glances at you when they think you’re not looking. kaveh’s gaze is warm, like sunlight filtering through leaves, while alhaitham’s lingers, as if trying to decipher a puzzle he hasn’t yet solved.

it’s a memory that clings to you, even as you sit through yet another disastrous date.

—

you pushed the side of the door open, being careful and slow with your movements as if that would magically make alhaitham and kaveh not notice you.

the door swung open, revealing the dimly lit interior of your apartment, a wave of apprehension washed over you like a cold, unforgiving tide. and there they were, just as you had feared—alhaitham and kaveh, sitting opposite of each other on the couch, their expressions a curious mix of concern and amusement.

alhaitham, ever the observant one, wore a knowing smirk on his face, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he met your gaze. he didn't need to hear your explanation—he knew exactly what had transpired during your date, and he was more than eager to tease you about it.

suppressing a sigh, you mustered up a weak smile, steeling yourself for the inevitable barrage of questions and teasing remarks that were sure to follow. "hey guys," you greeted, "i'm back."

kaveh nodded his head, his expression more subdued than alhaitham's, yet no less filled with concern. "welcome back," he murmured, his tone gentle. "how'd the date go? judging by the looks of it..."

his voice trailed off as he observed your face, you were clearly upset. "it didn't go well. you didn't call me or kaveh because you knew that we would scold you, right? did you really think that i wouldn't know?"

alhaitham's words were abrupt and caught you off guard. you swallowed the lump in your throat before letting your eyes rest and nod your head hesitantly, you were just going to blurt out everything.

"you're right. i just... look i'm sorry that i never listen to you guys, i know you guys care about me and i never listened to your advice and—"

you were cut off by the sudden sensation of a warm palm cupping your cheek. your eyes peeled open and to your shock alhaitham was right there, right in front of you. his face just inches away from yours.

caught off guard by alhaitham's sudden gesture, you froze in place, your breath catching in your throat as his warm hands cupped your cheeks gently. his touch sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a flutter of butterflies in the pit of your stomach as you met his sharp gaze with wide eyes.

his eyes held a warmth and intensity that sent your heart racing, a faint blush painting his cheeks in a delicate shade of pink. have you ever seen him so flustered before?

words failed you as you searched for something, anything, to say in response to his unexpected display of affection. the air between you crackled with unspoken tension.

there was a pregnant pause, and before you knew it alhaitham's lips parted, his voice a soft murmur that sent shivers down your spine. "i've been wanting to do this for a while," he admitted, his tone laced with longing.

a rush of emotions surged within you—confusion, excitement, love… lust. you had always harboured a deep affection for alhaitham (and kaveh), a connection that transcended the boundaries of friendship, yet you had never dared to voice your true feelings, fearing that the confession would change your friendship for the worse.

kaveh's sudden intervention shattered the intimacy between you and alhaitham, leaving a palpable tension hanging in the air. as kaveh placed his hand on alhaitham's shoulder, his glare bore into his roommate with intensity.

"i thought we agreed that we would take this slow," kaveh's voice was low and laced with a hint of frustration, "and that i could do the first move?!"

take this slow? kaveh doing the first move? what did he mean by that? were they planning something?

alhaitham remained silent, his focus unwavering as his eyes remained locked on you, his expression unreadable as his gaze roamed your face with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine.

you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the intensity of his scrutiny stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you.

in that moment of hesitation, uncertainty gripped you like a vice, squeezing tight around your chest as you struggled to make sense of the tangled web of emotions unravelling before you. a part of you longed to just smash your lips against his.

but another part of you wants to push him away, you knew someone like alhaitham or kaveh wouldn't be interested in you, absolutely no way and chance. maybe alhaitham just had no sense of space? no it couldn't be... alhaitham was always cautious of the space between the both of you.

as the seconds ticked by, the weight of your decision bore down upon you like a heavy burden, you spoke up, breaking the tense silence that hung between you and your roommates. "i... guys?" you began, your voice trembling slightly. "what..."

your voice trailed off as your eyes flickered between alhaitham's and kaveh's, your eyes said more than enough. kaveh sighed, glaring at alhaitham once more before removing his hand from the pearl-grey-haired roommate's shoulder.

kaveh’s glare softened as he turned his gaze back to you, his expression shifting to something almost… vulnerable. he hesitated, but his eyes held a warmth that sent a flutter through your chest, despite your earlier doubts.

"look," kaveh said, softer now, "i wanted to tell you how i felt for a long time. i was just… scared, i guess." he let out a small, nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "i didn't want to mess things up. we’ve all been living together for so long, and i thought, if i just took my time, maybe you’d—"

"maybe you’d what?" alhaitham cut in, his voice calm yet firm, though his gaze softened as he glanced between you and kaveh. "kaveh, you were dragging this out. i was tired of waiting for you to make a move." he then looked at you, his gaze piercing, his voice a low murmur. "but you have a say in this too."

both their eyes were on you now, waiting, and you felt a wave of vulnerability crashing over you. part of you was ready to tell them to forget it, to insist it was impossible that two people like them could actually feel anything for you. but that other part—that part that had wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you and alhaitham moments earlier—begged you to take this chance.

heart pounding, you took a shaky breath and decided to lay everything bare. “i thought… you two were just teasing me all this time. like this was some kind of game.”

kaveh’s face softened as he reached out, his fingers grazing yours, sparking something electric between you. “it was never a game, not for me,” he murmured, voice low and rough with barely contained longing. “i’ve wanted you for so long. every time i held back, every time i watched you with him… it drove me crazy.” he shot a glance at alhaitham, his jaw clenched, before looking back at you, his eyes intense, burning with something raw.

alhaitham’s gaze was unwavering, filled with a hunger that sent a rush through you. he stepped closer, his fingers brushing your cheek, tilting your face to meet his gaze. “i don’t share easily,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “but for you… i’d rather share than let you go.”

the weight of their words crashed into you, heat pooling in your chest, spreading through your veins as you struggled to process the intensity of their confessions. your heart hammered as their gazes bore into you, each one daring you to respond, to give in to the passion simmering between you.

“i don’t want you to walk away,” you breathed, barely able to get the words out, your voice trembling with anticipation. the moment you said it, their expressions shifted—like wolves finally catching sight of their prey.

kaveh let out a shaky exhale, stepping in close, so close you could feel his warm breath against your skin. “so… you’re really choosing both of us?” his tone was teasing, but the edge of desperation was clear as he reached for your hand, squeezing it, his gaze dark with want. 

alhaitham’s lips quirked into the barest hint of a smirk as he leaned down, his mouth ghosting over yours, sending a shiver down your spine. “good,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a murmur. “because i’ve been waiting far too long for this.” then his lips met yours, not gentle this time but demanding, claiming you with a passion that left you breathless. his hand tangled in your hair, pulling you close, deepening the kiss as if he wanted to drown in you.

the kiss ended, but your head was spinning, your breath shallow as kaveh took his turn. he didn’t hesitate, capturing your lips in a heated, needy kiss, his hands gripping your waist, pressing you against him as he let out a low groan against your mouth. he kissed you like he’d been starved, pouring every bit of pent-up desire and frustration into that kiss, his fingers digging into your skin like he never wanted to let go.

as they pulled back, their gazes seared into you, hot and possessive, leaving you trembling and flushed. alhaitham’s hand found your chin, lifting it to meet his gaze again. “we’re not holding back anymore,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “you’re ours now. understand?”

you swallowed, nodding, feeling the intensity of their words settle deep inside you. every inch of you was alive, buzzing with the thrill of finally being theirs.

kaveh’s fingers tightened around your waist as he pulled you closer, pressing his body flush against yours, his mouth moving with a fierce, desperate hunger. each kiss from him was deeper, rougher, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, and couldn’t stand the thought of letting you go for even a second. his hands slid up your sides, feeling, exploring, setting every nerve on fire.

alhaitham’s hand slipped under your chin, turning your face toward him as kaveh’s lips left a trail along your neck. his gaze held a dark intensity, his eyes blazing as he lowered his mouth to yours once more, this time with a slow, tantalizing hunger that made you melt against him.

his kiss was deep and claiming, his hand tangling in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp. he broke away just enough to murmur against your lips, his voice low and possessive. “tonight, you’re not leaving either of us.”

they moved as one, guiding you backwards, step by step until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. you barely had a chance to react before kaveh’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly and lowering you onto the sheets. he climbed over you, his breath heavy and uneven, his eyes fixed on you with a need that made you shiver.

alhaitham was right beside him, his gaze roaming over you, drinking in every inch with a dark, dangerous smirk that sent a thrill through you. his hand slipped to your shoulder, pushing you back onto the bed as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your collarbone, sending waves of heat through you.

“we’ve waited long enough,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. his hand drifted over your waist, firm and possessive as if to remind you exactly where you belonged. “and we’re not stopping until we’ve had our fill.”

kaveh’s hands roamed over your sides, his touch both soothing and electrifying, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that left you breathless, completely lost in him. you felt his fingers trace down to your hips, his touch growing bolder, needier, as he let out a low, throaty groan against your mouth. he pulled back, his face inches from yours, his voice husky with desire. “i’m not letting you go, not tonight.”

their hands intertwined as they held you between them, their breaths coming faster, hotter, their gazes locked on you with an intensity that made you feel utterly exposed.

their hands moved in unison, each touch lighting up every nerve as they explored, learning each curve, each reaction that drove you to the edge of your senses. alhaitham’s fingers trailed down your collarbone, pressing firmly as if marking you, his lips following close behind, leaving a scorching path along your skin. he moved with a confidence that left you dizzy, his gaze locked on yours with a look that was both possessive and admiring, making you feel utterly consumed.

kaveh, on the other hand, was all fervent energy, his hands eagerly roaming over you, his touch alternating between gentle caresses and firm grips, as though he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t believe you were actually there with him. his eyes met yours, softening for a moment, before he leaned in close, his voice a low, heated murmur in your ear. “i wanted this for so long... didn’t think i’d ever get the chance.”

their hands intertwined as they hovered over you, each touch driving you deeper into a haze of desire, their combined warmth pressing in on every side. alhaitham’s hand slid around to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he leaned down, his lips barely grazing yours before capturing them in a slow, searing kiss that stole your breath.

he pulled back only to press a trail of kisses down your jaw, his hand sliding down to meet kaveh’s as they both moved over you, their touches merging, amplifying, until you were lost in them.

the way they worked together, each knowing instinctively how to push you further, was overwhelming, every movement calculated to keep you teetering on the edge. alhaitham’s smirk flickered at the sight of you, utterly undone, and kaveh’s smile softened, his eyes dark with desire and a hint of wonder. 

“you’re ours,” kaveh whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his lips grazing your ear before pressing a kiss there. “no more waiting, no more doubts. just us.”

the words hit you like a tidal wave, their weight sinking into your chest and filling every hollow corner of your heart. you couldn’t help but feel your legs tremble, though whether from the intensity of their presence or the truth of kaveh’s confession, you weren’t sure.

alhaitham, ever the steady one, noticed immediately, his arm wrapping securely around your waist to keep you grounded. his touch was firm yet tender, anchoring you to the moment while kaveh’s words pulled you further into an ocean of emotions.

kaveh’s hand moved to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek in a gesture so gentle it nearly made you break down. “do you know how long we’ve waited?” he asked softly, his honeyed voice trembling just enough to betray his own vulnerability. “how long have we watched you chase after things you didn’t need because you were too scared to see what was right in front of you?”

the words brought forth a flood of memories, moments you’d tried to bury in the recesses of your mind because they felt too intimate, too confusing. you thought back to that time in the akademiya library when you had worked late into the night, determined to finish your research. kaveh had arrived first, arms laden with snacks and tea, a dramatic sigh escaping him as he plopped into the chair beside you.

“you’ll burn yourself out like this,” he had said, offering you a bite of his food as though it was the most natural thing in the world. his hand had brushed yours when you reached for the tea, lingering just a second too long. 

then alhaitham had joined, quiet as always, slipping a warm blanket around your shoulders with an almost imperceptible sigh. “if you’re going to work yourself to death, at least have the decency not to catch a cold,” he’d said, but his hand had stayed on your shoulder a beat longer, giving it a squeeze that spoke volumes.

at the time, you’d chalked it up to kindness, their unique ways of looking out for you. but now, standing here with both of them, you realized how much of their affection had been buried beneath subtleties you’d chosen to ignore. 

