#but whatever i have it now i’ll be fine

[thesecondhandwoman]

Vi, Jinx, Sevika and Caitlyn (separate) with an s/o who self harms? I couldn't find any rules on your pinned page, so sorry if this violates anything!

SELF HARM CONFESSIONS

Arcane woman x f!reader

Synopsis: How arcane woman (Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Sevika, Ambessa, Mel, Grayson) would react when they find out that you cope with your mental struggles through self-harm and respond with different types of comfort as a result.

Request: Anon 🤍

VI

Vi had always been observant. Her years in the Lanes taught her to read people, spot dangers, and sense when something wasn’t right. That’s why, as much as you tried to hide it, she noticed.

You were seated at the kitchen table, mindlessly picking at the hem of your sleeve unconsciously while Vi leaned against the counter, arms crossed. Her brows furrowed, her red hair glowing faintly under the warm kitchen light.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” she started, her voice soft yet probing. “And don’t tell me you’re just tired, babe. Something’s up.”

You froze, keeping your eyes downcast. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t give me that,” she pushed, stepping closer. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Her use of the pet name chipped away at your resolve, but you stayed silent. Then her hand was on yours, her calloused fingers tugging your sleeve up. You flinched, trying to pull away, but she was faster. Her breath hitched as her eyes landed on the faint scars and fresh marks that littered your arm.

“Sweetheart,” Her voice cracked, breaking through your defenses. Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled your arm away, hiding it in your lap.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words tumbling out like a confession. “I didn’t know how else to—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. She crouched in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Don’t apologize for this. Just why didn’t you tell me?”

You bit your lip, unable to meet her gaze. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Vi let out a shaky laugh, one filled with disbelief and heartbreak. “A burden? Babe, you’re my whole damn world. I’d carry whatever weight you’re holding if it meant you didn’t have to feel like this.”

She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her chest. You sobbed against her, and she held you tighter, her fingers running through your hair.

“We’ll figure this out,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’ve got me, okay? You’re not alone, and I want you to know that.”

JINX

Jinx had been watching you closely for weeks. Her scatterbrained nature didn’t stop her from noticing the way you winced when she grabbed your arm or how you avoided her eyes when she asked if you were okay.

That night, she cornered you in her workshop. The dim lighting cast shadows across her face, her wide blue eyes boring into yours.

“Alright, spill it, toots,” she said, hands on her hips. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, trying to sidestep her. But Jinx wasn’t having it. She grabbed your wrist, gently but firmly, and tugged you closer.

“Liar,” she teased, though there was no humor in her voice. “You’re hiding something.”

When she rolled up your sleeve and saw the faint scars, her playful demeanor evaporated. “What… what is this?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Tears filled your eyes as you tried to pull away. “It’s nothing. Just forget it. I told you, it’s nothing.”

“No way,” she said, her voice wavering. “It’s not nothing, sugarplum, and neither are you, because I know that you are probably thinking that right now to do this. You’re my favorite person.”

The sincerity in her voice made your tears spill over. “I’m sorry, Jinx. I didn’t mean—“

“Shh,” she cut you off, pulling you into a tight hug. “Don’t be sorry. Just promise me you’ll tell me when you’re feeling like that, okay? I’ll never judge you for something like this. We’ll figure it out together, step by step, even if they’re small.”

You nodded against her shoulder, her chaotic energy melting into a rare moment of calm as she held you, lightly rubbing your back.

CAITLYN

Caitlyn had always prided herself on her investigative skills. So when she started noticing the long sleeves you wore in the heat of summer and the distant look in your eyes, she knew something was wrong.

She confronted you one evening in the parlor, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she watched you fidget.

“Darling, is there something you’re not telling me?” she asked, her voice gentle but insistent.

You hesitated, but her sharp eyes didn’t miss the way your hands gripped your sleeves. Without a word, she reached out, brushing her fingers over your wrist.

“Please,” she said softly. “Let me in, tell me what is wrong, dear.”

The tears came unbidden as you rolled up your sleeve, revealing the scars. Caitlyn’s eyes widened, her lips parting in shock, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned closer, taking your hands in hers.

“Oh, my love,” she murmured, her voice breaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you, and I was scared of how you might see me because of this.” you whispered.

Caitlyn shook her head vehemently, her grip tightening. “You could never disappoint me. You’re the most important person in my life. Please, let me help you.”

She pulled you into her arms, holding you like you might break. “We’ll get through this,” she promised, her voice steady. “I’m sorry you’ve felt like this for so long, my love.”

SEVIKA

Sevika wasn’t one to pry, but when she noticed the scars on your arms during a rare moment of intimacy, she couldn’t stay quiet.

“What’s this?” she asked, her voice low and measured as she traced the faint lines with her prosthetic fingers.

You tried to pull away, but her flesh hand caught your wrist. “Don’t,” she said, her tone soft yet firm. “Talk to me.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you couldn’t hold it back anymore, knowing that you were already painted red, so you confessed, your voice shaky. “It’s just… sometimes it’s too much.”

Sevika didn’t speak for a long moment, her eyes locked on yours. Then she pulled you into her lap, wrapping her arms around you protectively.

“Listen to me, doll,” she said, her voice steady. “I don’t care how messy things get—I’m here for you. Always, mk?”

She lifted her hand and lightly cupped your cheek, her expression becoming even more sympathetic as your eyes swelled with unshed tears. “I’ve been through my own rough shit and I get how it is, all tiring, always frustrating, but I promise you aren’t alone.”

You cried into her chest as she stroked your back, murmuring soft reassurances. “You’re my girl,” she said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And I’m not letting you go through this by yourself, doll. I promise.”

AMBESSA

The sound of the door opening made your heart drop into your stomach. You hadn’t expected Ambessa to return so soon. You froze, the small blade still clutched in your trembling hand, red droplets forming at the edges of the fresh cut on your arm.

“Dove?” Ambessa’s voice echoed through the room, low and firm, tinged with the warmth she reserved only for you. You scrambled to pull your sleeve down, your movements clumsy with panic, but it was too late.

Ambessa stood in the doorway, her sharp eyes narrowing as they landed on you, taking in your pale face and the way you hastily tried to hide your arm. She stepped forward, her heavy boots thudding against the floor, and you instinctively backed up, bumping into the edge of the desk behind you.

When she saw how scared you were, skittish and small, she immediately looked confused and worried. “What were you doing?”

You stayed quiet, clenching the hem of your sleeve as you stared down. “Nothing, love, just waiting for you.”

“Let me see,” she said, her tone calm but commanding.

“No,” you stammered, clutching your arm protectively. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Ambessa didn’t respond immediately. Instead, her eyes darted down to the faint stain of blood that had soaked through your sleeve. Her jaw tightened, and she exhaled sharply through her nose.

“Dove,” she said again, softer this time, her voice trembling just slightly. “Please, let me see.”

You hesitated, tears welling in your eyes as you slowly loosened your grip and allowed her to gently take your wrist. She pushed the fabric of your sleeve up with careful fingers, revealing the fresh cut alongside the faint scars of others that came before it. Her eyes moved over the marks, her expression unreadable.

For a moment, the room was silent except for your shallow breaths. Then Ambessa knelt before you, taking your hand in hers. Her usual unshakable confidence seemed to waver as she looked up at you, her golden eyes glistening.

“Why, dove?” she asked softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to stop it from trembling. “I didn’t want you to think I was weak,” you whispered, barely able to meet her gaze.

Ambessa let out a low, shaky breath and reached up to cup your cheek with her free hand. Her palm was warm, grounding against your skin. “Weak?” she repeated, almost incredulous. “You’ve survived so much, little dove. There’s nothing weak about you. But this?” She gestured gently to your arm. “This isn’t something you have to face alone, nor do because it seems like the only reliever.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you broke down, your shoulders shaking with sobs. Ambessa immediately pulled you into her arms, holding you close to her chest. Her embrace was firm but gentle, her chin resting on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, clutching at her shirt.

“No, dove,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Don’t apologize. Just let me help you. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words wrapped around you like a safety net, her steady presence making the weight you’d been carrying just a little easier to bear. She rocked you gently, her strong hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“We’ll get through this together,” she whispered, her voice as steady as her resolve. “I’ll fight every battle with you, dove. You don’t have to bleed alone.”

You nodded weakly against her chest, your tears soaking into her shirt as she continued to hold you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Because to her, you were.

MEL

Mel had a way of drawing the truth out of people, her natural elegance and empathy making it impossible to lie to her. When she first noticed the scars on your arm, a fleeting glimpse as you adjusted your sleeve, she didn’t say anything. Not right away. Instead, she observed, waiting for the right moment to approach you.

That moment came one quiet evening in her private study. You’d been sitting together in silence, the golden glow of the lamps illuminating her features as she worked on a painting.

“My love,” she began, her tone casual yet deliberate, “I’ve noticed something. Will you talk to me about it?”

You stiffened, your heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

She set her brush down, turning to face you fully. Her gaze was gentle, but it pierced through every wall you’d built. “I saw the scars, darling,” she said softly. “You don’t have to hide them from me.”

Your breath caught, and tears filled your eyes but you held them back as you stammered, “I—I don’t know what you are talking about, love.”

Mel crossed the room and knelt in front of you, taking your hands in hers. “Y/N, my love, you do know that you don’t have to hide this from me, yes? I know it may be a sensitive topic, and I get if you are not ready to fully talk about it, but I hate to see you hurt yourself.”

You stared down at her as the tears stung to far and started trailing down your cheeks, causing you to choke on a sob. “I—I just didn’t want to see how weak I am, especially if it makes me do this.”

Mel paused, looking at you with a look of disbelief and love. “Weak? My love, you are not weak for surviving through the pain in your own way. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do it alone, not anymore atleast.”

She brought your hands to her lips, kissing them tenderly. “I want to help you, however I can. You are everything to me.”

Her words broke through the dam, and you sobbed as she pulled you into her arms. “You’re safe with me,” she whispered, stroking your hair. “Always.”

GRAYSON

Grayson was the epitome of calm and collected, especially due to being an enforcer. Her steady presence made you feel safe, but it also made it hard to open up about the pain you carried. Still, she wasn’t one to ignore when someone she loved was struggling.

She first noticed when she brushed against your arm during a casual hug, her keen eyes catching the slight flinch you tried to hide. Grayson didn’t say anything then, but later that evening, right after shift as you sat together on the couch with a cup of tea, she addressed it.

“Darling,” she began, setting her tea aside. “I’ve noticed something, and I need you to be honest with me.”

You froze, your cup trembling in your hands. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes softened as she reached out, placing a hand over yours. “I saw the marks, love. You don’t have to explain if you’re not ready, but I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you glanced at her before looking down at your wrists. You could feel the pain rise just from looking at the area, but the reminder that it helped.

Slowly, you took a breath and whispered, “I didn’t want to worry you. You’re always so strong, and I didn’t want to bother you with this.”

Grayson’s expression shifted, a flicker of heartbreak crossing her face. She set your cup aside and pulled you into her arms, her embrace gentle yet firm.

“Oh, darling,” she murmured, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You’re never a bother to me. You’re the most important thing in my life.”

Her calm voice washed over you like a balm. “Whatever’s hurting you, I want to be here. Whether it’s listening or talking with you about other options, I couldn’t care less, as long as you know that we are doing it together.”

You sobbed against her, and she held you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice steady. “More than anything. And I’ll always be here for you.”

A/N: I honestly got a lot of requests for this, and I know that it might be a very sensitive topic for some people. However, for however it touches on a more personal level, I hope that you guys are okay and know that you are enough (and hoping this was able to comfort you a little).

[echo-riot]

✞⛧Drunk Texts from Sevika ✞⛧

[3:47 AM - sevika]

Where the hell are you.

[3:52 AM]

I can’t find my keys.

Did you move them?

Don’t lie to me.

[4:03 AM]

Okay. I found them. Never mind.

You left the light off in the hall. Almost fell.

Trying to kill me or something?

[4:15 AM]

You’re probably asleep.

Good. Stay that way.

I’m coming home. Don’t get mad if I wake you up. That’s on you.

[4:18 AM]

Forget what I said.

You better be awake when I get there.

[4:32 AM]

I miss you.

Don’t tell anyone I said that.

Delete this message.

[4:40 AM]

I’m outside. Open the door.

Wait. Don’t open the door.

I got it.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[1:15 AM - Sevika]

yo. you up?

wait i kno ur up

u alwasy wait 4 me lol loser

miss me?

[1:17 AM - You]

You just left two hours ago. Are you drunk already?

[1:18 AM - Sevika]

pfft no

im fine. like FINE fine

everybody herez lookin at me

prolly think im hot

[1:19 AM - You]

Or they’re staring because you’re typing while glaring at them. Be nice, Sevika.

[1:21 AM - Sevika]

u kno me im so NICE

just told sum guy id break his jaw

he looked at me FUNNY

…or maybe his nose idk he left fast lol

[1:22 AM - You]

Sevika. Stop scaring people.

[1:25 AM - Sevika]

nah. scared ppl r funny

bt not u. ur cute. like a bunny. lil bunny. my bunny.

u wanna sit on my lap again? bet u do. bet ur blushing rn.

[1:26 AM - You]

Sevika, you’re ridiculous. Are you drunk flirting with me? You live here. Just come home.

[1:29 AM - Sevika]

no im GOOD HERE.

this chair is kinda comfy but not like MY CHAIR. u kno the one i let u sit in.

U BETTER NOT BE IN MY CHAIR RN

[1:30 AM - You]

…I’m in your chair right now, actually. Feet up and everything.

[1:32 AM - Sevika]

wHAT THE FUQ

DISRESEPCTFUL AS HELL

im takin ur chair privlages when i get home.

wait r u waitin 4 me in my shirt 2?

[1:33 AM - You]

I’m literally in your shirt AND your chair. You gonna do something about it or just keep texting like a drunk idiot?

[1:35 AM - Sevika]

ok LISTEN u lil gremlin

ur gettin kidnapped when i get back

ur goin STRAIGHT to my bed. no more chair 4 u.

u think im jokin? bet.

[1:36 AM - You]

Oh no, whatever will I do? Guess I’ll just have to wait here like the little bunny I am.

[1:38 AM - Sevika]

stop bein cute im tryna be mad >:(

also ur def not a gremlin ur MY bunny

fine im comin home rn

…after one more drink

[1:40 AM - You]

If you come home smelling like beer and trouble again, I’m locking you out.

[1:41 AM - Sevika]

lmao ok but then who’s gonna carry u to bed?

face it baby u need me. luv u but dont tell anyone i said that.

[1:42 AM - You]

I’m screenshotting this.

[1:44 AM - Sevika]

delete that or ur grounded

also open the door when i get there

i lost my keys.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[12:56 AM - Sevika]

yooo

why iz the floor so sticky in here

feels like im walkin on a damn flytrap

someone buy me new boots rn

[12:57 AM - You]

That’s because you keep going to The Last Drop, Sev. Why don’t you ever drink somewhere normal?

[12:59 AM - Sevika]

cuz i own this place

kinda

like spiritually

everybody knows me here

bartender just gave me a free shot for “looking scary”

i think that’s a compliment

[1:01 AM - You]

It’s… something. Are you already drunk or just being you?

[1:03 AM - Sevika]

im DRINKIN rn duh

but im fine like always

bet i could arm wrestle half the bar and win rn

u think i should? for fun?

[1:05 AM - You]

No, Sev. Please don’t break someone’s arm again. Last time you did that, you came home with their wallet as a “souvenir.”

[1:08 AM - Sevika]

lmao i forgot about that guy

he cried like a baby

funniest night of my life tbh

i’ll bring u a new souvenir tonight if ur lucky

[1:10 AM - You]

I don’t need any “souvenirs,” Sev. Just come home in one piece.

[1:12 AM - Sevika]

pfft u worry too much

like a lil wife or somethin

wait

r u my wife??

we shud get married rn. i’ll find a guy to do it

[1:14 AM - You]

Sevika. No. Don’t get married at The Last Drop. That’s not even legally binding.

[1:16 AM - Sevika]

ur no fun. but u kno wuts fun?

thinkin about u

and ur face

ur face is stupid cute

[1:17 AM - You]

How drunk are you right now? Be honest.

[1:19 AM - Sevika]

uhhhh

like 3 beers and 2 shots worth of drunk

and one guy’s dumb enough to bet me i can’t throw a knife at the wall n hit the same spot twice

[1:20 AM - You]

SEVIKA NO.

[1:22 AM - Sevika]

relax babe i won the bet obvi

made 20 bucks

and the guy is buyin me another round

u married a genius

[1:23 AM - You]

I didn’t marry you. Yet. But keep this up, and I might leave you for someone safer.

[1:25 AM - Sevika]

lmao shut up u love me

im sexy AND scary

also i jus told some idiot to stop lookin at me

…or maybe he was lookin at my drink? idk

[1:27 AM - You]

You’re the reason we can’t have nice things. Now come home before you start a bar fight.

[1:29 AM - Sevika]

but if i don’t start fights who will??

jk i’ll finish my drink

n maybe stop at that sandwich place on the way home

u want anything or nah?

[1:31 AM - You]

Yes, get me a sandwich. And try not to scare the cashier this time.

[1:33 AM - Sevika]

no promises babe

but i luv u

dont wait up

unless u wanna be awake when i get there ;)

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[janeyseymour]

Overheated

Summary: sometimes you faint. a certain someone is always there to catch you.

WC: ~2.3k

“Melissa, I’m fine,” you grumble as you roll out of bed that day. “Just PMS.”

“And you know how that shit knocks you out,” your wife mutters, although she does allow you to get up. She knows you’ve already used your sick days earlier in the year when you caught the flu.

“Well, it can’t today,” you grunt and groan as you change into your work clothes. “I can’t afford to not get paid, and I don’t want Mr. J as my sub again.”

“I told you, we can survive without one day of your pay if you really feel as shitty as I think you do,” Melissa tells you as she snakes her arms around your waist and presses a kiss to your temple.

You turn slightly in her arms to kiss her softly. “I know, but I really don’t need Mr. J teaching my kids that the moon landing was fake.”

“You know my thoughts on that conspiracy theory,” the redhead chuckles softly as she lets you go. When you grimace in pain, she mumbles to herself, “Can’t forget the heating pad and Midol today.”

“And Excedrin,” you whine.

“Hun, if your head is pounding too,” Melissa looks to you with sympathy.

You stand strong though. “I’m going. I’ll just teach with the lights off and from my desk today.”

“Stubborn as a Schemmenti,” your wife rolls her eyes. “I swear.”

“I am a Schemmenti now,” you quip with a smirk before you feel a shoot pain that causes you to wince.

“And I am so thankful for that,” Melissa promises you as she kisses your head again. With that, the two of you head down the steps for breakfast.

Your breakfast is, while painful, a wonderfully quiet and warm haze. Your wife all but forces you to sit at the table while she prepares the coffee and meal, along with handing you the hot water bottle for you to hold to your abdomen.

As you leave for work, you would venture to say that you feel slightly better than you did when you first woke up. Still, you know you probably shouldn’t push yourself too hard. You vow to yourself (and your fiercely protective spouse) that you’ll do everything you can to teach from your chair today.

For whatever reason, your students are completely out of hand today in every single way. From the second they step into your classroom, you can tell it’s going to be a terrible day- a day where no matter how much you want to resign yourself to sitting in your chair, you simply can’t. You find yourself hovering over your students no matter what their assignment is, pacing the aisles that you’ve created in your classroom. It’s terrible- completely and utterly horrid. You can’t sit with your heating pad, you didn’t even bring a hot water bottle, your head has started to pound again with the class’s volume. It’s absurd.

When lunch time comes around for your students, you practically drag them down- hopeful for a full lunch period of peace and quiet in your classroom; you’ve already decided that you aren’t making it to the staff lounge today. Instead you’ll take your wife’s teasing at the fact that you are so unwell that you couldn’t even fathom coming to have lunch with her.

But of course, because as the universe decides, you don’t get to treat yourself to a quiet lunch. No, instead, you’re running around like an idiot trying to make sure that you’re students all have lunch, and when you think you’ll be able to go for the last ten minutes to eat your lunch in silence, you’re pulled into an issue surrounding your student who hasn’t had lunch money for the past two weeks (a problem unknown to you).

You go in circles with Shanae for a few minutes before you finally roll your eyes and fork over the money in order to get him a lunch and placate the irritable lunch lady.

“Coulda done that in the first place,” she grumbles as she snatches the money from your hand and begins to count it.

At this point, you only have about five minutes left of your lunch time. There’s no use in going to back to your classroom- not when you would just have to turn right back around. So instead, you sit in the hallway for the last few minutes before leading them back down to your classroom.

You think to yourself that you’ll just eat while your kids have their special, only to realize that you indeed do not have a special. You lost the only time to yourself today. You sigh as you instruct your students to get out a book for five minutes while you collect yourself again.

Hastily, you reach for your phone, hoping to convince your wife to bring you your meal from the staffroom. Upon the device lighting up, you see quite a few concerned messages from Melissa.

You coming down for lunch?

Hun?

I’m coming to your room.

Did you leave early?

And then a few minutes later, the last text comes in. Saw you in the cafeteria. Love you.

Sorry, you respond. Had an issue with Taijon’s lunch and left my phone in the classroom. Do you think you have a few minutes to bring me my lunch?

I can’t, your wife texts. I don’t have prep today- with the gym teacher out. I’m sorry hun. Are you okay? I can have Barb head down during her prep?

No, no, don’t bother her. I’ll be fine.

Are you fine?

I will be, you send before setting your phone down and starting class again. 

It turns out, as luck would have it, that you are indeed not fine. Despite the Diet Coke that you put into your purse this morning for an extra jolt of caffeine, your head is still pounding, you’re absolutely exhausted, and your cramps are only getting worse. Whether they’re getting worse because your period is incoming or if it’s because you haven’t eaten anything other than the few bites of breakfast you could manage because of your nausea, who can say. 

Your wife sees how pale and slightly green you look while you’re dismissing your students. She knows that tonight is going to be an early night, one with a heating pad pressed against your abdomen, and in turn, hers because you’ll be laying on top of her.

“How’re you feeling?” she still asks you as she makes her way over.

“Fine,” you grumble. “Just want to get home.”