—

“i can feel you overthinking,” alhaitham’s voice cut through your haze, sharp yet not unkind. he tilted your chin with two fingers, his piercing teal gaze meeting yours. “stop it. you’re here now, with us. that’s all that matters.”

kaveh let out a soft laugh, though it carried an undercurrent of frustration. “you really do make things harder than they need to be, you know that?” he teased, though the tenderness in his expression betrayed his words. “running off on all those pointless dates... what were you even trying to find, huh?”

heat crept up your neck at the mention of your failed attempts at dating. you looked down, only to have kaveh gently nudge your chin upward with a finger. “look at me,” he said, and his voice was so soft, so unbearably full of emotion, that you couldn’t resist. “you didn’t need any of them. you never did. did you think we wouldn’t notice? that we wouldn’t care?”

the vulnerability in his question broke something inside you. “i didn’t think... i didn’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i thought i was just—someone to bicker with, someone to tease. i didn’t think i meant that much to either of you.”

kaveh’s eyes widened briefly, shock and something deeper flickering across his face. “you didn’t think—” he cut himself off with a disbelieving laugh, though there was no humor in it. “you’re everything to us,” he said, and the rawness in his tone made your chest tighten. “do you have any idea how much you mean to me? to us?”

alhaitham’s hand slid to the back of your neck, grounding you once more. his touch was steady, reassuring. “we’ve waited long enough,” he said, his voice low but firm, his teal gaze unwavering. “you’re ours now. there’s no need to run anymore.”

the truth of his words settled over you like a blanket, warm and inescapable. memories of their quiet devotion played in your mind like a reel. kaveh dragging you out for “fresh air” after a particularly grueling day, his arm slung casually around your shoulders but his concern evident in the way he kept glancing at your face. alhaitham staying up with you during a storm, his usual stoicism giving way to a quiet patience as he read aloud to distract you from the howling winds. they had always been there, waiting, even when you didn’t realize it. 

—

“you don’t have to keep fighting it,” kaveh murmured, his lips brushing your forehead. “let us take care of you for once.”

“don’t give them a choice,” alhaitham added dryly, though the smirk on his lips was softened by the way his fingers caressed the side of your neck. “we’ve already decided.”

you laughed softly, the sound shaky but genuine. “you two really are impossible,” you muttered, but there was no malice in your words—only affection, deep and unrelenting.

“and yet, you’re still here,” kaveh pointed out with a grin, his hand finding yours and squeezing it. “which means you’re stuck with us. so stop running, and let us love you the way you deserve.”

the tears you hadn’t realized were building finally spilled over, but they weren’t tears of sadness. as kaveh’s lips met yours, warm and insistent, and alhaitham pressed his forehead against yours, grounding you in his steady presence, you felt something shift. the weight of doubt and fear melted away, leaving only the overwhelming truth: you were theirs. entirely, irrevocably theirs. 

kaveh’s lips found yours next, his kiss softer but no less intoxicating, filled with an urgency that made your knees weak. his fingers tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing into yours while alhaitham’s hands explored your curves, his touch firm and deliberate. “you’ve always been ours,” kaveh whispered against your lips. “you just needed to realize it.”

“and now you will,” alhaitham added, his voice steady but carrying a dangerous edge. his teeth grazed your jawline, sending another shiver through you. “we’ll make sure of it.”

your body melted between them, every nerve alight as they overwhelmed you with their presence. kaveh’s lips moved back to your neck, and his tongue flicked against a sensitive spot that made you gasp. alhaitham smirked at your reaction, his hands finding the curve of your waist and pulling you flush against him. “so sensitive,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

kaveh chuckled, his breath warm against your skin. “let us spoil you,” he said, his tone softening but his grip on you unwavering. “let us show you how it feels to be truly adored.”

your hands clutched at their shirts, grounding yourself as the heat between you all grew unbearable. their touches, their words, the way they worked together—it was dizzying, intoxicating, and everything you hadn’t known you needed. with every kiss, every touch, they erased your doubts, replaced them with a certainty you could no longer deny.

kaveh lingers there, lost in the sensation, nuzzling into the soft heat of your belly as if it were his lifeline. suddenly, he lifted his head up, moving closer to your breasts, you watched him impatiently, and just before you could speak, his tongue traced your sensitive buds, and a shiver ran down your spine.

his hot breath tickled your skin as he slowly dragged his lips over each tiny bud. you let out a soft gasp, my hands coming up to tangle in his hair. "fuck, that feels so good," you moaned, arching into his touch.

“wait, it’s my first time…” your hands place themselves over his shoulders, heat rushed to your cheeks at the lewd scene before you.

kaveh gazes into your eyes, his expression softening with tender affection as he cups your face in his larger hands "i promise to be gentle with you, darling. this is a special moment for us, and i want it to be perfect." his thumbs stroke along your cheekbones as he leans in to place a sweet, lingering kiss on your lips. "just breathe deeply and focus on the pleasure... let me take care of everything else."

he quickly dips his head, the soft hums of pleasure escaped his lips as he trails hot kisses along your sensitive nipples, lapping at the hardened nubs with a flick of his tongue. his hand kneads your breast, fingers sinking into the supple flesh as he pinches and rolls her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

as he takes one nipple into his mouth, suckling greedily as he flicks his tongue rapidly over the bud. he grazes the sensitive skin with his teeth, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core. his other hand braces against the mattress, supporting his weight as he presses closer, his rigid length grinding against your thigh.

releasing your nipple from his mouth with a wet pop, a string of saliva connected with his lips to the abused bud. he blazes a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your body, nipping and sucking at the smooth skin of your stomach before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants. “wait–”

with a tug, he yanks your pants and panties down your legs, baring your glistening folds to his hungry gaze. he takes a moment to admire the sight, his cock throbbing with need. he watches it for a couple of seconds, completely entranced and mesmerised before diving in to feast on your cunt. his tongue delves between your slick lips, lapping up the sweet essence as he holds your hips steady with bruising force.

all the while, alhaitham watches from the side, his palm resting behind your neck as he turns your head towards him, crashing his needy lips onto yours, brows furrowed as he kissed you impatiently.

kaveh moans softly at the sight of your perfect tits, the way your body shivered and trembled with each lick. his mouth waters at the scent of your arousal permeating the air. without hesitation, he buries his face deeper in your pussy. he licks a broad stripe up your slit, swirling around your clit before plunging his tongue deep inside your tight hole.

muffled gurgles emanate from his throat as he worships your cunt, slurping on your juices greedily. his eyes are transfixed on the mesmerizing dance of your engorged clit peeking out from beneath its hood, begging for attention. he obeys, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves mercilessly with the tip of his tongue, making sure to catch every drop of your ambrosia.

his hands roam higher to fondle your breasts at the sounds of your praise and moans. "ohhh f-fuuuckkk! yes, just like that!" your shameless moans fill the room as he feasts on your sopping cunt. you writhe against the mattress, grinding your dripping core against his eager mouth. "don't stop, mmmnnn!" you cry out wantonly, throwing your head back in ecstasy. your hand's fist in his hair, holding him tight against you.

your thighs quake around his ears as his tongue works you over, stoking the fires burning in your loins higher and higher. "oh god, yessss!! right fucking there! ahn…!" the intense waves crash over you, threatening to drown you whole. he doesn't let up though, fucking your convulsing channel with long, hard laps of his tongue as your cunt clamps down around him, milking him for everything he has.

before you've even begun coming down, he surges forward and crashes his mouth to yours in a passionate, sloppy kiss. his whiskered cheek slides along yours as his musky scent invades your senses – equal parts salty-sweet from his kiss – bringing back up essence and uniquely man. the mingling scents and flavours of both of you mingle into one delicious medley you'd burn for.

still kissing you fiercely, he rolls your sensitive nubs. he pulls back from the kiss and you can clearly see how he smirks up at you with a wicked glint in his eyes, still savouring your shared flavour on his tongue. you gasp as he pulls back, his saliva mixing with your juices as he gazes hungrily down at your flushed face.

he glances down at your dishevelled appearance, noting the pearly essence dripping down your chin and neck. slowly, teasingly, he traces a finger through your sticky mess, collecting your release before bringing it to his lips. you whimper as he swirls his tongue around the digit, cleaning off the intimate proof of your mutual satisfaction.

without warning, he grips your hips and spins you around, pushing you face-first against the dirtied sheets. your legs wobble slightly from the aftershocks still rippling through you, but he holds you steady with one large hand resting between your shoulder blades.

his hard, heavy cock springs free from its confines, thick and veiny, already drooling with pre-cum. the head smears against your soaked entrance as he kicks your feet further apart. he groans, grinding the leaking tip along your slippery entrance. he teases the tip along your wet slit, coating himself in your slick arousal.

slowly, oh so slowly, he sinks into your welcoming heat, groaning low in his chest as your velvety walls stretch and accommodate his impressive girth. "fuck…” he begins with a shallow thrust, letting you feel every ridge and vein dragging against your fluttering walls, drawing a loud and erotic moan from you. 

once he bottoms out, he pauses, giving you a moment to adjust. then he starts to move again, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back in with a lewd squelch. he sets a deliberate pace, taking you slow and deep, relishing the way your cunt squeezes around his length. each thrust rocks you forward, his heavy balls slapping obscenely against your sensitive clit.

you’re pinned firmly against the bed as he fucks you, his hips pumping at a steady, torturous pace. the wet glide of your slick walls hugging his aching cock sends shivers racing up his spine.

"mmmph, unghh… you’re so tight—" kaveh groans quietly against your shoulder, hot breath puffing against your overheated skin. his hands skim lower to grip your full, rounded ass cheeks possessively, rolling the globes in his palm and kneading the flesh. he drives into you harder then, forcing the breath from your lungs with each powerful snap of his hips.

he slams into you harder and faster, his hips pistoning erratically as he chases his pleasure. the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes loudly in the bathroom, interspersed with your shameless moans.

"uunf! nngghh…!" he moans and whimpers are broken, lost in the feral rut. he bites down on your shoulder, leaving a vivid mark on your flawless skin as he continues to pound into you like a man possessed.

sweat beads on his brow and he grips your hips so hard bruises form, grinding you down onto his shaft as he rails you relentlessly. “f–fuck! cum for me…!” he demands breathlessly after hearing your moans grow erratic as he nears his peak.

suddenly, his entire body goes taut as a bowstring. with a guttural groan, he slams into you one last time and explodes, flooding your spasming walls with jet after jet. he pulls out of you abruptly, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. before you can protest, he flips you over onto your back and settles his weight on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head.

he’s breathless, his chest heaving up and down almost in sync with yours, his eyes trailed around your clit, drinking in the sight of your naked body splayed out.

at that moment, alhaitham places his hand over kaveh’s chest, successfully moving the tired man out of his way, kaveh whines but slumps down beside you, lazily groping your breasts.

alhaitham hooks his hands under your thighs and pushes them back towards your chest, folding you nearly in half and exposing your dripping cunt to his hungry gaze before trailing a single finger through your slick folds and circling your swollen clit. at his touch you whined, legs quivering.

“fuck me,” you breathed, adding a small whine to it. he releases your wrists and grips your hips once again, the tip of his girthy cock nudging insistently at your entrance. with one swift thrust, he sheathes himself fully inside you, stretching you deliciously around his pulsing length. he lets you adjust for only a moment before setting a ruthless pace, pounding into you with animalistic abandon. the sounds of the obscene slaps of flesh and your increasingly high-pitched moans made it all the more lewd.

the new angle allows him to hit that spot deep inside you with each punishing stroke, sending you into complete bliss. at his command, his powerful hips stutter before finding a new, unhurried rhythm. he continues thrusting slowly yet forcefully, working his massive cock deeper into your clinging heat. “nghhhh..."

the renewed slowness allows him to fully explore the intimate clutch of your pussy as it grips his throbbing length. each languorous slide has his shaft nestling against the fluttering ridges and bumps that line your most sensitive canal. he swivels his hips sinuously, grinding his swollen tip against the hidden spongy spot deep within you with every withdrawal and penetration.

a fresh rush of tingling warmth starts building at the base of his spine as he picks up steam once more, the sensations growing more intense by degrees. your eyes practically roll behind your eyes at the euphoric feeling, your moans bounced along with every thrust of his long cock. “fuccckkk, more.. please..!”

he continues his unhurried, sensual rhythm as the last vestiges of your shared climax fade, your bodies still intimately entwined. his shaft pulses lazily inside you, twitching in time with each roll of his hips. slowly, the intensity ebbs, replaced by languid aftershocks wracking your frames.

you both shared your breaths, sweat, juices and cum all mixed together everywhere, on both your skin and the bed, he leans down your face, pressing feather-light kisses along your sweat-dampened collarbone. “you like that?” he groans into your ear as he grips your hips tightly, his claws digging into your soft flesh as he pounds into you relentlessly.

the wet slapping sounds of skin on skin fill the room, punctuated by his guttural grunts and your high-pitched moans."fuck yes, take it all…" he snarls, his voice dripping with lust and dominance."your tight little cunt was made for my cock, wasn't it? tell me how much you love being used like the cum dump you are" alhaitham’s pace becomes even more frenzied, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his release.

he reaches around to roughly grope your breasts, ignoring the whines and complaints from kaveh, pinching and twisting your nipples as he continues to pound into you. "gonna fill you up...breed this hungry pussy...mark you as mine," he growls, his words becoming more disjointed as pleasure overwhelms him.

with a forceful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you. Leaning in close, his hot breath fans across your ear as he begins to move, setting a punishing pace. his voice is low and husky as he whispers, "you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, such a tight little pussy, gripping me like you never want to let go. you're mine to use, to fuck, to fill. i'm going to ruin you for anyone else." his hips snap against yours relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the room. he continues his filthy litany in your ear, punctuating each thrust with a growled word. "take. it. all."

your cries of pleasure echo through the room, the thrusts were too aggressive, too harsh, too much. but you liked it. kaveh slides in behind you, nestling his thick shaft between your ass cheeks. he grinds against you teasingly while alhaitham continues to relentlessly pound your pussy from the front. kaveh’s hands roam over your body, pinching your nipples and trailing down to circle your clit.

"such a greedy little girl," he growls in your ear. "two cocks and you still want more? let's see how much you can really take."With that, he lines himself up with your puckered rear entrance and slowly pushes inside, stretching you deliciously as he fills you completely. you're now stuffed full of cock from both ends, caught between two muscular bodies using you for their pleasure. the sensations are overwhelming as they begin to move in tandem, fucking you relentlessly.

alhaitham’s relentless pounding from the front shows no signs of letting up, his powerful thrusts driving you wild with pleasure. meanwhile, kaveh behind you moves at a much more languid pace, savoring every inch of your stretched hole as he lazily pushes in and out. "Mmm, so tight...like a warm velvet glove around my cock," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear as he nibbles on your lobe.

your moans grow louder and more wanton as these contrasting sensations overwhelm your senses. you can feel alhaitham shaft throbbing inside you, hitting all the right spots with each forceful stroke. behind him, kaveh’s slow drag provokes electric tingles that make you clench reflexively around both cocks. "ohhh fuck yes! just like that!" you cry out desperately. The dual penetration is too much to bear for long.

“‘s—s too much!” tears welled up in your eyes at both the pleasure and pain of both their cocks in you, you were getting overstimulated, it hurt so good. “s—slow down! ah…!” alhaitham’s thrusts slow slightly at your desperate plea, but he still manages to hit all the right spots inside you. he leans down to capture a tear rolling down your cheek with his tongue, savoring the salty taste. "shh, it's okay baby...i know i'm being rough. but you're so fucking perfect like this," he murmurs against your skin as he continues to move within you at a slightly more measured pace.

kaveh behind slows his movements as well, allowing you a moment of respite before picking up again in time with alhaitham’s renewed rhythm. the sensations are almost too much to bear now—the deep stretch and drag from behind contrasting beautifully with the relentless pounding in front. "nnngh...so good..." you whimper, overwhelmed by pleasure and emotion.

as your climax hits, your inner walls clench and ripple around both alhaitham and kaveh still-throbbing shaft. the sensation pushes them over the edge as well. " fuck yes! cumming so deep inside you...!" with a guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt and unloads, his hot seed flooding your spasming pussy in long spurts. kaveh soon  follows suit moments later, grinding against your ass as he fills you with his own release. his warm cum coats your insides along with alhaitham’s, creating an intimate mix of their essences within you.

alhaitham carefully eases out of your still quivering heat, watching transfixed as his release slowly leaks out to trickle between your thighs. he scoops up some of the creamy fluid and brings it to his lips, humming appreciatively at the taste.

“ah.. alhaitham give me—give me a moment—” you breathed, trying to catch your breath after the intense session. “but i need to clean up your mess, look how dirty you are” he chuckled. He can clearly see how your eyes widen at your words, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. he takes in your thoroughly debauched appearance with hungry, satisfied eyes before nodding.

slowly, he lowers himself off you onto his hands and knees behind you as he reaches beneath you to run two large fingers through the mess of slickness leaking from your freshly-fucked hole. lapping his fingers clean with kittenish swipes of his tongue, he gives your sensitive bud one final teasing flick that has you bucking back into the bed. crawling onto the mattress with cat-like grace, he positions the swollen head of his shaft at your fluttering opening.

alhaitham grins mischievously as he teases your slick entrance with the tip of his cock, spreading your juices around in a tantalizing display. his eyes gleam with dark hunger as he watches you squirm beneath him. "mmm, look at that...my cum leaking out of your greedy hole already. you can't get enough, can you?" he chuckles lowly and slowly pushes forward, sinking into you once more.

“i—i don’t think i can take another round…” you breathed, face flushed with sweat slicken strands of hair stuck on your forehead.

“this is just the beginning," he purrs, resuming his sensual rhythm as he claims you again. alhaitham’s hips undulate against yours in a slow dance of pleasure, each deliberate thrust sending ripples through your connected bodies. "i’m going to fuck this pussy all night long until it's raw and sore from my cock."

kaveh stretches out beside you on the bed, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he watches alhaitham work your pussy over once more. he reaches out to lazily stroke your sweat-dampened skin, tracing patterns along your curves. "you two enjoy each other so much," he muses, his voice low and content. "i think i'll just lie here and watch...for now." He settles in comfortably, propping himself up on one elbow to continue admiring the erotic display before him.

alhaitham seems perfectly happy with this arrangement, continuing his slow but thorough fucking of your willing body. His thrusts grow slightly more urgent as he feels kaveh’s gaze upon them, driving him to make the most of their moment together.

his eyes flash with a predatory gleam as he hears your soft whimpers, his cock twitching within you in anticipation. "mmm, i’ve craved this moment for so long," he growls, his voice low and husky with desire.

"you don’t know how long i’ve been wanting to be in this pussy...every inch of that luscious body. and i'm going to take my time savoring each delicious moment." he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep into your mouth as he continues to move inside you at a slow, deliberate pace.

“i'll fuck you until dawn breaks," he promises against your lips, "and even then maybe not be done exploring every sweet spot on this perfect pussy." his hands roam over your curves possessively as he speaks, mapping the terrain of your skin like an explorer claiming new lands.

“all night long…”

—

a few weeks later, the sun shone through the curtains of your cozy shared apartment, its golden rays highlighting the organized chaos within. a half-finished bookshelf project leaned against the wall (kaveh’s idea, naturally), while alhaitham’s books were scattered across the coffee table in a way that made your neat-freak self twitch. it was a scene of domestic tranquility, punctuated by the occasional bickering that had somehow become oddly endearing.

kaveh was in the kitchen, attempting to cook breakfast—a noble endeavor that would inevitably end with alhaitham stepping in to prevent the fire alarm from going off. you sat cross-legged on the couch, watching the spectacle unfold with a mug of tea in your hands.

“this doesn’t need your interference, alhaitham!” kaveh snapped, waving a spatula threateningly as alhaitham leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his expression as unimpressed as ever.

“i’m merely ensuring we don’t end up eating charcoal,” alhaitham replied coolly, reaching over to adjust the stove’s temperature.

“can you two not start world war three before i’ve had breakfast?” you asked, trying to suppress your laughter.

they both turned to you at the same time, as if suddenly realizing you were watching them with that fond look you couldn’t quite hide.

“we’re not fighting,” kaveh said quickly, though his defensive tone was softened by his sheepish grin.

“it’s just a discussion,” alhaitham added, though the faintest twitch of a smile betrayed him.

you set your mug down and walked over, slipping yourself between them. “whether it’s fighting or discussing, i’m calling a truce. we’re all having breakfast together, and no one’s allowed to sabotage it.”

kaveh gave you a mock salute, while alhaitham raised an eyebrow but gave a slight nod of agreement.

later, the three of you sat around the dining table, sharing a surprisingly decent meal that kaveh had insisted on plating himself.

“this is nice,” you said, glancing between them with a contented smile.

alhaitham looked at you from over his book, which he’d brought to the table despite kaveh’s protests. “i suppose it is.”

“you suppose?” kaveh scoffed, though there was no real heat in his voice.

you laughed, leaning back in your chair as a warm sense of belonging settled over you. it wasn’t perfect—there were still arguments, quirks, and a lot to figure out—but it was yours.

and as kaveh started another impassioned rant about alhaitham’s lack of appreciation for the “art” of cooking, you realized you wouldn’t have it any other way.

note: wowie this is the first time i've written quite a long smutty fanfic ever, what an experience.

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

another note: if you found any spelling/grammar mistakes PLEASE tell me (i don't want to be embarrassed)

[poguehearted77]

Hi!! I saw that your requests were open and I'm a big fan of your work and I was wondering if you could write something for rafe where reader is a pogue and they need to steal something from tanney hill but Rafe comes home unexpectedly and reader is supposed to distract him but they end up fucking >.< tyyy!!!

Oooh this is freaky. I love it.

My requests are still open.

smut!! -> >.<, penetrative sex, rafe gets flashed, dom! rafe, missionary, size kink, tummy bulge, rafe doesn't pull out..

In and out. That was the plan you and Sarah had agreed on. She would search through the office while you guarded the halls to make sure the coast remained clear.

Things got complicated. Plans changed when Sarah realized that Rafe had taken the liberty to add locks onto the cabinets where the files are kept. Your heartbeat drummed through your ears as you noticed the flash of headlights from Rafe's truck shine through the glass windows.

"Shit. Sarah, Rafe's back early. ETA on the files?" you panic, scurrying through the tiles halls until your feet take you into the office where the blonde crouched, picking the lock with a bobby pin. "I've almost got it. Distract Rafe, keep him as far from here as possible."

Your legs carried you as fast as they could, hoping to meet him outside the front door but he was already inside, your head bumping into his firm chest at full force, sending you tumbling to the ground. "Holy shit. What the-" He's mid-curse when he notices the face of the intruder. Your face.

"Y/n? What the hell are you doing in here?" His thoughts beat your lips to the answer as they geared the possibilities. His jaw locks as it dawns on him, "Where's Sarah, huh? Is she in here? You helping her steal from me now too?"

His steps are powerful as they begin to clear the premises but you desperately grab onto his bulging biceps. "No, Rafe! Stop." Not expecting him to obey so easily, he whips around, startling you.

Just over his shoulder, you see Sarah's head peek out of the office. She gives a wave with the needed files in hand. You had to make sure Rafe didn't turn around, at all costs.

"I thought you were different, y'know? I always thought you were too good to be hangin' with those pogues-" He's about to turn around while Sarah sneaks out the back. You do the first idiotic thing that comes to mind. Your fingers are hooking under the fabric of your top and heaving upwards to flash him your tits.

His sentences break off into chopped, undecided stutters and his hands slowly reach for your round mounds. His hands were hesitating until you gave him a slight nod. "H-holy shit. Most fuckin' perfect pair of tits I've ever seen." His mind is racing to catch up with his hands that gently massage your breasts and you let out a soft moan.

That's the last time either of your clothes were still draped across your bodies. The interaction was quickly followed by uncalculated steps and heated kisses toward the couch where he'd laid you down and fucked you dumb.

"You feel that?" Rafe relishes in the depths of your soaked cunt that sucked in his generous length. Summoning him to a state of bliss, serving a sentence he wished would last the rest of his lifetime.