“As soon as all of the kids are gone, we can sneak out. Yeah?” You can only nod.

It’s a few minutes later that all of your kids have left the school grounds, and you sigh in slight discomfort as you make your way back into the school. You’re starting to feel warmer and warmer, and the redhead has an arm around your waist the entire walk down to your classroom, where she gathers your things for you and slings them over her shoulder. And then the two of you are making your way down to her classroom. And while you really did think you were fine- that you just had to make it home before collapsing onto the couch and staying there until it was time to retire for bed- but it turns out you aren’t. You start to stumble just slightly as a wave of dizziness hits you to accompany the hot flash you seem to be in the middle of. 

“Hun?” Melissa’s eyes quickly dart to you as she feels just the slightest shift in weight.

You’re able to catch yourself on her doorframe. “I’m good. Just a little-”

And then you go down. Melissa’s one arm isn’t strong enough to hold you up as you faint in her arm. To her credit though, your wife does try to grab you with her other hand. Unfortunately, she’s not quick enough, and her engagement ring manages to catch on the skin of your cheek as she flounders to reach for you and cuts you.

“Fuck!” your wife yells out loud enough to attract the attention of the teachers who have also come inside. Barbara is the first one to run to Melissa’s room- only to see you on the floor with a bloody cheek that is now spilling onto the carpet.

“Oh dear God!” the kindergarten teacher sputters as she kneels down beside you and the redhead. “What happened?”

“I- I don’t know,” Melissa mutters as she lays you down on your back. “She hasn’t been feeling well, but I-”

You open your eyes groggily, only to groan at the florescent lights hitting you. You screw them shut again.

“Mi amore,” your wife mumbles as she presses a tissue to your cheek. Then she turns to look at Barbara. “Can you grab me her bottle of water?”

No sooner is your water bottle straw being brought to your lips as Melissa props you up, and you take a sip quickly. And then you’re trying to sit up on your own and pull the tissue catching your blood from your face. Strong hands just keep you on the ground though.

“Lis, I’m perfectly-”

“Did you want to finish that thought?” the redhead interrupts you. “Did you want to finish blaming that you’re perfectly fine? Or are you going to faint again?”

You jut out your bottom lip as you succeed in pulling the tissue away from you cheek. “Be nice to me,” you pout. “I’m injured, and not feeling well.”

Green eyes are rolled with such love. “Oh, so now you admit it? There’s blood on my floor.”

“I’ll clean it up.” You go to move, but once again, you’re glued to the woman holding you in her arms.

“Like hell you will,” Melissa mumbles as she presses a kiss to your unmarked cheek. “What you will be doing is laying on the floor for a few minutes while I clean it up, and then we’re going home.”

“Dear, why did you faint?” Barbara asks as she switches places with the redhead. “Did you eat today?”

You hum softly as you take another sip of water. “I had a few bites of breakfast this morning, but that’s all I could manage.”

“No wonder you passed out. Why didn’t you eat lunch?”

You shrug.

“Or ask one of us to bring it to you?”

Again, you shrug. “Didn’t want to be a bother.”

“Next time,” both older women grumble. “Be a smaller bother than fainting after school.”

“Noted.”

It’s only a few minutes later that you’re feeling well enough to sit up on your own. And when you go to stand, you find that you’re instead being swept off your feet and into the arms of your wife.

“You’re not fainting again,” Melissa tells you sternly. She whisks you out of the classroom and in the direction of your cars, leaving Barbara to follow along with all of your belongings.

“Guys,” you grumble, although you do wrap your arms around Melissa’s neck and lean into her slightly. “I’m fine.”

“Fine my ass,” Melissa huffs as she sets you down in the passenger seat. She turns to the kindergarten teacher and takes both of your belongs before sighing. “Thanks for the help, Barb.”

“Anything for family,” the woman smiles sweetly, although then she turns to you with a stern look. “I do hope that you won’t be making a habit of this though.”

You turn red under Barbara’s steely gaze. “I won’t.” 

Since that first incident, you’ve been a lot better about taking care of yourself- although you do have to admit that sometimes you’re only remembering to take care of yourself because of your wonderful wife (and Barbara, at times). You don’t end up fainting at school again- thank goodness.

Well, that is until you’re attempting to hide the fact that you’re pregnant. You and your wife had only recently discovered that you were with child.

It’s May- an unusually hot month that you’re sitting in a school without air conditioning. You can feel the flush in your cheeks as you’re sitting in the staff room with your coworkers, your wife’s hand resting warmly on your thigh.

“Off,” you mumble as you practically throw her hand off of you and begin to fan yourself with your hand.

The redhead looks at you, clearly confused, but then she sees the red in your cheeks, and she knows you’re going through a hot flash- one of the few symptoms that you’ve had of this pregnancy so far.

“Are you-” and then you go down.

Melissa, who had dealt with this a few times (the first time being when you had passed out and she forced you to take a test), moves in a calm and purposeful manner. She has the lollipop to help with the nausea that is bound to overtake you, your water bottle, and then she’s down by your side quickly.

“She’s eating!” Barbara shouts in disbelief. “How could she faint?!”

When you come to a few seconds later, you let out a heavy sigh. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

“If you knew you were getting overheated, you should’ve asked for an ice pack like you do at home,” you wife tuts.

“Sorry,” you mumble as you take a few sips of water.

“This isn’t good for you or the baby,” Melissa sighs, entirely forgetting where she’s at in the moment. The only thing she cares about is you.

“The what?!” Jacob practically shouts, being the first one to hear this news and let it sink in.

“You’re with child?!” Barbara cries not a moment later.

You bite your lip and look to your wife, who is about as red as her hair. “Uhm… surprise?”

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[prettymfwrites]

paige x reader where in they pretend to be together because reader’s ex was in the bar with a new girl so r decides to just randomly kiss p? if you know that one scene from nick & norah’s infinite playlist it’s something like that 💕 i hope u give this one a try!

Not Pretending

Paige bueckers x female reader

Hope this doesn't disappoint! 🙏🏾

Sorry for any mistakes🙃

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･* *･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

The dim glow of the bar’s neon lights painted the room in shades of amber and red, the bass of the music reverberating through the floor as people crowded around tables and leaned against the bar. You were nursing your drink, trying to ignore the knot tightening in your stomach. Across the room, there they were: your ex, laughing and leaning into someone new, their hand brushing against hers in a way that felt far too familiar.

"Of all the places..." you muttered to yourself, tilting your glass back and downing what was left of your drink.

“Did you say something?” Paige asked from beside you, leaning her elbows casually on the counter. She was dressed in her usual relaxed streetwear, her blonde hair tucked into a braided pony. You had met her a few times before through mutual friends, and she’d somehow ended up as your companion for the evening after everyone else had bailed.

“Nothing. Just talking to my drink,” you replied with a forced laugh, setting your glass down.

Paige raised a brow, following your line of sight. “Oh, yikes. Is that your ex?”

“Unfortunately,” you said, trying to act unaffected. “And look who’s already moved on. A whole two months, and they’re out here playing house with someone new.”

Paige grimaced. “That’s rough.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered.

You tried to focus on anything else, but every laugh and touch between your ex and their date felt like salt in an open wound. You shifted in your seat, your jaw clenching as you turned away.

“You okay?” Paige asked, her tone softening.

“Yeah, totally fine. Just love seeing my replacement in 4K,” you said sarcastically, reaching for your empty glass before realizing it was, well, empty.

Paige chuckled. “You’re taking this like a champ, though. No tears or dramatic storming out.”

“Oh, I’m dramatic,” you shot back. “Just trying to figure out my next move.”

Paige tilted her head, her curious eyes narrowing. “What kind of move are we talking about here?”

You opened your mouth to answer but froze. An idea—a completely ridiculous, impulsive, and chaotic idea—popped into your head.

“Okay, don’t laugh,” you started, leaning closer to her.

“That’s a great way to make me want to laugh,” Paige teased, but she gestured for you to continue.

“What if...” you began, voice dropping, “you and I pretended to be together? Just for tonight. Nothing serious, just... to make them squirm a little.”

Paige blinked at you, then tilted her head back with a laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” you said, your eyes locked on hers. “Look, you don’t have to do anything crazy. Just... maybe hang out with me for a bit, be my fake girlfriend, and if they look over, we sell it.”

Paige smirked, clearly amused by your sudden proposal. “Okay, two things. One, you’re bold as hell for asking me this. And two... what’s in it for me?”

“I’ll owe you one,” you said quickly. “Big time. Like, I’ll buy you smoothies for a week or whatever you want. Just—please?”

Paige sighed dramatically, but there was a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “Alright, fine. Let’s do it. But you better make this worth my while.”

“Deal,” you said, standing up and holding out your hand. Paige took it, her grip firm as she followed you away from the bar.

You made sure to walk past your ex’s table, your hand still in Paige’s. As you approached, your ex glanced up, their expression shifting from surprise to something you couldn’t quite place.

“Oh, hey,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t noticed them until just now. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Uh, yeah,” your ex stammered, their eyes darting between you and Paige.

“And who’s this?” Paige asked smoothly, slipping her arm around your waist and smiling at your ex.

“This is...” You trailed off, waiting for your ex to fill in the blanks.

“Emily,” they said, gesturing to their date.

“Nice to meet you, Emily,” Paige said, her tone friendly but laced with just enough confidence to make it clear she wasn’t just a random friend. “I’m Paige.”

Your ex opened their mouth to respond, but before they could, you turned to Paige with a grin. “Baby, want to grab a booth? I’m kind of over standing around.”

“Anything for you,” Paige replied, her voice light but convincing as she pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

You swore you heard your ex choke on their drink as Paige led you away, her hand still firmly around your waist.

Once you were seated, you couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re a natural.”

Paige shrugged, her smile smug. “What can I say? I commit to the bit.”

“Well, thanks for committing. I owe you one,” you said, leaning back in the booth.

She smiled, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. “Good. Because I’m holding you to it.”

“No worries,” Paige said, taking a sip of her drink. “Honestly, that was kind of fun. Your ex looked like they were about to combust.”

“Good. They deserve it,” you said, smirking

______________

The night wore on with the two of you sitting close in the booth, trading stories and jokes, the comfortable banter punctuated by occasional glances from your ex across the room. At first, you thought you were imagining it, but each time you looked, there they were—staring, their expression unreadable.

“Yup, they’re watching again,” Paige murmured, sipping her drink.

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. “Think they’re jealous yet?”

Paige smirked, her blue eyes sparkling. “If they’re not, they’re in denial. You’re killing it tonight, by the way.”

You laughed softly. “I think you’re the one doing the heavy lifting here. Thanks for being so... convincing.”

“Convincing?” Paige tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful grin. “Come on, I’m practically Oscar-worthy.”

“Okay, fine. You’re a natural,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself.

Her gaze lingered on you a second longer than necessary, and you felt your stomach do an unexpected flip. You brushed it off, chalking it up to the adrenaline of the situation.

As the night wound down, the two of you finally decided to leave. Paige stood first, offering you her hand with an exaggerated flourish. “M’lady.”

You laughed but took her hand anyway, letting her pull you to your feet. The warmth of her touch lingered longer than it should have, and as you made your way toward the exit, you couldn’t help but feel hyper-aware of how close she was to you.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed your ex again. They weren’t just glancing this time—they were outright staring, their jaw tight, their date clearly trying to get their attention.