His hand is placed arrogantly on your lower abdomen where the outline of his girth could be seen pushing up against your insides. Surely, the question is rhetorical as you'd been reduced to a whimpering mess under his touch.

"My dick's splittin' you open. You fuckin' like that shit?" His hips snap, and you squeal, your whole body jolting with every moment of his much bigger one. The sight of you beneath him was more than enough to get him riding along the edge of ecstasy.

"You got the best fuckin' pussy on the island, goddamnit." His lower lip is tucked between hiss teeth, doing his best to hold himself back.

Rafe wouldn't deny any allegations of previously imagining having you in this very position, but the reality puts the products of his imagination to great shame. "R-rafe!" You moan, unbelievably turned on by your 'sworn enemy'.

"Yeah-- shit. Me too." It's not long before his thrusts begin to falter with strained grunts but added force, and he cums not long after you do. He slowly pulls out, admiring the stringy white cum that kept you connected before he realizes what he's done.

"Rafe..." You slowly sit up, dreading the consequences of his actions. "Fuck--I know, shit. I jus' got so caught up- and your pussy jus' felt so good. I wasn't thinking straight." You're both scavenging to get your clothes on as he rambles on.

He reaches into his back pocket and grabs a wad of cash, "Go get a plan B, and we can both act like this never happened, okay?" With a cold gaze, you pocket the money before rushing outside where the Twinkie is waiting for you around the corner out of sight.

"Y/n! Oh my god what took you so long? We thought Rafe had done something to you." Sarah gasps once you finally pull open the doors of the van. Your head shakes, "Nothing. Just Rafe being Rafe, let's go."

[therealbeachfox]

"Why do we make laser grids like these?" came the chirp from across the table.

"What do you mean?" Otto responded without looking up.

"I mean, instead of a messy random arrangement of lasers that a nimble intruder might be able to jump through, why not a simple grid wall with no gaps large enough to allow a person to pass?"

Otto sighed heavily and looked up from the blueprints he'd been amending and reworking to focus on his nephew. One of his nephews. One of his multitude of nephews because none of his siblings understood the concept of wrapping it up. He was at Mykola's place, so probably one of his. Too young to be Aiden, too old to be Eric. A, B, C... Connor? Conway? Conrad? One of those. At that extra annoying age where they're too curious for their own good, and have started to believe they actually know something, so get real argumentative about it when you prove they don't.

There's a reason why Otto didn't have kids. Or deal with kids. And tried to talk the Boss out of putting kids into his deathtraps. Fucking kids. Ugh.

"Because if we did that, it'd be impossible to get through." he said, hoping it'd satisfy the kid.

"But isn't that what you're trying to do?" Mykola's boy had his head twisted around to try and look at the blueprints from his uncle's perspective and was tracing out the twisting pathways with his eyes. "This whole thing is a giant 'You Can't Get In Here' tunnel. I don't understand why you're leaving holes in the security."

Well, the kid had actually asked, instead of just flat out stating that his way would be better. Otto grit his teeth and settled himself back for a proper lecture. "You're thinking too mundanely, kid." The boy looked up curiously and brushed a tangle of near-black hair out of his eyes. Slightly mollified, Otto continued. "This isn't like designing security for a bank or vault or something. This is something for my Boss. So we're already not designing like we would for the public sector, right?"

"Yeah? Yeah." Con-whatever agreed, though still looking just as confused.

"So, our issue is, whoever comes looking for whatever it is that the Boss is gonna put at the end of this is already going to be uniquely skilled and driven. Not just your average jewelry robbers or beat cops, right?"

"Right, yeah, you're going to be dealing with capes or cowls and stuff, sure. But wouldn't that mean you'd want it all extra locked down?" The kid was now looking directly at him. But with the intense look of someone who didn't understand but wanted to. It was by far more annoying than if the kid had just been flat-out disparaging of the whole process. Now Otto couldn't just tell him to shove off without feeling bad about it. Ugh.

"Well, here's the thing. If this was something the Boss really wanted to keep away from people, he'd have it put in some indistinguishable bank vault lock-box by a patsy that one of us underlings had hired through a third party, leaving two whole layers unaware of who even wanted the thing in there, and at least three whole layers who have no idea what the object even is besides. But he's not doing that, he's putting it at the end of a long tunnel of traps, alarms, and obstacles. Which means, what he wants is for whoever's coming after him to go through the whole thing. Which means it's gotta be at least theoretically possible to get through the whole thing. If you were a cowl and you came across a perfect laser grid that there was no way to squirm your way through and no way to work around, what would you do?"

Mykola's kid frowned down at the blueprints, eyebrows furrowed in tweenage concentration. "Start cutting through the walls, I guess. Either to find a way to cut the power, or to bypass the tunnel all toget-OH! Ooooooh, okay! I see, I see!" Otto grabbed the edge of the table to steady it as the kid started bouncing a little in his seat. "If you make it impossible, the cowls will start thinking outside the box and start looking for ways to end-run around the whole thing. If you make it difficult, but still possible, they're going to be too busy focusing on how to do the almost impossible thing so they're still playing by your Boss' rules instead of making up their own!"

Otto grunted and bit back the hint of a smile that wanted to cross his lips. Last thing he wanted to do was encourage the brat; then he'd be stuck answering questions all day. "Now you've got it. Make it hard enough that they waste as much time getting through it as possible without breaking out their bat-themed metal cutters or retreating and finding another way to come in altogether. Same reason why museums do it this way. Otherwise, the only way to get at shit would be to blow a hole in the floor, and that'd damage way more artifacts than whatever the thief was targeting originally."

"Okay, I think I totally get it. Is that why the HVAC ducts are big enough for sidekicks to get through? In case they can't work stuff out?"

Otto blinked and scowled back down at the blueprints to figure out what the kid was talking about, "No? No! I've got them as small as they can get without leaving the air rank, and we've got mesh grids every five feet just in case they try anyway."

The kid pointed down at one point in the blueprints and traced out a line that went way from one-third of the way through the hallway to right near the end, "Not on this one. And it's got this other branch that leads out to the bathrooms in the laundry mat you're using as a front, even!"

Otto squinted down at what the kid was pointing out. It was a second branch of the air circulation network, focused mainly on the above ground business, but with a few pipes down below ground as federally mandated backups to the system he'd been focusing on locking down. "No. That's not for the sidekicks." He growled and grabbed for an eraser and pencil and got to work grinding out alterations.

"Huh. So what about the-" the kid started.

"One thing at a time. Let me get this fixed, then you can ask the next one, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, okay!" The kid shrugged and grabbed up one of Otto's old notebooks that had the first iteration of designs for the Boss' main vault and started reading while kicking his legs.

Otto just ground his teeth and focused on his work. Only thing worse than a kid was a precociously bright kid with an honest interest in your work. Worse thing in the goddamn world.

He should message Mykola and let him know he needed to get one of his other kids to bring up snacks for the brat. He was at that age where he was going to get hungry long before Otto was done.

"Why do we make laser grids like these?" "What do you mean?" "I mean instead of a messy random arrangement of lasers that a nimble intruder might be able to jump through, why not a simple grid wall with no gaps large enough to allow a person to pass through?"

[gwendolynnderolo]

critical role ships as hozier songs

vax / keyleth : francesca

percy / vex : work song

pike / scanlan : foreigner's god

fjord / jester : nobody

beau / yasha : as it was

caleb / essek : from eden

imogen / laudna : NFWMB

orym / dorian : like real people do

ashton / fearne : dinner & diatribes

specific lyrics that i feel like represent the pairings under the cut!

vax / keyleth : francesca

how could you think, darling, i'd scare so easily?

my life was a storm, since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?

if i could hold you for a minute, darling, i'd go through it again

it was too soon, when that part of you was ripped away

i would not change it each time, heaven is not fit to house a love like you and i

percy / vex : work song

when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth, no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her

and i was burning up a fever, i didn't care much how long i lived

but i swear, i thought i dreamed her, she never asked me once about the wrong i did

if the lord don't forgive me, i'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

in the low lamplight, i was free, heaven and hell were words to me

pike / scanlan : foreigner's god

she moved with shameless wonder, the perfect creature rarely seen

her eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of me

wondering who i copy, mustering some tender charm

breaking if i try conveying, the broken love i make to her

fjord / jester : nobody

i'd be appalled if i saw you ever try to be a saint, i wouldn't fall for someone i thought couldn't misbehave

but i've had no love like your love from nobody

if i had the choice between hearing either noise, the excitement of a thousand, or the soothing of your voice

and on the other side, why should we deny the truth? we could have less to worry about, honey, i won't lie to you

beau / yasha : as it was

and in a few days i will be there, love, whatever here that's left of me is yours, just as it was

the lights were as bright as my baby, but your love was unmoved

tell me if, somehow, some of it remains, how long you would wait for me and how long i've been away

the shape that i'm in now, your shape in the doorway, make your good love known to me or just tell me about your day

and the nights were as dark as my baby, and half as beautiful too

caleb / essek : from eden

there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you, don't you agree?

honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago

innocence died screaming, honey, ask me, i should know

there's something broken about this, but i might be hoping about this

a rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree

imogen / laudna : NFWMB

give your heart and soul to charity, cause the rest of you, the best of you, honey, belongs to me

ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves?

if i was born as a blackthorn tree, i'd wanna be felled by you, held by you, fuel the pyre of your enemies

ain't it the life of you, your lightning of the blaze?

orym / dorian : like real people do

i will not ask you where you came from, i will not ask and neither should you

i know that look, dear, eyes always seeking, was there in someone that dug long ago

honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do

ashton / fearne : dinner & diatribes

i knew well from our first hookup, the look of mischief in your eyes

your friends are a fate that befell me, hell is the talking type, i'd suffer hell if you'd tell me what you'd do to me tonight

honey, i laugh when it sinks in, a pillar i am, upright

now that the evening is slowing, now that the end's in sight, honey, it's easier knowing what you'd do to me tonight

oh, let there be hotel complaints and grievances raised and that kind of love

[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS AND YOU (their crush)

KISSING THEIR CHEEKS

( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )

warning : none just fluff

note : little nod to max's 4th championship win, congrats to him, sooo proud !!

─ OSCAR PIASTRI

I know for sure boy was blushing so so hard. But it's absolutely adorable and cute. Oscar is very patient with you, and even though he dreams of being able to touch you in a more than friendly way, of being able to at least have the right to a little kiss, he restrains himself and tries not to act under his impulses. . However, when you decided to quickly kiss him on the cheek, out of nowhere, he actually felt himself melting from the inside. His cheeks have never blushed so much, and his heart has never beaten so quickly.

─ LANDO NORRIS

Ugh, you guys can barely hold eye contact, but he's already so in love. So mad in love even. Despite the fact that you are still shy, especially him, that you struggle to make eye contact without blushing afterwards, Lando can't help but ask for more. Just a little extra. So, when he walked you to your doorstep, he immediately asked you if he could have even a mini kiss. Your lips naturally landed on his cheek, brushing against it, almost like a ghost kiss. And when you pulled back oh... He was already touching the place where your lips rested, cheeks as pink as yours.

─ CHARLES LECLERC

This was absolutely surprising to Charles. But he would love to be able to feel that feeling again. When your lips pressed naturally against his cheek, your hands framing his face perfectly. He didn't move for at least a good two minutes, trying to figure out what just happened. If it was real. He was so shocked that he didn't see you lean in again to place another sweet kiss. He blinked a few times, and you could only giggle silently. Oh, it was the best day of his without a doubt. And if he could live it again, he wouldn't hesitate for a single second before saying yes.

─ CARLOS SAINZ

He only had eyes for you. And he loved seeing you smile, and making you happy. So from time to time he spoils you, and although you don't like it when he buys so many things for you, you always end up thanking him warmly because after all, it's adorable. You always hugged him, hugging him a little tighter each time, but this time it was different. You wanted a change from hugs, so with a surge of courage and love you gently kissed his cheek to thank him. He was dizzy, almost on the verge of passing out. He couldn't hold back a shy smile, and above all he couldn't settle for a hug from now on.