Without thinking, you stopped in your tracks, your heart racing.

“What?” Paige asked, turning to you, her brow furrowed.

“They’re still looking,” you whispered, your voice laced with irritation.

Paige raised a brow. “So? Let them look. You’ve already won.”

But you weren’t satisfied. Something about their gaze, their audacity to act so unbothered when you knew they were bothered, made you want to take things one step further.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you turned to Paige and grabbed her by the front of her jacket, pulling her down toward you.

“What are you—” Paige started, but her words were cut off as your lips pressed against hers.

For a second, it was just you making a point—a kiss meant to sell the charade, to make your ex regret every decision they’d ever made. But then Paige kissed you back.

Her hands found your waist, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss, and suddenly, it wasn’t about your ex anymore. It was about the way her lips felt against yours, soft and sure, like she’d been waiting for this moment as much as you had. The world around you faded, the noise of the bar and the weight of the past dissolving into nothing.

When you finally broke apart, your breath came in short bursts, and Paige’s eyes were searching yours, her cheeks flushed.

“Are we even pretending anymore?” she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Not at all.”

Paige chuckled softly, her forehead resting against yours. “Good. Because I’m definitely not faking that.”

You laughed, your hand still clutching her jacket as you glanced toward the bar. Your ex was no longer looking—probably too stunned to process what they’d just seen.

“Guess we really sold it, huh?” you teased.

“Yeah, but I think I want a few more practice runs,” Paige said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was hammering in your chest. “Smooth.”

Paige grinned, stepping back but keeping her hand in yours as you walked out of the bar together. The cool night air hit your face, but it didn’t matter. You were too busy stealing glances at the girl beside you, wondering how a fake relationship had turned into something that felt a little too real—and hoping she felt the same.

As if reading your mind, Paige squeezed your hand. “So... about those smoothies you owe me.”

You laughed, the tension between you easing into something warm and comfortable. “I’ll buy you as many as you want. Just... maybe come with me again next time. You know, in case my ex decides to show up somewhere else.”

Paige smirked, leaning closer. “Deal. But next time, we’re not pretending.”

“Not even a little bit.”

I take requests!🧡

[deliciousangelfestival]

Change of Heart - 2 | Bucky

Character: Bucky x Female! Reader

Theme: Angst, tragedy, romance.

Summary: The interviewer asked her a provocative question:

“If you were offered a million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Without hesitation, she replied with a smirk, “Give me one dollar, and I’ll leave him this second.”

True to her word, she walked away, leaving the man stunned and searching for answers. Now, he’s desperately trying to find her, grappling with the haunting question—why would she leave him so easily?

And is there more to her departure than a single dollar could ever explain?

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 ,-

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“Fine,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. He knew there was no point in pushing further. Grace was like a fortress, guarding whatever secrets you had entrusted her with. Talking to her felt futile, like arguing with a wall that refused to crack.

“I won’t press you for more answers,” he said, his voice softening, though the tension lingered in his tone. “At least tell me this—is she in trouble? Is someone trying to hurt her or threaten her?” His jaw tightened as he spoke, his concern leaking through despite his best effort to remain composed.

Grace hesitated before answering. “No,” she replied firmly, her gaze unwavering.

A part of Bucky felt a wave of relief at her reassurance. If Grace said you weren’t in danger, then maybe you were safe. But another part of him sank deeper into confusion and sadness. For two years, you had been his constant, his safe harbor.

You weren’t just his wife on paper; you had been someone he could rely on, someone who listened to him without judgment. Now, the thought that you might be facing something he had overlooked made him feel hollow.

Had he missed something? Overlooked a sign? The thought gnawed at him as he stood there in silence. You had always been a good listener, absorbing his worries and frustrations like a sponge. Better than any therapist he’d ever paid for. In fact, since marrying you, he had stopped going to therapy altogether.

But then it hit him. You’d rarely opened up about your own life. He couldn’t even recall the last time you shared anything personal. Was that his failure? Not listening to you when you needed him most? His chest tightened with guilt as he realized that the contract, which was supposed to ensure mutual understanding, might have become a barrier instead of a bridge.

Before he could say anything else, his phone buzzed, breaking his train of thought. He glanced at the screen and saw the agency’s number.

“Mr. Barnes, it’s about the arrangement,” the voice on the other end said.

“What is it?” His tone was curt, impatient.

“Your wife has decided not to renew the contract.”

He gritted his teeth. “I know that already.”

“Yes, sir,” the voice continued, cautiously. “But she also returned the money you gave her.”

Bucky froze, his grip on the phone tightening. “What?”

“She left it with us. I’m sorry for the way this unfolded, Mr. Barnes. If you have time, we’d like to meet and discuss this in person.”

He clenched his jaw. “I’ll think about it.”

“Understood. One more thing—Miss L/N left a message. She wanted you to know that she’s sorry.”

Bucky ended the call without a word. His mind was racing, a cacophony of thoughts and emotions he couldn’t untangle.

As he turned to leave, Grace finally broke her silence. “She told me to tell you not to look for her,” she said, her voice low but resolute.

Her words landed like a punch to his gut. He turned back to face her, his expression a mixture of disbelief and sorrow. His fists clenched at his sides, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything.

“Don’t look for her,” Grace repeated, softer this time, as if trying to ease the blow.

Bucky’s lips parted, but no words came out. He swallowed hard, his throat tight. Without another word, he turned and walked away, her parting message crushing him with every step.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The matchmaking agency didn’t have an official name. To the outside world, it appeared to be an upscale wedding organizer. But beneath the surface, it operated a discreet business, catering to an elite clientele. The agency specialized in PR, celebrity pairings, and finding partners for those seeking unconventional marriages.

To join this matchmaking service, clients paid exorbitant fees, a cost justified by the agency’s ironclad guarantee of success and confidentiality. This exclusivity made it accessible only to the wealthiest 1%. For most clients, love wasn’t a priority. Many were too jaded, too broken, or simply unwilling to risk their hearts again, yet they craved the semblance of companionship.

Companionship didn’t necessarily mean intimacy. Some sought emotional connections without physical ties, while others wanted a blend of friendship and trust. In essence, the agency sold what its clients desired most: a reliable partner tailored to their needs.

That’s where Bucky came in. He wasn’t looking for love. He needed someone he could trust, someone who fit seamlessly into his life. You had checked every box. You charmed his parents and, more importantly, his grandfather—a critical seal of approval.

Now, Bucky sat in the CEO’s office of the agency, his jaw set and his posture rigid. The room was sleek and modern, dominated by a white sofa where both of them sat. He accepted the black tea she offered but barely touched it.

The CEO, a sharp-eyed woman in her late forties, sat across from him, her demeanor professional but empathetic. She had started this agency after her own marriage fell apart. Betrayed by her husband’s infidelity and weary of meaningless dates, she realized she wasn’t alone. Many shared her frustration with traditional relationships. That realization had birthed her unique matchmaking business.

She leaned forward slightly, her expression neutral but observant. “Thank you for making time to meet with me, Mr. Barnes,” she began.

Bucky’s voice was clipped. “Do you know what she did?”

“Yes,” the CEO replied calmly. “She came here yesterday and asked me to give you these.” She placed two envelopes on the table between them.

“This one contains the check for the money she received. She’s returning it to you. The other is a letter she wanted you to have.”

Bucky’s gaze dropped to the envelopes. They were unassuming, just thin paper, yet they felt heavier than the multimillion-dollar contracts he signed daily. He hesitated, his fingers brushing over the edges. Despite his composed exterior, uncertainty gnawed at him.

“Would you like me to open them for you?” the CEO asked gently.

“No, thank you.” His voice was firm, though his hand trembled slightly as he picked up the envelopes.

Slowly, he opened the first one. Inside was a check for the exact amount you’d received when signing the contract—$2 million for two years.

His chest tightened. So that damn $1 was enough to make you leave? Why?

Didn’t you say the money was meant to help you break free from your parents’ control? You wanted to save it to open a café, to buy a boat, to carve out a life of your own.

With a deep breath, he opened the second envelope. This was the one you had specifically instructed to be given to him. He unfolded the paper, hoping for answers, for clarity.

Instead, there was only one sentence:

“It’s not you. It’s me.”

Bucky scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. His grip on the paper tightened as his jaw clenched. What kind of joke is this? Of all people, he never thought he’d be the one on the receiving end of such a cliché. And didn’t everyone know? The person who said those words was usually the one placing blame.

So it is me. I’m the reason you left.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes as the weight of realization settled over him. He thought back to the countless times you’d listened to him, your quiet understanding, your patience. Had he ever done the same for you? Had he missed the signs that you were unhappy?

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Did you see her face yesterday?” he asked, his voice low but steady.

“Yes,” the CEO replied, her expression unreadable.

“What did you see? Was she sad? Angry? Happy?”

The CEO took a moment before answering. “I sensed relief when she handed me the check.”

Bucky’s shoulders tensed, his chest constricting at her words. Relief? Was that all you felt after two years together?

“But,” she continued, her voice softening, “when she gave me the letter for you, I saw regret in her eyes.”

Bucky froze, those five words—I saw regret in her eyes—hitting him like a punch to the gut. He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the letter still clutched in his hand.

If you regretted it, why did you leave? Why didn’t you say anything? Was it really so unbearable to stay?

His thoughts spiraled as he sat there, motionless, staring at the remnants of what he thought was a stable arrangement. The unanswered questions twisted in his mind, leaving a hollow ache in their wake.

“Forgive my frankness, Mr. Barnes,” the CEO began, her tone professional yet slightly playful. “Since you’re officially single now, would you like me to add you back to the list?”

Bucky’s eyes darkened, and his jaw tightened as he leveled a cold glare at her. “Marriage is the last thing on my mind.”

The CEO nodded, her smile faint and understanding. “Of course. I apologize for asking.”

Bucky stood, adjusting his suit jacket with deliberate movements, signaling the end of the conversation. He turned to leave, but the CEO rose to her feet and extended her hand toward him.

“It’s been a privilege having you as our client, Mr. Barnes,” she said with a polite smile. “I hope our paths cross again.”

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded her. After a brief hesitation, he reached out and shook her hand, his grip firm but curt. “This is the last time I’ll be here.”

Her smile didn’t falter, remaining calm and composed. “Safe travels, Mr. Barnes. And thank you for using our services.”

Bucky released her hand without another word, his expression unreadable as he turned on his heel and strode toward the exit. His footsteps echoed in the quiet, elegant office, a stark reminder that this chapter of his life was closing for good.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bucky slid into the backseat of his car, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror, hesitant but professional. “Where to, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky exhaled sharply, leaning back against the seat. “To Grandpa’s house.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the car wove through the streets, Bucky stared out the window, lost in thought. His mind wandered to his grandfather, Paul—stubborn, sharp-tongued, and annoyingly perceptive. He wondered if the old man already knew you had left or if he was still blissfully unaware.

Ever since you met his family, you’d formed an immediate bond with Paul. The connection between you two had been almost effortless. You once told Bucky that, having never known your own grandparents, you’d always yearned for an elder figure in your life.