─ LEWIS HAMILTON

He waited there patiently, sitting in a corner of the garage before getting in his car. You were a few feet away from him, watching the mechanics adjust the final modifications to the car. He couldn't help but admire you. And stare at your lips. God, he would give anything to be able to feel them against his skin. And as he was about to get in the car, he stopped when he felt your arm rest on his forearm. And without knowing how, your lips crashed onto his cheek in a quick kiss. His best smile appeared on his face, as he tried to hide his blush by putting on his helmet. Finally, his wish came true, right?

─ GEORGE RUSSEL

He can't stop replaying the scene in his head. He already found you so perfect, so beautiful and incredibly intelligent. It wasn't just a crush anymore, it was George, a simp for you. But already his heart was speeding up just by looking at you, he really thought it was going to stop beating when you gently kissed him on his cheeks. It was pure, sweet and... terribly affectionate. He tried to appear as normal as possible, but inside he was a mess. His whole body was telling him to kiss you and tell you everything he has in his heart right now. And he's sure that day will come soon, because there's no way another day will pass without a kiss from you.

─ MAX VERSTAPPEN

As the race draws to a close, Max is finally a 4th time F1 world champion. And getting out of his car, as he proudly waves his arm to greet the crowd, only one thing is on his mind. You, you and only you. So it was natural that he found you among the crowd, looking at you as if only you existed in the world. His hair was still damp, his face still covered in drops of sweat, but that absolutely didn't stop you from pressing your soft lips against his cheek, for a long time. Passionately. And oh, that sweet gesture was better than any championship. His eyes spoke for themselves.

─ DANIEL RICCIARDIO

He will never, ever stop teasing you about the kiss you gave him. Quite simply because he loves seeing you smile and laugh, but above all because he secretly wants you to repeat this gesture over and over again, for eternity. Honestly, you wouldn't even have to ask him for permission as he will already be ready to receive another kiss from you on the cheek. It was by far the most beautiful experience of his life, and oh, his heart always asks for more when he sees you. So, he hopes to feel your lips on his skin again, even if it costs him to tease you all day long.

[arcanewhoosh]

The Bolter

2.2k words

Proofread? Y/N

TW: Minor descriptions of injuries

Arcane Series Finale spoilers

In the aftermath of the Battle of Piltover, you find yourself desperately clinging to a toy monkey head with nails hammered into it.

If you were to ask the regular citizens of Piltover and Zaun, the regular duration of a search and rescue mission is around seven days. While this was, in a way, correct, but it would only reach that many days if there was enough proof that the missing person was alive.

Standard operating procedure only allows a max of fifty-one hours.

You've been searching for nine days, fifteen hours, and twenty-seven minutes.

We don't have the resources right now, there's been too many casualties.

Alone.

There’re too many places to look through. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put the thought in your head-

Through every single cooling duct leading into the Hex Gate.

-the fuse assembly could've survived by other means.

"I have to try, Cait." You say as you put on your pack, loaded with first aid supplies and recovery equipment. Caitlyn moves to grab your arm. Her grip firm, but she's not holding you in any way that could actually prevent you from leaving. You still stop and wait for her to finish what she wants to say.

"It's been over a week. You've barely slept the entire time, and I can't keep changing the subject when Vi asks me where you've gone." She tugs at your arm lightly, willing you to sit down on a nearby chair.

It had been ten days since the end of the battle. Ten days since Piltover and Zaun almost met their demise. Ten days since so many lives were lost; all for power.

Vi was -is- a mess. She could barely pull herself up from the ledge you fished her out of back at the top of the tower. Dread had already begun to creep its way across your body as you made your way up to where Jinx and Ekko's balloon had crashed. The feeling only got worse as you climbed higher, seeing no signs of its three occupants. You started running faster up steps, climbing ladders with speed you never thought possible for you. For a moment the dread had ceded, your adrenaline taking over. But then there was the explosion. And then... And then eventually you heard Vi's cries.

Your body stiffens as you shut your eyes, willing the memory away. "You're gonna have to cover for me a bit longer, Cait." You say as you softly pry your arm free of her grasp. "With how loud that explosion was, there's no way the assembly could've just survived."

"If it was anyone else, maybe I would've stopped searching already. But you and I both know this isn't just anyone else, no matter which side you're on." Caitlyn looks at you for a few moments, you know we'll enough that she's already wavering in her previous attempt to dissuade you.

"You wouldn't have mentioned it at all if you didn't think-"

"I know, I know." She finally says. "I wouldn't have given you the schematics for the structure either."

She sighs, an all too familiar indicator that you've won. "Just... Don't push yourself too much. I know I'm the one that gave you hope that she survived, but at some point..." She trails off. You know she wants to say that she doesn't want you to have your hopes crushed, or to put yourself in unnecessary danger. Especially since the inner ducts have been unstable since the explosion.

"I promise, I'll be careful, Cait. You know me." You shrug and smile at her, hoping that the nonchalant display is enough to convince her that you aren't fatigued out of your mind.

The look on her face says she doesn't buy it. But she says nothing about her doubts, instead nodding your way. "Be careful, I'm holding you to that."

"I will."

"Fucking air vents." You curse as you drop your pack by the wall of the duct. The thump it makes echoing around the cavernous tunnel. You've been walking uphill to get back up to the entrance, but the strain from working non-stop for over a week, the sleep deprivation, and the mental exhaustion was bound to catch up. Maybe Cait was onto something with the whole resting thing.

You let out a huff at the thought. You didn't have time to rest, what if Jinx was somewhere hurt, with no one around- she'd find a way to pull herself out of here and escape-- or what if she was trapped somewhere -this is my second sweep of the vents and all the obstructed entrances have been cleared- You lean against the tunnel wall before slumping gingerly to the ground. Your ankle hadn't fully healed from the battle, and you still had bandages all over your midsection from injuries you sustained.

You take a few steadying breaths before pulling out a map of the vents, marking the sections you've done your sweep of. Your vision swims for a moment, and it's enough for you to shut the map and lean you head against the wall. You close your eyes and steady your breathing, willing yourself to hold it together.

You're no use to me dead. She would say right about now. I'm still alive and you still say I'm useless. You'd reply.

"Yeah, but I say it lovingly." She harks back from her chair, tinkering away at her robot bug thing that she and Isha were using for their little fight club. You turn from the pin board you were making- places in Zaun where new checkpoints had been placed. You drop the purple pen you were using-Isha had stolen the red marker you usually use-- to write and make your way over to Jinx.

"Lovingly?" You ask as you turn her chair around, a grin plastered on your face. She rolls her eyes, but her own smile betrays her attempt at brushing you off. "Don't think too hard about it, you might hurt yourself."

"Looks like you've been the one thinking about it." She scoffs at you, turning her chair back to face her work station. Though she doesn't turn fast enough for the pink dusting her cheeks to escape your notice. "I said don't think too much about it."

"Hey." You say softly, turning her chair around again and pulling up a chair for yourself so you were eye-level. She's pouting, so you know you're not in trouble. "I'm sorry for teasing." You take her left hand and place a kiss on her knuckles. She makes a face.

"Ew, don't kiss my hands, they're covered in grease."

"When are they not covered in grease?"

"Didn't you just apologize for teasing?"

"I'm sorry for teasing, again."

"You're lucky-" She clamps her mouth shut. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning again. The last thing you want is for her to close herself off. You know she's being careful. For someone known to be completely reckless at spontaneous times, she could be just as calculating and reserved. She's slipped a few times already, not explicitly saying I love you, but accidentally implying it or using some variation of the word during a casual conversation. You're no better, but so far, you've been able to avoid slipping.

Maybe you both thought it was too soon to say. Three or four months of you acknowledging that there was something between the two of you might be too soon, but there was a revolution going on, and revolutions are rarely peaceful and without casualties. Who knows what might happen in a few months, weeks, days, or hours. But you don't know what the next few weeks have in store for you.

"I know I'm lucky." You say. Hoping that the implication of, I know I'm lucky you love me, is enough.

But it wasn't, and now I'm here.

You jolt forward, blinking a few times to clear your blurry vision. Had you dozed off? For how long?

You sigh and rub your face with your hands. You do need rest, just for a little bit, then you'd get back to searching for her. You're no use to her dead, after all.

The walk back to your apartment is agonizing. The second you decided that it was time to take a break, your whole body decided that it was the best time for you to feel your exhaustion in its entirety. Your pack was suddenly heavier, your ankle decided to start swelling, and the wound on your side thought it was the perfect time to start bleeding again. Despite your body's attempt to suddenly render you immobile, you're able to meander back to your door after a horrible confrontation with five flights of stairs. Damn that faulty elevator.

You decide that having a view from your balcony isn't really all that worth it as you jam your keys into the lock and make your way inside. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you pass through the door. The lock never clicked open.

You draw your pistol quietly, and scan the open living room and kitchen area of your home. Deeming the areas clear, you start making your way towards the hallway leading to your bedroom, pistol aimed and ready. Who on the Runeterra's green earth would be targeting you? Leftover Noxians? No. Turn coats like Maddie? Unlikely. Someone from the Undercity with a grudge? Unless they figured out who I am, I doubt it.

You hear a creaking sound from a door to your left, and you quickly kick it open and aim your pistol at the intruder.

"Jeez, you'd think a girl would get a warmer welcome after coming back from the dead." The intruder says, leaning back on a chair and idly scanning a vinyl.

You stare, dumbfounded. A part of you fully believing you've started hallucinating from the exhaustion, or the blood loss, you're not sure anymore. Your intruder, however, seemed to find your predicament funny.

"What, got nothing to say to me?" She asks. She finally turns to look at you, but the grin she puts on quickly falters when she notices the blood from your reopened wound seeping through your uniform. And then she's in front of you, one hand cupping the side of your face, the other hovering just above spots of blood on your shirt.

She asks if you're okay, but you're not sure. You still haven't confirmed whether on not you're hallucinating. So you do the only logical thing in the world and wrap your arms around her.

"Jinx?" Your voice cracks as you utter her name, and you wait. Wait for her to disappear, for your tired mind to catch up and be able to distinguish what is real and what isn't, because a part of you was only ever really using the tunnel search as a coping mechanism and that-

"I'm here, it's okay." She says as she wraps her arms around you and returns your embrace. If it were any other day, it would be you comforting her, offering her words of reassurance, support, affirmation. But this isn't any other day. Because you thought for the last ten days, twenty-three hours, and eight minutes, that she had died in an explosion.

But she didn't, and now you're sure that she's alive, that she's here, and alive, and breathing and-

"I love you." The words spill out of your mouth before you can think of anything else. How could you think of anything else? When those words, you realize now, have been long overdue.

She laughs. You realize how much you've missed hearing her laugh once your tears start falling. "I'm sorry." You say. "I thought, you died."

You stop yourself from hissing as her hug tightens and pain shoots up from your side. You could stomach the discomfort for this. You wouldn't let her go for anything, not again. "I'm sorry I took so long, bubs."-Your heart soars at the nickname- "There were a few... loose ends I had to take care of before coming to find you." She wipes away your tears as she says this, her hands carefully brushing your hair out of your face.

"It's okay, nothing else matters now." Just you you wanted to add, but refrain from speaking any further. You pull away just far enough to look at her, still not letting her go. It's her, alright. Her hair is different, and she doesn't have her pants that that one enforcer described as a half-eaten circus tent, but it's her.

"You're not upset?" She has the audacity to ask.

"I spent the last week and a half thinking you were dead, upset is the last thing I'm feeling.” A pause. “Wait no, actually, I spent nine days wandering around the cooling vents to look for greasy ass hand prints on walls."

"Hey."

"And I couldn't find any so you must've washed your hands for once-"

"Okay, smart ass, I get it." She says, rolling her eyes before pulling you in for a kiss. Suddenly all the exhaustion and pain you're feeling is gone, and your mind blanks. The only thought running through your head is Jinx and I missed you, and I love you, I love you, I love you as you pull her closer to you.

"Easy, tiger." She puts a hand on your chest to stop you from chasing after her when she pulls away. You let out a huff. She laughs. "You're bleeding, I need to take a look at that first."

"Since when has me being injured ever stopped you?"

She grins at you. "Being away from me that long has you down bad, huh?"  You grumble something about her being unappreciative, and she responds by pulling your face down and placing a kiss on your nose.

"You're lucky I love you." 

[unb1nding-t-b0y]

The gendered prison system we have developed is truly horrifying as a trans man. Growing up little girls terrorized me for essentially being a little girl wrong. I have no doubts that in a women's prison I'd be unsafe. At best ignored at worst I end up dead because a group of women decides my presence is annoying to them. In mens prison as a man with a vagina I likely wouldn't survive very long. As a disabled person I could easily lose my life in prison due to negligence. For able bodied cis gendered people prison is a scary and dangerous place to be. For the disabled, for trans people, and for intersex people it is often a death sentence. By separating our prisoners by gender and stripping them of humane treatment we have created a dangerous place that perpetuates mob mentality and us vs them. When these people are released the mentality doesn't go away it spreads. Prisons as they are need to be put to rest for good. People deserve privacy, fair treatment, and safe environments regardless of what they have done. Execution is kinder than the system we have designed. If you want to kill me for breaking the rules just do it, don't sentence other prisoners to do your dirty work.

I think it’s normal to be afraid of jail especially for trans men who are disabled or not white or are mentally ill. to casually joke about “what happened to be gay do crimes” to a population whose mortality is threatened by the prospect of jail is deeply cruel and deranged behavior.

[cherie-doll]

Cherie luveeee. Wish you good and healthy, beautiful.

I got someting.

You know those retired dog officers that have been trained for jungkies and bombs?? We adopt them while cod characters are away for deployments, because we're lonely and literal scary dog privileges hehe.

And when they're home, our dog gets alert and quite relentless by the smells until we pay the good officer jerky and 2 ice cubes.

It's messy, but hope you understand what I mean.

Dw i see your vision and tried to execute it

⪩⪨ price, ghost, soap, gaz, roach, alejandro, rudy, phillip graves, makarov, keegan, könig, horangi, nikto

No cuz imagine missing that security, yearning for those big strong muscle arms wrapping around you and engulfing your body in theirs >.<

BuT, you’re alone at home, that emptiness roaming the halls and dark rooms as the orange glow of the afternoon sun seeps through the blinds and the most awful melancholy hits you. You grab your keys and go out for a drive not being able to stand the loneliness anymore.

You’re driving around downtown and spot a shelter, you saw a poster on the glass display for cats. Only to walk in and be told that they’ve all been adopted, you’re ready to walk out until a yelp can be heard from one of the kennels and see a German shepherd watching you with his big brown eyes, head laying on his paws. Your heart squeezes and it’s as if you’re made for one another. Without another thought you ask for it and after a few moments you’re walking out with your new companion.

You spend the next couple of weeks bonding with the dog, taking him out on walks and sleeping peacefully on your bed despite your military bf/husband gone because you know the canine sleeping on the bedroom floor will protect you. You even go out a little more often than you would when they're on deployment because you've got your guard dog scaring away those with wrong intentions but is secretly a sweetheart within.

And it isn't until your partner comes back, late at night, that your dog raises his head, ears attentive and listening to the footsteps of heavy boots probably leaving dirt all over the clean entrance hallway and making their way up the stairs to the bedroom. He can sense a strange new smell, much stronger than your subtle scent. The overpowering new scent awakens his instincts and he's at the door in an instant growling and waking you up.

Much to the confusion and frustration of the dog, you're not as wary as you should be. You freely open the door and welcome the soldier who's been away for too long into your arms.

Price would be too engulfed in your embrace to notice the dog growling lowly at him. It would only be when he leans down to put away his shoes and place the duffle bag slung over his shoulder that he'd come face to face with the dog's snout sniffing him over. He'd ask where you got it from and once the dog realized there is no threat they'd get used to each other quickly.

Simon wouldn't appreciate the hair the dog has left on the side of the bed that's usually his. But he commends you for being smart and getting a dog, and not just any fluffy golden retriever, no you got a dog breed he can trust will use the best of their instincts to take care of you. He'll be at ease knowing he's not leaving you alone anymore.

Johnny would have a close call getting bitten by the doggo. Maybe warn him, yeah? But he's all over the dog, petting it, asking what's his name. And he most likely wouldn't get much sleep despite arriving late home. The dog is all excited about a new person in the house and be all over him.

Kyle tries his darn best to earn that dog's trust and convince them he's not a threat. It's not that the dog smells bad intentions from him, he just doesn't like the proximity between the both of you. Noses in between you both while you're giving Kyle a kiss on the lips. After a few treats, he got the dog to calm down and sit at the far end of the room, keeping an eye just in case lol.

Gary loves dogs and tbh he thinks this was a surprise you had planned for him. The dog can't even do his regular routine of sniffing the person because Gary is hugging him, petting and scratching behind the dog's ears. The dog loves the attention though and quickly warms up to him.

Alejandro would get a good scare at this big dog standing in the doorway watching him. Would curse loud enough his mother could surely hear from her grave and rise to throw a chancla at him. He's tired, has had a long drive and in his usual good mood would dote on the dog but not when he's on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. Doesn't even say anything much after that and just grabs you, collapses into bed with you in his arms and falls asleep.

Rudy's first thought is that a stray dog got in and would be concerned for your safety but then sees the collar around the dog's neck and know right away he's part of the family now. And no matter how tired he is, Rudy would still sit there and with the dog resting on his lap, would ask you how you got him, where, what's his name, how you've been feeling after adopting him, etc.

Phillip doesn't pay mind to the dog, even if its growling at him and even baring teeth. Plenty of people do that to him at work, he's used to it. Man has two things in his mind since pulling into the driveway; you and rest. He takes a quick shower, doesn't even bother putting actual clothes on and just falling asleep in a towel wrapped around his waist. The dog just standing next to the bed at Phillip's side, smelling his face curiously.

Makarov isn't surprised to be greeted by dogs at the door because he's probably already owned a few big dogs but they're usually kept outside. Kicks his shoes off, which distract the snarling dog who goes after his shoes only seeing a new toy. He goes right over and starts getting ready to sleep until he turns to face your side confused to see the dog in between the both of you with his shoe in his mouth.

Keegan couldn't care less, he has no thoughts at the moment. His eyes barely register the dog who won't stop thrusting his nose into his face when he leans down to pull off his boots and socks. He just grumbles something and pushes the dog away who follows after him. He kisses you goodnight or hello, he doesn't know anymore, gives the dog a pat on the head and drifts off to sleep.

König the type to just stand there staring at the dog who stares right back at him. Surely, with how sleep deprived he is he must think it's an hallucination or maybe he's asleep and already dreaming. Reaches out, letting the dog sniff his hand and when he feels the warm breath from the dog's nostrils tickle his hand he simply nods approvingly. He'll make friends with the dog tomorrow.

Horangi would probably set off all of the dog's danger sensors because of his nature of doing things. Like he gets home, slams the door shut, his heavy footsteps making their way to you, throwing his duffle bag on the floor and tackling you (lovingly ofc duh) would make the dog think you're getting attacked.

Nikto would start asking you all sorts of question, interrogating you almost. Asking where the wolf came from, why did you get it, did you not feel safe to wait until he came back? He's asking more because he's genuinely concerned and wants to know if something specific happened that made you feel like you needed a dog as big as the one currently stuffing his nose into the pockets of his jacket.

[clown-bimbo]

Sugar Daddy Leona

Definitely a gender neutral reader because he is rood in this and we already know Leona is canonically more respectful to women, so you are yuugender in this

You’re down on your luck and need cash. Maybe you’re even in debt to azul, who knows. But you need money.

Fortunately for you, a certain royal lion who throws money at problems he’s too lazy to deal with (which is most of them) currently has a problem that you can solve.

Leona needs a date.

Some stupid ball thing he has to attend. And for most of his life he’s been able to get away going alone, but this year his family is really pestering him to bring someone. He doesn’t think much of it, he’ll just find someone not too annoying to drag along with him. He’ll even pay them for their time. Win win. (He ends up offering you a stupid amount of money but you take the Ruggie route and just accept it from him)

And that’s how the transactional relationship between you and Leona starts. Innocent enough, right?

but then you and Leona get tipsy. Then you and Leona get handsy. And then you and Leona get in bed.

You wake up the next morning with the usual headache, but also a sleepy lion clinging onto you like a pillow.

Also you’re both naked.

And bruised.

And DAMN did you fuck up Leona’s back—

Tho it was probably deserved, especially now that you can really process how fucking sore you are down there.

Leona stirs, complaining about his headache. If he's surprised to see you in bed with him, you'll never know, because his face remains passive. He mumbles something about upping your pay, then falls back to sleep.

You don't even know where your underwear is.

You eventually do find it, you clean up and get dressed. At some point Leona finally gets up, pulling his boxers on but nothing else. His tail waves lazily behind him.

You try to bring up last night, but he starts digging through his pile of clothes and tosses a wallet at you.

"There'd be trouble if word got out, so I'm counting you to keep your mouth shut, got it, Herbivore?"

You just nod and try to leave as subtly as possible.

Below the cut is 18+ content. Tread with caution.

For my afab readers out there, the extra money is also for you to find last minute contraceptives. He wouldn't know the first thing about buying them himself, but figures you should, right? All he knows is that he came in you. A lot. And he definitely can't afford the consequences, and he doesn't want you to either.

You both expect to brush it all off, put it all behind you.

But uh

Leona finds him thinking about you more. Specifically when he's horny. And it's fucking annoying. So, once again, he decides to go about his tried and true method of throwing money at someone to deal with it.

He contacts you again and says (in the blunt Leona way) that he will pay you to keep going to events with him and also fuck him.

So now you've got the lil sugar daddy transaction going on. You join him to socials and events with his family, then he takes you to bed and fucks all his frustrations out on you.

Typically has you on all fours or bouncing on his cock. Man's has two modes: pillow princess or beast mode. Typically one followed by the other.

He'll be lounging on bed while you ride him. You'll get yourself off on his cock. And while your panting, he's shifting to grab you. He'll whisper in your ear I'm not done yet, herbivore, and suddenly he's pounding into you like a jackhammer.

Or it'll be a session of relentless pounding, but one of you wants more, so he'll lay back and have you ride him.

There are times where you'll both be exhausted (or in his case, where he doesn't want to exert as much effort) but he still insists that you keep going. Really, he just likes being inside you. Don't be surprised when you wake up sleeping on his chest, dick still inside you.

And he refuses to use condoms, he wants to cum inside you, and he fucking will. And he fucking does. A lot.

And if you're afab he absolutely makes sure you're on the best contraceptive plan possible.

He may tear any condoms he sees to pieces, but he still tries to be a safe sex king. Just don't make him wear the fucking rubber, unless you really wanna get fUCKED up that night. They make him so irrationally angry.

Or maybe there is some rationality to it. Maybe it's an instinct thing.

Over the course of the transactional relationship you really become his herbivore. He actively seeks you out for company. Like to the point Ruggie has not only noticed it, but become accustomed to it. Which also means he has teased Leona about it, though not often and a lot, because Leona seems oddly touchy about it...

Speaking of touchy, mans is so handsy with you, always has to be holding you in some way. Later on in the relationship, he started getting cheeky with it, and there have been a few times where you'd swat him and he'd just shoot you that wry smile. He will always move his hand, though, when you express discomfort or discontent. He only does it because he can tell you don't really hate it. You're mostly just embarrassed. And he likes the way you blush.

Will prob do a part 2 because I have more ideas but they're not nsfw and I want to make them available. Sooooooo... yeah.

[hadersversion]

‘tis the damn season.

“so we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend.”

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue! reader

warnings: 18+, SMUT, p in v, fingering, begging, overstimulation, use of babe....let me know if i forget anything lol. ALSO in some places in america, thansgiving eve is literally just a holiday to get drunk in your hometown

your home for the holidays for the first time in years. you've been avoiding rafe, the reason you've been away for so long, but after seeing him again all the old feelings come back. when rafe sends a text one night, you end up in the back of his truck like old times.

i parked my car out front of my childhood home, staring at the old exterior.

somethings never change.

being back in the outer banks felt strange. it has been a while since i have been back, avoiding come home for as long as i can. but with a few begging phone calls from my mom and kiara, here i am.

i knock on my front door and am greeted with a bright smile.

"jj?" i ask, confused.

"welcome home, stranger." he says, with a hug and grabbing my bag.

i walk into my living room and see the pogues, sitting with my mom. a homemade 'welcome home' banner hanging above their heads.

my mom comes over and gives me a big hug. "i thought i would never see this face again." she says with a squeeze.