For Paul, who often clashed with Bucky during their 20-minute tolerance window, you were a revelation. You brought out a side of him Bucky rarely saw—a livelier, softer version of the strict, commanding patriarch. Paul saw in you the granddaughter he’d always wished for: someone who called him, visited him, and actually listened to his long-winded stories.

Yet even that bond hadn’t been enough to make you stay.

When the car pulled up to the grand estate, Bucky stepped out and made his way inside, his movements tense and deliberate. He headed toward Paul’s study, where the old man often spent his afternoons.

Pushing open the door, he paused. Paul sat in his wheelchair by the fireplace, glasses perched on his nose, reading a letter. The firelight cast warm hues across the room, highlighting the lined face of a man who had lived through decades of triumphs and disappointments.

Before Bucky could announce his presence, Paul’s voice broke the silence.

“She left, didn’t she?” The elder’s tone was heavy, filled with resignation. He crumpled the letter in his hands and tossed it into the flames, watching as it curled into ash.

Bucky froze, guilt knotting in his chest. “She… she said goodbye to you?”

Paul didn’t look up. “And about the agency.”

Bucky’s stomach dropped. His mind raced, scrambling for an explanation. Did Grandpa know everything?

“Grandpa, I can explain—”

“Shut up, you stupid boy!” Paul snapped, his voice rising with a force that belied his age. His hand moved to his chest as if to steady himself. “You fooled me twice, Bucky. Twice! First, you made me believe your marriage was real. Then, you made me believe I finally had a granddaughter.”

Bucky instinctively stepped closer, his hand resting gently on Paul’s shoulder, his other moving to massage the elder’s chest. “I’m sorry, Grandpa. I—”

Paul shook him off, his eyes blazing with disappointment. “And don’t get me started on that ridiculous matchmaking agency. It’s absurd! What happened to normal relationships? Real love?”

Bucky swallowed hard, his throat dry.

Paul’s voice cracked, the anger giving way to heartbreak. “You broke this old man’s heart, Bucky. I thought… I thought I could finally go in peace, knowing you had a wife. A good girl by your side. But now…”

He saw it with his own eyes—that Bucky and you were a perfect match. Turns out, it was all a lie. It broke him.

“Tell me,” Paul said, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation, “does she mean anything to you? Or was it just a contract?”

Bucky hesitated, the weight of the question pressing down on him. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

Paul’s eyes narrowed, his disappointment deepening. “You know what? She was right to leave you for a single dollar.”

The words hit Bucky like a slap. His fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening. Everyone seemed to blame him for your departure—Grace, the agency, and now his own grandfather. What did I do that was so wrong?

He finally snapped. “If she didn’t mean anything to me, would I have walked out of a $100 billion meeting to go ask where she is?”

It hurt even more because he had lost his best friend. A wife was just a word to him, but a best friend? Yes. Yes, you were. You meant a lot to him, and to his grandfather as well. And you just left without a proper goodbye, as if he didn’t deserve one. He needed answers.

He even skipped a meeting worth billions of dollars. For him to miss it means you are worth more than billions to him.

Paul’s eyes widened, his expression shifting from anger to realization.

“Then what are you doing here?” Paul barked, his voice regaining its edge. “Go find her!”

Bucky stood, stunned into silence.

“Don’t come back until you’ve found her!” Paul continued, pointing toward the door. “And forget about the company. It can survive without you. She’s the one you need to fix this with.”

Bucky nodded stiffly, his expression a mix of determination and frustration. Without another word, he turned and strode out of the study, leaving Paul alone by the fire.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

As Bucky stepped out of his grandfather’s house, the weight of the conversation still hanging over him, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration before answering.

"Sir," came the voice of his head of security.

Bucky sighed, exhaustion creeping into his bones. "Tell me at least some good news," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"We found her."

The words hit him like a jolt of electricity. His pulse quickened, and for the first time in what felt like ages, a flicker of hope lit in his chest.

Bucky straightened up, his posture shifting from defeat to determination. "Where is she?" His voice was sharper now, his body leaning forward, eager for any hint of where you might be.

This was the news he’d been waiting for, the answer he desperately needed.

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[lonesilverw0lf]

I hope whoever decided to read Id is enjoying it. I had a random thought for the class: how big is it? Like did only one classroom get Isekaied, or did a whole graduating class get it? Like the Class of 2018 or something? I’m assuming it was a singular class since even towns can have a sizable year for students. That can be a lot of characters to try to create. Not impossible, just a lot of work.

MC: rouge-ish, stealth, wild magic(?), mild immortality?, disguises, Heroes’ Shadow

Prez: leader, commander, fighter, strategist

Tomboy: fighter, pretend damsel in distress

Bully: barbarian, orc in laws

Prepper: ranger-ish, survivalist,

Mama: logistics, underworld connections, torture encouragement

Goth: Outerplane connections (warlock?), craftsmanship (of an undecided sort)

Clown: support, morale, bard, jack of all trades

Football jock: Paladin

Flower girl: potions, poisons, botany

Queen Bee: insect control(unwanted)

Influencer: cult creation(unintentional)

Skater: slacker,

Chess student: Pokémon summons, tactics

Art student: scouting magic

Teen Mom: lore keeper, record holder, divination, domestic support, fairy friend, mother

Baby: cuteness, defend at all costs, morale booster

Rat: size shifting, mascot, food vacuum

I think I got all that right at least. Lemme know if I missed something and I’ll edit the list. That’s 16 characters not counting Baby and Rat so far. Nor any Fantasy Land characters. Theatre and nerd kids were mentioned, and one otaku, but I haven’t seen anything else come up for them. I know I introduced Skater, but not quite sure what to do with him. I had a thought about him becoming a sort of messenger/runner to put his skater skills to work, but also not entirely sold on that.

Do we have a straight mage character decided? I know all the Party have a degree of magical ability, but did someone decide on who would dump all their points into sorcery? I can see Otkau mayhaps going that direction, going all Elder Scrolls/Elden Ring Sorcery would be right up an otakus power fantasy but then again what kind of otaku is Otaku? Does Goth get anything from her Patron other than cell phone service? I wouldn’t mind seeing her become a bit of a cross between Teen Titans Raven and Frieren. From my understanding she’s not a physical type so spells would work for her fine.

Thanks to this post I was granted a couple thoughts regarding a piece of technology that I have tragically overlooked which is a goldmine for comedy and usefulness: Goths Phone and her bargain. Whatever her deal was to get cell service, assuming that she accesses earth’s internet, this also implies that her phone has unlimited battery as well. So the Party calls home first thing they can so they can let everyone know that they’re alright. Then they take turns with it when they’re feeling homesick. They can also use it to get blueprints of various devices and designs, certain details of things like the best metals to prevent infection, search videos explaining certain subjects, use it to video and photograph their adventures, and so on.

I can’t decide what’s funnier: either a) she is now a walking cell tower that the Party uses. (A kinda short one at that, especially compared to how tall Mama is. Are we really sure they’re actually siblings let alone twins? I know that’s what they say but can you blame me? Are we sure their parents didn’t just snatch another baby out of her cradle?) So the Party has the advantage of using their phones to a limited degree, mostly for sending messages to each other since communication is vital in this world. Each person using her as a reference point whether they have service or not. The closer the better of course. Instead of having three bars they say they have ‘three Goths’. Awake she’s most ‘receptive’, asleep less so but you can still get a signal, unconscious/hypnotized/etc. has zero. Or maybe just the tiniest bit so the Party can track her down if necessary.

Or B) her phone is the only one that works and so the Party kinda ‘take turns’ using/stealing/borrowing it for various reasons. To call their families when feeling homesick, reference some history or scientific tidbit for their current situation, take pictures/videos of certain books/places/things/etc, how the football team is doing, check for updates on their favorite fanfiction, etc. They barter and trade for Phone Time creating a sorta sub culture surrounding the Phone. Goth is all dramatic when she doesn’t have her Phone.

I didn’t come up with situation A until I was halfway through writing this.

~

Goth, in the fetal position and murmuring, a dark haze surrounding her: Life is suffering. To deny suffering is to deny existence. And so we are inextricably linked to it.

But why? Her Phone has been borrowed so Influencer can use it to stream. Hence she has been bereft of her phone and now is bored.

Influencer: And with that we’re going to have to start wrapping up this Stream! Thank you for taking the time to teach us about this local board game, Mr. Farmer.

Farmer: Mah pleasure Missy! Anything to help out ta Heroes Party!

Chess: Less heroes and more normal teenagers right now. And thank you for showing me how to play this game! Now if I can just find someone else to play it with.

Farmer, looking at Goth: Ar ya sure that one is alright?

Influencer: Oh she’s fine, she’s just being dramatic. She does this every time.

Farmer: Ah, like a catto ya? One tha didn’t get tha cream?

Chess: Yep! We’re trying to find a pair of cat ears to make a little headpiece for her when she’s like this. Here’s your silver.

Farmer: Silver?! Milord I can’t-

Chess: No lord stuff, we’re just normal people right now. I know we agreed four copper for the board game, but the rest is for taking time out of your day and being so patient with us. Think of it as a thank you gift.

Influencer: Mr. Farmer, do you want to say anything to the people on the other side of this?

Farmer: I just talk to tha little box ere? And they can see me good ya?

Influencer: Yep! Just like we talked about earlier!

Farmer: Ah thanks ya folks fer listen’ to an old man go on about his favorite game. Er, is that good or?

Influencer: All the stuff on the side? Oh that’s the other people talking. They’re all saying thank you for being on this stream. A lot of them seem to be interested in making this game back home and trying it themselves.

Farmer: Ah! You’re all too kind!

Chess: Here, let me walk you back to the village.

Influencer: Be safe Chess! And so what did you all think? An interesting game for a small farming and logging village so far from the road ya? And all handmade too! Kinda makes me wonder how many games our own world used to have like this that have been lost over the generations….I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that HotdogMan. You know the rules, I really don’t want to ban anyone…. Yes we’ll try to bring the game back with us so Earth can play with it as well.

Influencer: Ohhh~ that is so nice of you! However this isn’t a normal stream….Yes I’d love donations just as much as the next gal but in Fantasy Land there is no way to access a Patron- Patron, Patrón, Petrol, Patren. Pttthhh! PATREON! Ugh, what are words? Yeah, we can’t access any of that money. And Fantasy Land doesn’t accept Visa or PayPal either.

Influencer: Well I’d love to stay and chat more but my Time is running out here so we’re going to have to wrap up! As always a great big thanks to Goth and her Patron…..um……Chat I haven’t even started attempting the name and you’re already making fun of me!!😭…..There are like no vowels in its name so of course it’s hard! Ugh, ok here goes. Thank you Ktchre-, no Cacgken- guh, Crushzu- argh…. I know how to pronounce Cthulhu Chat, its name is not Cthulhu. I wouldn’t be made fun of by y’all if its name was that simple….. No PolyPomPoms, it’s an Extraplanar Entity. Gender isn’t a thing with it. No its gender isn’t fluid, either. How do you get even fifty genders in the first place? That doesn’t- The point is it doesn’t have one!… No I don’t know how that works and quite frankly I’m not going to ask.

Influencer: As always: stay safe, be nice, be awesome, and hopefully we’ll be here again next week! Fantasy Land Adventures signing off! Bye~!