"boston isn't that far, mom." i tell her but i know she would never leave the outer banks. never in a million years. i turn towards the others and smile. "i wonder who could've put this together?" i say, looking at kiara.

"hey it wasn't all me, pope was the one who brought it up." she says, engulfing me in her arms.

"guilty." pope chimes in, joining the hug. i feel jj and john b join in as well. my family.

we break away and hang out in the living room, catching up.

"don't tell me you went all city on us, y/n." john b pokes fun at me.

"not completely. but it is nice having more things to do than hang on the beach and smoke." i wink.

"who could want more than that?" jj asks, making us all laugh.

"speaking of," kiara starts. "there's a little thanksgiving eve celebration happening at the wreck. just some people from high school. nothing big."

"just a chance to get drunk of our asses and go to dinner the next day hungover." jj says, causing kiara to nudge him.

"what do you say? want to join us?" i look around the room at my friends, all eager waiting for my response. with a sigh, i nod and they all cheer. "thank god, i don't think i could've done that alone."

i smile and nod. it should be fun, it will be. but my brain can't help to wonder if the one person who's kept me away from coming home will be there. no, he wouldn't. not with the pogues. but a part of me can't help but hope to see his face.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

i fix my sweater in the mirror in my room, my body fidgeting from anxiety. it's been a few days and i still can't shake that feeling from my body about being home. sure, i'm happy but this place holds so many memories. memories i wish to bury. i stare at the photo booth picture tucked into my mirror of him and i. i guess i forgot to hide this with the rest of the stuff. i take it off the mirror and sigh, examining it.

almost four years since it was taken. almost four years since we called it quits. and yet, he still haunts my memories. his presence making itself known through cheap beer at the bar, expensive men's cologne at the mall, exhaust that leaves motorbikes as they ride down the street. he's always there, whether i like it or not.

the sound of a horn breaks me free of my thoughts.

"y/n, they're here!" my mom calls from downstairs.

"coming!" i open my dresser drawer and slip the photo in before racing downstairs. i kiss my mom on the cheek and slip out the door, rushing into the van.

"ready to get fucked up?" jj asks with his devilish smirk.

i roll my eyes and laugh. "let's go."

we pull up to the wreck, it's already dark outside and a slight breeze fills the air. we all hurry in, greeted by familiar faces. my name is called from every direction, old friends from high school or the beach. all my fellow pogues who i know and love. when i'm done making my rounds, i head over to our table. everyone has some drink in their hand, beer or cocktail, and they all smile up at me.

"who would've though little y/n y/l/n would be a pogue celebrity?" pope jokes.

i flip him off and slide in next to john b. kiara hands me a beer and i take a sip. "i'm not a celebrity, i'm just one of the only people from this island who actually made it off."

they all make jokes at my despair, teasing me in any way they could when sarah walks up. i feel my stomach flip and i smile at her. "y/n!" she embraces me. "i'm so happy to see you!"

i hug her back and smile. "me too, sar. how's everything been?"

"the usual but i can't complain." she sits next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. "it's been forever."

"it has." i sigh. "it really has."

we all share stories and laugh around the table. we take shots, chug beer, and play different drinking games. just like old times sake.

"i need another beer." i say with a slight slur in my voice, standing up. "anyone else?" everyone shakes their head as i excuse myself.

i walk up to the bar and wait my turn, twirling my debit card in my hand. it could be the alcohol but i feel content and happy to be home.

"y/n?"

until that moment.

i don't want to turn around, i don't even want to accept my fate in this situation.

i know that voice, i could recognize it in a crowd of millions of people. it was the voice that lingered in my dreams, my thoughts.

i turn around and look at the man.

"rafe."

he looks older, his hair buzzed and some facial hair covering his face. but those eyes. they are the same eyes of the boy i loved.

we stood there, not saying a word. just taking the sight of one another in.

"i didn't know you were home." he says, not breaking eye contact.

i nod, biting my lip. "i am, i got home monday."

he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "how long you here for?"

"till saturday. then i'm going back to boston." my throat feels scratchy and my face is on fire. i want to be anywhere but here now.

his eyes continue to study me. "two more budweiser's, please." he says to the bartender. i open my mouth to protest but he shakes his head. "on me, think of it as a welcome home gift."

the bartender hands me the beer and i smile. i turn back to rafe and tip the bottle to him. "thanks."

"no problem." he clinks his bottle to mine. we both take a long sip. my eyes are desperately trying to find a place to land, ending up on the bright sign above the bar. but rafe's are still on me.

"you okay?" kiara asks as she walks behind rafe. she is my gurdian angel.

"yeah, just waiting for my beer. excuse me." i squeeze past rafe and walk back to my table. i look back at him and smiles. i hate him.

a few drinks more and my ears are ringing. it was loud and everyone was far too drunk. i excuse myself for air outside. there are a few people lingering, smoking cigarettes or waiting for ubers. i smile and take in the nostalgia.

"you know, it would've been nice to know you were home." i hear rafe's voice next to me.

i roll my eyes and look up at him. "oh, would it have been? sorry, i didn't think you'd care." i say coldly. that liquid courage is taking control.

he looks down at me. "and why would i have not cared?"

"hmm, let me think." i put my finger to my chin. "oh, right. 'don't ever contact me again. we're so over. i wish i never met you. blah. blah. blah.' do you want me to go on?" i say to him.

i watch as he processes what i said to him, the words of our last fight. he looks guilty, for once in his life. "that was years ago, y/n. w-we were just kids."

"oh, really? then why haven't i heard from you for the past few years? phone works both ways, rafe." i say, shrugging.

he stands there quietly, i got him.

"how's school been?" he asks, nonchalantly.

"are you for real?" i ask.

"what? i'm being nice." he says.

i huff with frustration. "you are such an ass." i push pass him and walk onto the sidewalk.

"where are you going?" he asks, following after me.

"away from you." i say, not looking back.

i hear him run up behind me and he gently grabs my arm. "y/n. y/n, stop."

i turn to look at him. "what do you want from me, huh? you want to torture me even more?"

he stares at me, hand still on my arm. "what? of course not. y/n, i missed you."

"fuck off." i spit out without thinking.

"you're drunk."

"and you're an asshole." i say, flatly. "you...you fucking broke my heart and you expect me to act like everything is fucking dandy?"

"y/n." he tries to plead his case.

"no, rafe. you don't get to waltz in here and act like everything is okay with us. do you know how much you fucked me over? one day you're telling me you love me and you want to move to boston with me and the next, you're dumping me over the phone." i poke his chest. "i did everything you wanted, i kept what we had between us a secret, i took care of you. and nothing was enough for you."

he looks down at his feet in guilt. "i-i know, i'm sorry. i was...i was fucked up back then. with my dad on my case and the drinking...i wasn't okay. i felt like..." he cut himself off.

"what, rafe? you felt like, what?" i ask.

"like i was going to hold you back, alright?" he raises his voice. "you are too good for this place, for me. i didn't want to hold you back. i loved you too much to do that to you." i stare at him and laugh. "what? what's so fucking funny?"

"you, rafe. you." i sigh. "instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid. we could've worked that out. but you were too scared." i close my eyes and shake my head. "goodbye, rafe."

i walk down the street, hugging my body as the wind blows. a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but there's still that feeling i get whenever i think of him. that feeling that i miss him.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

thanksgiving flew by, even though i had a hangover that felt like it would last a lifetime.

i helped my mom clean up the kitchen as the pogues did the dishes and took the trash out. just like old times.

once we were done, we sat outside around the bonfire. you would think after yesterday, drinking would come to a halt but jj found a bottle of vodka in the freezer and mixed it with kiara's apple cider. we all enjoyed each other's company but my mind could not help but wander. my last conversation with rafe ringing through my head.

"instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid."

i shake my head and take a sip of my spiked cider. as much as it rang true, there was still that part of me that wonders 'what if?'. the more i thought about it, the more i wanted to pick up my phone.

no, i need to be the bigger person. i'm stronger than that. i can't text him first.

then i felt my phone buzz in my lap.

rafe: hey

i stare at the text and bite my lip. i know i should ignore it, let it go unread. but my fingers work against my brain and type 'hi' back to him. i sit there, eagerly waiting for a response.

rafe: can we talk?

rafe: i'm sorry about last night, i'm a fucking idiot.

rafe: there's so many things i could say to you rn

rafe: but i miss you.

rafe: i wanna see you.

i look around at my friends and sigh, they would be so mad at me for this.

y/n: sure, give me like an hour.

y/n: park down the street at the usual spot.

my friends leave my house, mainly due to me faking another wave of hungover puking. i run upstairs and check myself out in the mirror, i look damn good. when i get his text, i sneak out the backdoor and hurry down the street. i see his truck parked under the big tree, the spot he always parked in.

i open the truck door and hop into the passenger seat. i look over at him, he's still in his dressy clothes. a blue polo that hugged his arms right and khakis that made his thighs look exceptionally big. he knew what he was doing and i can't tell if i hate him or love him for it.

we drive in silence for a bit, his radio playing music faintly. his hands grip the steering wheel as his mind looks like he's on another planet. i play with the ends of my sweatshirt, anxiously waiting for him to do something. anything.

he pulls up to the beach, the spot where we would always come to. it was dark and the waves crashed against the shore loudly. he turns the car off and looks over at me.

"thanks for meeting me." he says simply.

"sure."

"i'm sorry about last night. you went out to have fun and i ruined it, i know i did."

i just nod at him.

"and...you were right. about it all." he sighs, running his hands over his face. "i should've manned up, talked to you about how i was feeling. but you know how i get. i get too in my head and just jump to conclusions. it wasn't fair to you." he looks into my eyes. "these past few years without you have been a living hell and i have only myself to blame."

"are you drunk? high?" i ask.

"w-what?"

"are you not sober?" i ask again.

"i'm sorry, what? of course i'm fucking sober." he says. "why would i not be?"

"rafe cameron...taking accountability? i'm sorry, it just seems so...foreign?" i laugh.

"i'm being serious, y/n."

i laugh again. "oh, i'm sure. and...the sky is green. we live on the planet pluto. aliens exist and so do unicorns!"

he pinches the bridge of his nose. "y/n, i'm telling the truth! god, you always joke around."

"yeah, because i know you." i say to him. "and you would rather eat concrete than admit you are wrong."

"eat concrete?" he asks, with a smirk.

"you know what i mean!" i huff with frustration.

he grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. "y/n, i am fully sober. we are not in another universe, it is not opposite day. i was wrong and i am sorry."

my brain malfunctions as i look into his eyes. "y-you mean it?"

"every word i said."

my brain not working means i experienced a lack of better judgment. i grab rafe by his collar and connect our lips for the first time in years. this kiss, the one i have longed for since i left this place, was the missing puzzle piece i've been searching for in my life. everything seemed to make sense again.

his hands cupped my cheeks as his tongue slipped into my mouth. he was hungry for me and i wasn't going to stop him because i felt insatiable as well. his hands roamed from my cheeks down to my neck and onto my shoulders.

i needed more.

i climbed onto his lap and straddled him. my arms connected around his neck as he pressed against me. i felt his cock hard against his khakis and i wanted it. i wanted it all. i rubbed myself against him, causing us both to moan.

he continued to kiss me until he broke away and looked at me. his puffy lips formed a cocky smile as he brushed his nose against mine. "you missed me."

"shut up." i was itching for more.

"admit it, you missed me. you missed the way i made you feel." he states.

"rafe, shut up and kiss me, please."

"ah ah ah." he shook his head. "not until you tell me."

"you're such an ass." i roll my eyes, trying to catch my breathe.

"yet, here you are, rubbing yourself against me in my truck." he says, kissing my cheek. his lips then go to my ear and down my neck. "i want it all with you, right now, babe. but i need to hear it."

"fine! fuck, i missed you. are you happy?" i groan, needing him.

"very. get in the backseat." he demands. i quickly follow his order, hopping in the back over the seats. he gets out of the truck and opens up the back door, sliding in next to me. "come here." he pulls me back onto his lap and we pick up where we left off. i continue to rub myself against him as he sloppily kisses me. "just like old times." he jokes and i hit his shoulder. "c'mon, don't act like you don't think about it."

"oh, i do. but i bet you think about it more than i do." i smirk.

"probably." he laughs. his fingers fall to the hem of my sweater and he plays with it. "now are we only here to kiss or?"

"why? you wanna fuck me in your truck? just like old times." i say, making fun of what he just said.

"i do, i wanna fuck you right here, right now. it's all i've been wanting to do." he kisses my jawline. "do you want me to fuck you?"

this is what i missed the most, our back and forth.

"yes, rafe. i want you to fuck me." i moan out.

with that, he practically rips my sweater off my body and starts to kiss down my chest. his large hands palm my clothed breast. i bite my lip and let my head fall back, missing the way he affected my body. i felt his hand snake around to the back and unclip my bra quickly.

"show off." i say, out of breathe.

i smirks and connects his lips to my nipple, sucking and licking it. his hand massaging my other. "don't pretend you don't like it."

i smirk and shake my head.

he continues to focus on my tits, going back and forth between the two.

"more." i whisper, eyes clenched shut.

"what was that?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"i need more, rafe. please." i beg.

"look at you all needy for me. i knew you missed me." his hand slipped under my jeans and panties, stopping right at my core. i felt his fingers curl inside me, going in and out. "all wet for me, huh? what a good girl." he pushed in, fingering my cunt, when his thumb found my sensitive bud. he added pressure, circling it, and i felt as though i was seeing stars.

"s-shit." i cry out, moving my hips to try and gain some friction.

"feel good, baby? let me hear how could i make you feel." he picked up his pace and a pornographic moan escaped my lips. it's been forever since someone has made me feel this good. rafe knew my body like it was his own, he knew how to get me going. "there we go, like how my fingers feel?"

"u-uh huh." i nod, mouth hanging open.

his fingers worked their magic, rubbing my clit at a pace that'll make me come undone in no time. "love the way you look on top of me, baby. so fucking sexy." he attached his lips to my tits again and continued fingering me.

i felt on fire.

i place one hand on the window and the other on his shoulder, holding on for dear life. the more he whispered about me and the faster his fingers were going, i was cumming on his fingers before i knew it. i rode out my high, screaming his name. once i was done, i felt him pull his fingers out of my pants, my juices getting all over myself. i stared down at him, trying to catch my breathe, as he popped his fingers into his mouth and sucked.

"just as good as i remember." he cleaned his fingers off and kissed me again. my hands ran down his buff chest and stopped at the bottom of his polo, lifting it up. his gold chain laid against his chiseled body, he was perfect. i felt as though i was in a trance as i began to kiss down his chest. i could feel his groans vibrating in his chest and i smirked because i was the one making him feel this way. "i need to fuck you."

"you need to?" i laugh, kissing lower and lower.

"yes, y/n. i need to bury myself inside of you, please." he pleaded.

"i like when you're the one begging." i bite him lightly, causing him to hiss.

"i bet."

i unbuttoned his khakis and sat up so he could slip them off. his grey boxers were discolored from the precum leaking off his cock. he took his underwear off and his cock sprung out. "i-i don't have protection." he said, mentally cursing himself out.

"well, are you clean?" i ask.

"yes. i-i haven't been with anyone since." he openly admitted.

i felt the darkness overtake my eyes as i lower myself down onto him. his breath hitched as he slipped all the way in. he was deep inside of me, causing a few tears to leave my eyes. but the pain subsided as he started to rock my hips with his hands, moving me back and forth. i picked up the rhythm he started with me and placed my hands on his shoulder to steady myself. i felt the truck rocking back and forth as i did so.

his hands found my ass and rested there. "fuck, i missed your pussy. so good, takes me so well." he kissed my chest as i grinded back and forth.

i felt my finger nails dig into his shoulder as his cock hit all the right spots. i looked down at him and he stared at me in awe, like i was some work of art. "fuck, rafe. you're so big."

i bite my lip as i let my head fall back in pleasure. i ride him fast as i keep saying his name. "shit, y/n. you're such a good girl, you're so hot. you feel so tight."

i connect our lips, i feel his hands tighten around my ass. this means he was close. "i want you to cum in me, rafe." his eyes widen as he opens his mouth to ask for permission. "p-please fill me up. i miss it so much." i say, trying to catch my breathe.

with that, he lets out a groan and my name falls from his lips like a prayer. "y/n." i feel him coming inside me, painting me. it doesn't take long for his thumb to find my clit again. with the extra pressure applied to my overstimulated cunt, i feel my head reeling. the air in the truck is hot, making it almost hard for me to breath. it all feels too much, my body releasing onto rafe yet again.

we sit there, panting with our eyes closed. i rest my head on his sweaty chest and he kisses me gently. he rubs my back, tracing circles into it.

"felt even better than i imagine." he says, his voice gruff.

"you thought about it a lot, huh?" i smirk.

"all the fucking time."

i take him out of me and sit next to him in the truck. the windows are foggy and our hands find each other, holding them. i get a sense of weird nostalgia, from how things used to be with us.

"well that was a thanksgiving to remember." i joke, trying not to feel overwhelmed by what happened.

"'tis the damn season." he replies.

i slowly slip my sweater back on and try to find my pants.

"w-wait." rafe says. "is this...is this it? just a single fuck and you're gone."

i look at him, his eyes pleading with me.

"i go back to boston on saturday rafe, we only have like a day and a half."

i wish we could keep this going, i wish this was how things always were. but i had to think realistically. i have to go back home, i have to move on with my new life.

he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "boston is only an 11 hour drive. hour or two by plane."

"rafe." i say.

"i can't lose you again. i can't, y/n. these past few years have sucked without you. i can't wait until you come home for christmas again. now that i've got you again, i can't risk it."

i sigh and kiss his hand. "i know. i know." i close my eyes and shake my head. "we'll make it work. we almost did it before."

"we can do it again." he smiles sweetly. i kiss his lips gently, laying my hand against his chest.

"you'd do an 11 hour car ride for me?"

"y/n, i'd fucking walk if i have to." he smiles.

i roll my eyes and kiss his cheek. "you're so cheesy."

he lays me back against the truck seats and kisses me. "don't act like it doesn't work for you."

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

The only thing that a high comorbidity among trans people for neurodivergence and mental illness tells me is that both of those things are definitely being under diagnosed in cis people.

Like of course if you're doing a mental health evaluation on an entire population, you're going to end up with more confirmed cases of neurodivergence and mental illness than you would if you were only counting those who displayed enough signs to get a diagnosis without a mandatory screening.

If you screened an entire high school actively looking for signs of student being outside "the norm" mentally, then you're definitely going to end up with more students in the neurodivergent or mentally ill category than there was before you screened the students.

Like you only get a diagnosis if it's effecting your life enough someone else notices, or you yourself actively seek a diagnosis because you suspect there's something you need help with or support for.

The mental health screening that trans people are put through is catching every low support person who would have never been diagnosed if they'd been cis, because they wouldn't have been scrutinized that closely.

something that should be taken with a grain of salt are the statistics talking about the high rates of mental illness + neurodivergence among trans people (ocd, bpd, adhd, autism, etc)

I see both sides of the political spectrum taking these studies at face value - conservatives say we're broken, and trans people try to come up with reasons why for example autism + gender dysphoria makes sense and why one of them feeds into another

at the end of the day you have to remember that we're the one category of people on this planet who are legally required to go see a psychiatrist in order to receive non-psychiatric medication and surgeries.

more trans people are in therapy by law than any other demographic of people, and as a result, this captures more comorbidities.

if I had to look at my own family & rates of mental illness?

mom, dad, 2 maternal aunts, maternal grandmother, paternal grandmother, sister, sibling, and me all have OCD.

7/9 of them are cishet, never been to therapy, never diagnosed. 2/9 are trans, required therapy for hormone treatment, and were diagnosed.

you don't have to do any math to just see that the resulting statistics end up intensely skewed.

and we can think back to how autism was virtually never diagnosed more than 50 years ago - ruling out any grandparents being included in statistics - and even my parents' generation (they're in their 60s now) wouldn't have been included either.

I don't think it's to anyone's benefit to accept these studies uncritically. a lot of these things are hereditary and far more prevalent in the overall population than people realize

[hetchdrive]

The Sky of it all is genuinely kind of horrifying though, to be honest. I literally said to Madison midway through act ii that I thought Sky's presence was to indicate that Viktor was doing all this out of guilt, that he was on some level aware he couldn't actually help these people and this was the closest he could get with the powers he had, because of the way she died he learned that she was in love with him and he kept her ghost tethered to him despite his inability to reciprocate that love. Like he couldn't love her but he could keep part of her alive and so he did, he couldn't actually help the Zaunites heal from their poverty and their oppression but he could take away their physical imperfections and the emotional pain that went along with it so he did.

But I was not expecting even a little that "I will miss our talks" "No. You won't." Girl really realized at some point he was keeping her around not because of who she was as a person but because it eased Viktor's conscience. And also? Maybe a little bit? That it filled some loneliness inside him that he'd rather have been filled by someone else. Like. Recontextualizing Sky's continued presence in Viktor's head through the finale really makes me feel that it was guilt, yes, but also that he was just. Lonely. Jayce wouldn't have been able to talk him down if Viktor hadn't wanted him back, him, specifically, just as much as Jayce wanted his partner. Sky was there in the hopes she'd fill an emotional void.

In the end I don't know that it was about Viktor's fear and distrust of his own failing body so much as it was that he loved Jayce and for a really long time Jayce didn't see him. It always comes back, to me, to that shot right before the Progress Day speech where Jayce sets that mug down and it eclipses Viktor completely. Viktor loved him and for a long time Jayce seemed to only love himself and what their work had made for him, the kind of life it had given him. And then the first thing Jayce ever did that was unequivocally for Viktor was a gross violation of his bodily autonomy and betrayal of his explicit wishes in putting him in The Goop after the explosion instead of destroying the hexcore and letting him die. And then he came back to kill him. Viktor's dying thoughts end of act ii were of how human emotion is all our undoing and he carried that hurt onward into erasing the world of it. Because he loved Jayce and Jayce didn't, as far as he could tell, love him.

[panchulien]

listen, Price already knows how scary Nik can be, right. He's seen him in combat, seen him do some things without even blinking. So it's no news. Guys big, scary and efficient.

But imagine if Price got to see him in his element. As a leader and a businessman. Guy runs a private military company, he's sure to be busy. Talk with buyers, partners etc. One day when Price happens to be visiting Chimera (wherever the hell their headquarters may be), Nik gets called up. There's guests. So Nikolai invites Price (since it'd be rude to send him away, and Nik doesn't want him to leave just yet) to the meeting, just to observe.

Nikolai is a damn good businessman, he takes what he wants, can negotiate his way in and out of things. Things get serious during the meeting, Nikolai and the others speaking in heated Russian. Price has no idea what's going on but he can see Nikolai isn't happy with whatever they're offering, although slightly amused. He doesn't feel threatened, Price can see that. Price also knows that Nikolai wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet to the man's head right now, with the way he's getting so arrogant and out of his lane. It sends a shiver down Prices spine, once again reminded just what Nik is capable of. The fact that the other men in the room are scared of Nikolai doesn't help either.

They treat him with so much respect, mostly out of fear for their own life, but it makes something swell in Prices chest with pride.

Price almost wants to laugh, with the way Nikolai can switch up so quickly. The gentle, soft-spoken Nikolai that only Price gets to see is not here right now, but rather the colder side of him. Price can't help but feel a little giddy even, having the privilege of getting to see both sides of this beautiful, brilliant man.

The meeting ends with some very unpleased Russians, muttering complaints under their breath after Nikolai stated his conditions and maybe even threatened them a little, the guys being forced to accept it. Y'know, just to make sure they get home safe that day. (I'm kidding. Nikolai is a reasonable businessman. He wouldn't do that now would he?) ((although i do like the idea of him playing dirty ;))

Price would be lying if he said he wasn't impressed by the Nik he saw in there. Cold and harsh, but also quick witted and clever. Gets Price a little hot and bothered to see his man put the fear of god in other people.

(this could be like a... mafia sort of au if you want to make nik more... evil hehe. i do like that idea. nik shooting someone in the head point blank and while price is startled, he feels a sick sense of pride at that. also a raging fucking boner but that's another story)