After packing up her setup Influencer walks over to Goth.

Goth: -even when the sky is overripe, it withholds its bounty. Thus here we are, bereft of its-

Influencer: 🙄Alright Goth, here’s your phone back.

Goth: Life has returned! The sweet succor of-

Influencer: 😑 And here I thought I was bad. Or that Bee was annoying when she couldn’t get her Java anymore.

Goth: You know, I was thinking…

Influencer: Dear god, please not this again.

Goth: There is a way to do this without all this torment and suffering.

Influencer: 😓Of course it is.

Goth: A path that would benefit both our desires.

Influencer: Don’t say it Goth, don’t you dare say it.

Goth: You could-

Influencer: I’m warning you!

Goth: -make a pact with my Patron.

Influencer: AAAARRRRGGGG!! We’ve been over this a gazillion times! No!

Goth: It’s excited to talk to you! It wants to help! I’m sure it can give you a wonderful deal! Probably better than what I got…

Influencer: It -wants- to make me its Chief Cult Leader! It -wants- me to convert everyone into its cult! Just like every one and thing else around here! I got enough problems fending off every blasted religion, cult, government, and organization out there, don’t you start harping on me too!

Goth: Cmon, what’s a half dozen cults?

Influencer: I’m still not over that little ‘celebration’ in that one town. I can only imagine how bad it could’ve been if Clown didn’t help me reword myself to make it just a drunken celebration instead of something worse. Remember I almost got that one Holy Order nearly come down on our heads for that? I am not starting up anything else if I can help it.

Goth: Don’t act like you’re special there, we all have nearly run afoul with many such groups. Remember when Prep killed that one holy animal thinking it was just a random Fantasy Land critter? Or when Football flirted with the wrong Lady in Waiting? Also you don’t seem to mind the Base.

Influencer: Because they tried to sacrifice me, so I had no choice! Thank goodness MC ungagged me there. Base is reasonable only because Mama and Prez got things under control! I can’t handle that kinda pressure.

Football: Here you two are. Where’s Chess?

Goth: He’s walking that farmer back to his village.

Football: Hm. Prez wants everyone in the Command Tent. We’re due for another Meeting.

Influencer: So soon? I thought we were going to have that Tuesday?

Football: That was the case, but since it’s Prez I’m sure there’s a good reason for it.

Goth: Alright then, let’s go. Hey Influencer, just think about-

Influencer: We are done talking about this!!

Football: Er, what did I miss?

Goth and Influencer: It’s nothing.

Football: Right. ‘It’S nOtHiNg!’ Geh, women.

The standard 'entire class gets isekai'd to a fantasy world and the outcast MC is basically discarded' anime setting, where the MC, now assumed dead, decides to instead help the class of Heroes in the shadows, making sure they live up to what the people need.

However, the entire class knows that he's alive and are hellbent on dragging that son of a bitch back into the spotlight and to give him the recognition he deserves.

(And maybe because he was basically the entire class's Little Guy™.)

[tqlepatia]

─ Headcanons young ambessa

Certified big spoon

Ambessa was always the big spoon, no negotiations. She loved wrapping herself around you, making you feel safe and snug. It wasn’t just a comfort thing; it was her way of saying, “I’ve got you, don’t worry about a thing.” If you ever tried to switch it up and be the big spoon? She’d just laugh and drag you right back into her arms like, “Nah, nice try, but this is my job.”

Cigarette Hater with her soul

Smoking? no. She hated the smell with a burning passion. If someone lit up near her, she’d literally wave the smoke away and hit them with a “Do you have to do that right now?” If you smoked, she’d pull some petty drama like refusing to kiss you until you brushed your teeth or popped a mint. “Kiss me when you don’t smell like an ashtray, babe.”

if mess w/you, is messing with her

She was ride or die for the people she cared about. If someone even looked at you funny or the wrong way, Ambessa was already cracking her knuckles, ready to throw hands. She wouldn’t always make a scene (unless it was deserved), but trust, she’d have a very direct convo with anyone who crossed the line. Messing with her loved ones = bad life choice.

Morning mushball

She acted all tough, but mornings were her soft hours. She’d stay in bed, groaning about “five more minutes” while pulling you into a bear hug. Honestly, it was the only time you’d catch her all cuddly and vulnerable without her usual walls up. Nights? Whole different story—she’d be all business and focus, but you could still sneak in and bug her for affection if you were bold.

Lowkey Sentimental

Ambessa had a secret stash of sentimental stuff she’d never admit to keeping. That random flower you gave her one time? Pressed in a book. A doodle you left on her notes? Saved. She wasn’t gonna talk about it, but if you ever found the stash, she’d play it off like, “What? It’s nothing. Don’t make it weird.”

Goofy, but only in private

Around other people, she was all stoic and intimidating, but when it was just you? Full clown behavior. She loved teasing you, throwing sarcastic one-liners, or doing dumb stuff like dramatically mimicking your expressions just to make you laugh. Catch her laughing at her own jokes? All bets are off.

Stubborn af

If Ambessa thought she was right about something, good luck changing her mind. She’d dig her heels in and argue for hours. The only way to win? Either outsmart her with some clever logic or just kiss her mid-rant. She’d roll her eyes and be like, “Fine, you win—for now.”

Thrived on chaos

She had this wild side where she’d do things just for the adrenaline rush. Climbing something dangerous? Breaking a rule just because she could? All in a day’s work. If you hesitated, she’d smirk and say, “What’s life without a little chaos, babe?” Then drag you into whatever nonsense she had planned.

Affection

Once Ambessa decided you were her person, that was it. She’d back you up no matter what and stand by you through thick and thin. But if you betrayed her? Game over. She wasn’t about giving second chances easily—she’d cut you off so fast your head would spin.

Loyal to the bone

Young Ambessa was basically a mix of “don’t mess with me” energy and “I’ll secretly spoil the people I love.” She’d act tough, but if you were lucky enough to get close, you’d see that big ol’ heart under all the sharp edges.

[bubybubsters]

Game day (chp. 4)

summary: in which reader is an avid studier and all she does is listen to music, study, eat, and sleep. what happens when she suddenly becomes attracted to a friend of a friend, a football player no less… not just any footballer, the quarterback that every girl fawns over

a/n: THIS CAUSED ME SO MUCH STRUGGLE I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT 🙏🙏🙏

previous part - series masterlist - next part

“Y/n we’re going to be late!”

“It’s 5:57 you said six!” you call back.

You hear the three sisters groan out in annoyance. You smirk, quickly scribbling your last sentences for your English essay, folding it up and tucking it into your bag. You throw on a dab of blush and grab your pre-prepared bag before heading out. 

“Y/n if we’re late you’re dead.” Nesta grits out, teeth clenched. 

You grin. “You’ll be fine, Nes.”

Elain smiles guiltily, “Did I mention we’re picking up Lucien?”

Both Feyre and Nesta groan as your grin grows. “Thank god! Someone sane!” Turning to Nesta you reach back to poke her shoulder, “Now who ya gonna kill, huh?”

She bares her teeth. “Still you!”

“Ugh whatever. You’re just salty you don’t get to have your pregame lip-tongue-dance with Cassian.”

Nesta growls, leaping at you, sitting in shotgun, from her back seat just as Elain pulls to a sudden stop. Her momentum sends her crashing head-first into Elain’s seat and her feet spread with one in Feyre’s stomach and the other splayed against the window.

You chuckle, quickly stepping out of the car. “I’ll get Lucien.”

Slamming the car door, you hurry up the stone path to the Vanserra house. As you ring the doorbell, you hear screaming and arguing from the direction of the car.

The door opens, Lucien steps out, and the door closes just as fast.

You raise a brow. “What? Can’t say hi to my favorite family nowadays?”

Lucien rolls his eyes. “Eris is back.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Y’know maybe-”

“Nope.”

You sigh. “Please Lucien. Just one dinner to get all the juicy details of his life out.”

“Nope. You never told me why you’re so interested in him anyway.”

“Call it curiosity.”

He offers his elbow, fake eye glinting for a millisecond. “Curiosity kills the cat, remember?”

You take his hand and the two of you make your way to the still-fighting sisters.

“Good thing I’m not a cat then, huh?”

“Well, it looks like they’re already closer to a cat than you.” Lucien motions to Elain, Nesta, and Feyre screaming and clawing at eachother.

You hum, opening the door. “I suppose.” 

The three sisters stop fighting immediately, Elain going brick red and gripping onto the wheel with too stiff posture.

You smile, climbing into the front seat and leaving Lucein to the back. He sends you a look of betrayal through the mirror as he climbs in next to Feyre.

Elain slams the gas and you all jolt forward.

Fifteen minutes later you’ve parked and are running for the stadium. The five of you find your reserved box seats (courtesy of Rhysand) and slump into them.

The game started ten minutes ago and the score is stil zero-zero. 

“Thank god.” Nesta sighs, eyes closing. 

“NESTA!!”

Everyone in your group groans as thousands of heads turn your way. Nesta smiles through a grimace and waves to Cassian. 

Her boyfriend is on the field, jumping up and down and waving his hands like a crazy man while the coach yells at him. You see Azriel look in your direction and you look down immediately.

“Oh?”

You glance at Lucien. “What?”

“You like him?”

“No!” He looks skeptical. “Maybe.” He smiles. “Yes fine he’s really cute and he doesn’t look like he’d bother me with stupid questions about girls.” You send Lucien a pointed look.

He blushes slightly. “You should ask him out.”

“Nope.”

“He probably likes you too.”

“Nope.”

“He’s looking this way.”

Your head shoots up, eyes instinctively finding him among the players. Your eyes meet. He waves. You stare. Lucien grabs your wrist and makes your hand wave back. You blush. You both look away.

A whistle blows and yelling starts anew. You glance at the field. Players are moving and Azriel is throwing. The ball flies into Rhysand’s outstretched hands and he takes off running. Noise fills the stadium, both boos and cheers. 

You smile, as Feyre jumps around and cheers her ass off. Grabbing a pencil and your English paper from your bag, you turn to Lucien. 

“Can you read through this?” You have to scream to be heard as the stadium absolutely erupts into cheers. 

“Touchdown!”

You glance up, clapping politely. 

Lucien grabs the paper with a nod. You can’t hear what he’s saying but his mouth is moving. You move closer. “It’s probably perfect you’re at the top of the class.”

“Make sure?”

He groans but nods, settling into his seat. 

Five minutes later he’s giving you two thumbs up and you’re taking your paper with a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you!”

Then you push him straight into Elain.

“You’re evil.” Feyre steals Lucien’s seat. Her voice sounds a little hoarse from yelling but her eyes are bright and her mouth curved up.

“He’ll be thanking me one day.” 

“Azriel definitely won’t.” She nods her head to the field and you see Azriel glaring daggers into the crowd.

“He is not looking at us.”

“Yes he is! Straight into Lucien’s back.”

“No way.”

Feyre groans and gives up just as the game starts up again. 

You sigh, eyeing the field, football wasn’t really your thing. All you know is touchdowns are good and interceptions are bad and fumbles are bad and the quarterback is Azriel. This is gonna be a long game.

An hour later, the game is finally done with a win for Velaris University. And thank the gods because that shit was boring. You walk down the field with your friends to meet the players. Feyre jumps into Rhys’s arms, both of them kissing and hugging with no end in sight. Nesta follows albeit with a little less intensity, and she and Cassian head off, likely to do some freaky ah stuff in the locker rooms.

You look around, just in time to spot Lucien and Elain split off and start a nice walk across the field while talking and laughing.

“Hey, Y/n?” A deep voice you now recognize calls out.

“Azriel.”

“Y/n.”

“Congrats on the win!” Yes, you finally said something right.

“Thanks.” He doesn’t even grace you with a smile.

Silence falls, crickets chirp.

You smile awkwardly, “Well you look… busy.” You wave to the plethora of girls squealing a distance away holding pink hearts and little gifts all with his name printed on. “I guess I’ll leave you to it?”

He blanches, complexion going white.. “Oh please no.”

Huh?

“What?”

“They’re gonna tear me apart trying to get me to date one of them, god please stay. Rhys and Cass have abandoned me now that they have girls of their own, not that that’s bad of course I’m glad they’re happy bu-”

“Azriel,” you cut him off. “I’ll stay.”

He blinks, and, slowly, the corners of his mouth turn up just the slightest. “Thank you.”

You merely link your arms and smile as you lead the two of you across the field and to the bleachers.

“Don’t worry bout it, kay?”

a/n: ask to be added!

taglist (11/45): @casiiopea2 @andrewgarfield2022 @the-onlyy-angie @thelov3lybookworm @icey--stars @blonde-bansheee @portkeytomyworld @kingshitonly @fuckingsimp4azrielk @ladyphoenixayhp @celestialgilb

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 27 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇sighhh

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Telemachus leaned against the doorway of Y/N’s room, his arms crossed as he watched her adjust her hair in front of the mirror. There was a tension in his stance, his jaw tight as he tried to muster the right words. Finally, he let out a sigh.

“Y/N,” he started cautiously, his voice firm but not unkind. “I’ve been thinking… I don’t think you should visit Antinous in the dungeon anymore.”

Pandora froze, her fingers pausing mid-braid. She turned slowly to face him, her expression immediately shifting to one of disbelief. “What?”

“It’s not safe,” he explained, stepping further into the room. “The guards aren’t fond of him, and he’s not exactly the most stable person to be around. I just don’t want you putting yourself in danger.”

She frowned, crossing her arms. “Antinous is my brother, Telemachus. He may be a lot of things, but he’s not dangerous to me.”

Telemachus’s eye twitched slightly, but he kept his voice steady. “He’s unpredictable, Y/N. You don’t know what he might do. And the guards—if they think you’re sympathizing with him too much, they might make it hard for you to even be around the palace.”

Her jaw tightened, and she stepped closer to him. “I don’t care what the guards think. And I know my brother better than you ever could. I’m not going to abandon him, especially now.”

Telemachus pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated but trying to keep his temper in check. “This isn’t about abandoning him, Y/N. It’s about keeping you safe. Do you think I want to lose you because you’re too stubborn to see reason?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Reason? You think I’m being unreasonable because I care about my brother?”

He sighed deeply, his hand dropping back to his side. “You’re not being unreasonable, but you’re being reckless. Antinous made his choices, and now he’s paying for them. You don’t need to get caught up in the consequences of his actions.”

“I’m not abandoning him, Telemachus,” she said firmly, her voice rising slightly. “I already lost my family once when we were once. I’m not losing him again. I don’t care what you say—I’m going to keep visiting him, whether you like it or not.”

Telemachus stared at her, a mixture of frustration and concern etched across his face. He opened his mouth to argue but then closed it again, running a hand through his hair instead. “Y/N,” he tried one last time, his tone softer but still pleading, “please. Just think about it. For me.”

Her expression softened for a brief moment, but then she shook her head resolutely. “I’ve thought about it, and my answer’s the same. I’m not going to stop visiting him.”

Telemachus let out a frustrated groan, muttering under his breath. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Why do you have to be so controlling?” she shot back, her tone sharp.

They stood in tense silence for a moment before Telemachus finally threw up his hands. “Fine! Do whatever you want. But don’t come running to me when something goes wrong.”

Her glare softened slightly as he turned to leave, but she held her ground. “I’ll be fine, Telemachus. I know what I’m doing.”

He paused in the doorway, glancing back at her with a mixture of exasperation and worry. “I hope you’re right,” he muttered, before walking out and shutting the door behind him. As the door clicked shut, she let out a shaky breath, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. No matter what Telemachus thought, she wasn’t going to give up on her brother. Not now, not ever.

——

It was late, the moonlight spilling into Telemachus’s room through the open window, casting soft silver light on the walls. Y/N slipped in quietly, her bare feet making no sound against the cold stone floor. She found him sitting on the edge of his bed, his head buried in his hands, the tension in his shoulders clear even in the dim light. “Telemachus,” she called softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He didn’t respond at first, but when she stepped closer, he glanced up, his blue eyes weary and shadowed with frustration. “If you’re here to argue again, y/n, I don’t have the energy for it.”

She frowned but didn’t respond to his sharp tone. Instead, she sat down beside him, close enough that their knees brushed. “I’m not here to argue,” she said gently, resting a hand on his arm. “I’m here because I don’t want us to go to sleep angry with each other.”

Telemachus let out a heavy sigh, leaning back slightly and running a hand through his hair. “You don’t listen to me,” he said, his voice low. “And it drives me insane because all I’m trying to do is protect you.”

“I know,” she said softly, her hand slipping down to take his. “And I’m sorry if it feels like I’m ignoring you. I’m not. I just… I can’t abandon my brother. It’s not who I am.”

Telemachus squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he stared down at their entwined fingers. “It’s just so hard, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have so much on my shoulders already—being king, taking care of this kingdom, trying to live up to my father’s name. And then there’s you, constantly throwing yourself into danger for someone I can’t stand. It makes me feel like I’m failing you.”

Her heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re not failing me,” she murmured, her voice steady and soothing. “You’re doing everything you can to protect me, to protect Ithaca. That’s what makes you such a good man, Telemachus. And one day, you’re going to be a great king.”

Telemachus turned his head slightly, his cheek brushing against her hair as he closed his eyes. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” she said firmly, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. “You care so much about everyone—your people, your family, this kingdom. That’s what a great king does. You’re going to make Ithaca proud.”

His lips curved into a small, weary smile, and he reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You always know what to say to make me feel better,” he said softly.

“That’s because I know you,” she replied with a gentle smile of her own. Telemachus leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling her back into his arms. They stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the quiet of the night, the weight of their earlier argument melting away.

“Thank you,” he murmured against her hair.

“Always,” she replied, her voice barely audible as the two of them finally found peace in each other’s embrace.

——

The morning light barely crept into the dim dungeon as Y/N descended the cold, winding stairs, a tray in her hands. The warmth of the bread and fruit on the tray contrasted sharply with the icy stone walls around her. The guards gave her a wary glance but stepped aside, knowing better than to argue with Telemachus’s betrothed.

When she reached her brother’s cell, the faint clink of chains echoed in the silence. Antinous was sitting against the far wall, his head tilted back, his eyes half closed in boredom. His once-pristine clothes were wrinkled and dirtied from his time in confinement, but his arrogant demeanor remained intact. “Are you going to just stand there, or did you bring me something edible this time?” he called out, not even bothering to look at her.

She frowned but kept her composure. “Good morning to you too, brother,” she said, her voice cool but not unkind. She crouched by the bars, sliding the tray through the small opening. “I brought you breakfast. Proper food, not the scraps they’ve been giving you.” Antinous’s eyes flicked open, and for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossed his face. He moved toward the tray, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he didn’t want to show how much he appreciated the gesture.

“Don’t think this makes up for anything,” he muttered, picking up a piece of bread and inspecting it.

She sighed, sitting cross legged on the cold stone floor outside the cell. “I’m not trying to make up for anything, Antinous. I just… I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

He scoffed, taking a bite of the bread. “Do I look okay to you, Y/N? Locked up like an animal while that spoiled brat of yours gets to play king? I’m a prisoner in my own homeland.”

She flinched but didn’t back down. “You brought this on yourself, brother. You plotted against Telemachus, against Penelope. You knew the risks.”

Antinous leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he glared at her. “And you? What about you? Siding with the enemy? You’ve chosen them over your own blood.”

Her chest tightened, but she held his gaze. “I didn’t choose anyone over you, Antinous. I love you. But I can’t support what you’ve done. You tried to kill him. You tried to take this kingdom by force.”

He leaned back again, smirking bitterly. “And yet here you are, bringing me breakfast like I’m some poor, misunderstood soul. Why, Y/N? Why even bother?”

She looked down at her hands, her fingers nervously twisting together. “Because you’re my brother,” she said softly. “No matter what you’ve done, I can’t just stop caring about you. I know you probably don’t feel the same, but I needed to see you. To make sure you’re still… you.”

For a moment, there was silence between them, the only sound being the faint dripping of water somewhere in the dungeon. Antinous’s expression softened just slightly as he watched her, but the walls he’d built around himself remained firmly in place. “You’re too soft,” he muttered, picking up a piece of fruit. “That’s going to get you hurt one day.”

She managed a small smile. “Maybe. But it’s who I am.”

Antinous didn’t respond, focusing instead on the food she’d brought. She stayed for a little while longer, sitting quietly as he ate. When she finally rose to leave, he spoke up, his tone uncharacteristically subdued.

“Thanks for the breakfast,” he said, not looking at her.

She paused, her hand resting on the cold bars. “You’re welcome, Antinous,” she said softly before turning and making her way back up the stairs, her heart heavy but her resolve firm.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee

@barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world

@simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches

@sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl @dazedemery @tsmaruchan

@holywizardprincess @galaxygurlll @xo-cuteplosion-xo

[andromeda-pleiades]

Just Trust Me

WORD COUNT: 3,582

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

You wake up feeling like a storm is brewing in your chest, the events of the previous night replaying in your mind. The texts. Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick. The third name—Soap. And Simon’s calm, composed demeanor when he returned, as if he didn’t know you’d pieced together everything

But he must know. There’s no way he doesn’t.

You rise from the bed, every movement deliberate, every step calculated to seem natural. When you enter the kitchen, Simon is at the stove, wearing an old T-shirt and sweatpants, his movements relaxed as he scrambles eggs in a pan.

“Morning,” he says, glancing over his shoulder with a small smile. “Coffee’s fresh.”

You murmur a quiet thanks, heading for the coffee pot. Your hands shake as you pour yourself a cup, but you keep your back to him, hiding your face under the pretense of blowing on the steaming liquid.

The atmosphere feels suffocating, his casual act only adding to the tension knotted in your chest. You sit at the table, sipping your coffee as he brings over two plates of eggs and toast.

“You sleep okay?” Simon asks, his gaze flicking to you over the rim of his cup.

You nod. “Yeah, fine.”

He nods, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary. You fight the urge to squirm under his scrutiny, keeping your expression as neutral as possible.

“Good,” he says, setting his mug down. “I was thinking we could head out today and get you a replacement phone.”

He’s still acting so normal, as if nothing’s changed, as if you didn’t piece together his web of control last night.

You want him to explode, to lash out, to do something. 

“That sounds good,” you say, keeping your tone even.

He smiles, satisfied, and takes a sip of his coffee.

The silence stretches between you, and you can feel his eyes on you, studying you, reading every microexpression. But every second feels like a test.

You glance down at your plate, the eggs blurring in front of you. Last night’s discovery replays in your mind, each detail sharp and vivid. The texts. The names. She’s not like that.

The thought of Kyle—Gaz—makes your skin crawl. You’ve known him since you were kids, trusted him, shared secrets with him. And now, he’s part of this… whatever this is.

How much of your life has been calculated? How long have they been watching you?

You swallow hard, pushing the questions aside. Right now, all that matters is getting through this breakfast without giving anything away.

In the car, the silence feels suffocating. You stare out the window, your mind racing. The texts, the app, everything about Simon feels magnified now, each detail sharpening into focus.

When you reach the store, Simon ushers you inside, his hand on the small of your back. He’s so attentive, so... normal.

Too normal.

He navigates the purchase seamlessly, speaking to the clerk as though he’s buying something for himself. You realize with a sinking feeling that he’s done this before. Not this exact situation, maybe, but the control, the ownership—it’s ingrained in him.

When the clerk asks for your ID to set up the account, Simon steps in smoothly. “I’ll take care of it,” he says, handing over his own ID.

You blink, startled. “But—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, his tone soothing but firm.

You bite your tongue, watching as the clerk processes everything under Simon’s name. It hits you like a punch to the chest: the house, the car, even your groceries. He pays for everything. Nothing is in your name.

Every small piece of you is ingrained with “Simon’s”

On the drive home, Simon surprises you by pulling a small box from the center console and handing it to you.

“What’s this?” you ask, your fingers trembling as you take it.

“Your wallet,” he says simply.

You hesitate before opening it. Inside is a sleek leather wallet, completely new—and filled. There’s cash tucked neatly in one pocket, and a set of shiny new credit cards bearing your name.

Your heart skips a beat.

“I figured you’d need replacements,” Simon says, his tone as casual as if he’d bought you flowers. “I took care of it yesterday.”

You stare at the cards, the weight of his control pressing down on you. He didn’t even ask. He just did it.

“Thank you,” you say, the words barely audible.

Simon glances at you briefly, a small smile playing at his lips. “Anything for you.”

You grip the wallet tightly, your knuckles white. The fear and gratitude swirl together in your chest, making you feel dizzy.

That night, Simon is quiet. Too quiet. He watches you closely, his dark eyes tracking your every move as you sit on the couch, pretending to scroll through your new phone.

You feel like a bug under a magnifying glass.

“Something on your mind?” he asks suddenly, breaking the silence.

You shake your head quickly. “No. Why?”

Simon leans back, studying you with a faint smile. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m just tired,” you reply, forcing a yawn.

He nods, his gaze never leaving you. “Go to bed early, then. I’ll finish up here.”

You hesitate but eventually rise, retreating to the bedroom.

Once inside, you shut the door softly and cross to the closet. Your heart pounds as you crouch down and pull out the shoebox where you hid the phone.

But when you open it, the phone is gone.

Your breath catches, and you freeze, staring at the empty box.

“Looking for something?”

The voice behind you makes you jump. You spin around to see Simon standing in the doorway, his expression calm but his eyes sharp.

He steps into the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

“I told you,” he says, his voice low, almost soothing. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

You back up instinctively, hitting the edge of the bed.

Simon stops a few feet away, his gaze steady. “I know you know about the app. About the phone. About everything.”

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out.

Simon tilts his head, his expression softening. “I don’t blame you for being curious. But you should’ve come to me. You know I would’ve explained everything.”

You force yourself to stay calm, to nod as if you believe him.

“Good,” he says, smiling faintly. “Because we don’t have to let this change anything. I’m still here for you. Always.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.

The morning light filters through the windows, painting soft patterns on the floor. Simon is in the kitchen, humming quietly as he cooks breakfast. The smell of bacon and eggs fills the air, but it turns your stomach.

You stand in the doorway, watching him. Every movement is smooth, practiced, as though nothing has changed. As if he hasn’t orchestrated your life down to the smallest detail.

He looks up and smiles when he notices you. “Morning, love. Hungry?”

You grit your teeth, a sharp flash of anger coursing through you. How can he act so calm, so normal? How can he pretend nothing’s happened?

“No,” you say shortly, stepping into the kitchen.

Simon’s brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t press. “Coffee, then?”

You shake your head, crossing your arms. “How can you just act like everything’s fine?”

He blinks, tilting his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, Simon.” The words come out sharper than you intended, but you don’t care. “The app. The texts. The fact that everything—everything—is in your name. How long were you going to keep pretending you didn’t know I’d figure it out?”

Simon sets the spatula down, his calm demeanor unshaken. He wipes his hands on a towel, turning to face you fully.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says evenly.

“Oh, don’t you?” You laugh bitterly, the sound harsh in the quiet kitchen. “The house, the car, the phone, even the goddamn groceries. Nothing is mine. You’ve made sure of that, haven’t you? And then there’s the app—the one you used to track me. What, Simon? You didn’t trust me enough to let me live my own life?”

Simon doesn’t flinch. His gaze remains steady, his expression unreadable.

“I needed to make sure you were safe,” he says, his tone calm, measured.

“Safe?” You throw your hands up, your voice rising. “You call this safe? You’re controlling every part of my life, Simon! That’s not safety—that’s ownership!”

Simon takes a step toward you, his movements slow and deliberate. “You’re upset,” he says softly.

“Damn right I’m upset!” Your voice cracks, but you keep going. “You don’t get to make these decisions for me. You don’t get to control me like this!”

For a moment, silence hangs heavy between you. Simon’s calm is unnerving, like the eye of a storm. Then his expression shifts, just slightly—enough to send a chill down your spine.

“Are you finished?” he asks, his voice low but laced with authority.

You falter, your breath hitching. “I—”

Simon steps closer, closing the gap between you. He reaches out, his hands gentle but firm as they cradle your face. His touch is warm, but it feels like a cage.

“You don’t understand,” he says, his voice soft but unyielding. “You will, eventually. But right now, you’re just upset. You’re not thinking clearly.”

Your heart pounds as his gaze locks onto yours, intense and unrelenting. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is tender, almost comforting, but it leaves you feeling hollow.

When he pulls back, his hands remain on your face, holding you in place. “I do this because I love you,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. “Because I can’t lose you.”

You shake your head, trying to pull away, but his grip tightens just enough to keep you still.

“You’ll see,” he continues, his tone soothing, as though he’s explaining something to a child. “One day, you’ll understand why this is necessary. Why it’s the only way.”

Tears prick at your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “Simon—”

“Shh.” He presses another kiss to your forehead before finally releasing you. “Go sit down. I’ll finish breakfast.”

The day drags on, heavy and tense. You don’t speak much, barely meeting Simon’s gaze as you move around the house. Your silence feels like a rebellion, but every glance from him threatens to unravel it.

By the time evening rolls around, you’re exhausted—emotionally, mentally, physically. You sit curled up on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, barely registering what’s on the screen.

Simon joins you, his presence a heavy weight beside you. He sits close, his arm draping casually over the back of the couch, his body turned toward you.

“You’ve been distant all day,” he says softly, his voice warm with concern.

You don’t answer, keeping your eyes fixed on the phone.

Simon shifts closer, his hand brushing against your shoulder. “Hey,” he murmurs, his tone gentle, almost pleading. “What’s wrong?”

Your throat tightens. “You know what’s wrong.”

He exhales deeply, his hand sliding to your knee. “I hate seeing you like this,” he says, his voice laced with an ache that sounds too real to be false. “It hurts, you know? Seeing you upset. Knowing I’m the reason.”

You glance at him, and his expression is a perfect picture of remorse.

“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you,” he continues, his thumb brushing gentle circles against your knee. “I need you to know that. Everything I’ve done—it’s because I want to keep you safe. Because I care.”

Your chest tightens as guilt creeps in, unbidden.

He leans in, his forehead brushing against yours. “I’m not perfect,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. “But I’m trying. For you. Because I need you in my life. You’re my everything.”

The words wash over you, softening the edges of your anger. And that’s when it hits you—this isn’t the first time. Every time you’ve been mad, every time you’ve tried to push back, Simon’s done this. Made you feel like you’re the one who’s wrong. Made you feel bad for being upset. And every time, it ends the same way.

His lips find yours, and you don’t resist. His hands are on you, gentle yet insistent, guiding you, pulling you into him.

Somewhere deep down, you know this isn’t right. But his touch is so familiar, his words so soothing, that you let yourself sink into it.

Because isn’t this love?

The kisses quickly turned passionate he helped guide you to sit on his lap, his other hand trailing down to your sleep shorts. When his hand reached in and found your sex you let out a small gasp into his mouth.

You moan when not one, but two fingers dipped inside, then drove deep to the knuckle.

The thumb brushing your clit, his fingers curling in a loose fist while two of them curled inside you. You lift off of his lap to rid yourself of your sleep shorts while he slid his pants down, releasing his quickly hardening member.

When you reached to guide him inside you, he was silent eyes boring into yours

You were slippery as hell, but he was patient, mostly watching how you went through trial and error to get him in.

When the thick of him finally pushed in, slow and steady like a reverie. He let out a small groan.

You had barely even started when you saw how his throat worked, then felt him tighten the grip on your waist.

As you gave a slow roll of your hips you felt the stark difference between your bodies—a man shaped by violence, forged into a weapon. His frame was all corded muscle and skin marked by a history too brutal to recount. Scars old and new mapped his body, uneven patches of tone tracing burn marks, jagged scratches, and wounds that had never healed quite right. It wasn’t just his skin; it was his approach. He treated his body the same way he treated everything in his life: as a tool.

Even as pleasure built slowly, a deep sadness pooled in your chest. Beneath the man you loved, you were painfully aware of the chasm between you. He would never fully trust you, never see you as an equal. Your feelings—your needs—were incidental, an afterthought.

Your throat tightened, and a stinging heat rose behind your eyes. You couldn't do this anymore. You wouldn’t.

“Why can’t you just trust me, Simon? What have I done to deserve this... to make you distrust me so… so much?” Your voice cracked under the weight of your words, each syllable trembling with raw emotion. “I’m fighting a losing battle.”

Tears spilled freely now, streaming down your face as your chest hitched with broken, uneven breaths. Your nose was stuffed, forcing you to gasp for air through your mouth, your words dissolving into shuddering sighs.

All the while, his hands remained steady on your hips, grounding you as if to hold you together while everything inside you felt like it was unraveling.

“Why can’t you just trust me?” you whispered again, the plea barely audible but carrying the full force of your heartbreak.

"Gotta say it gets me fuckin' hard when you shed tears for me,” he said, amused, while you were crumbling under the weight of your relationship.

"You're so stupid Simon," you murmured, your voice thick with tears, struggling to breathe through your mouth because your nose was too clogged.

"Isn't that what you like about me?" he replied, his tone calm, almost detached.

When you didn’t respond, your quiet sobs the only sound filling the space, he gently turned you on your side. His hand moved to your back, beginning a slow, deliberate rhythm. He caressed you from the nape of your neck to the curve of your waist, his touch unhurried and deliberate, as if memorizing you. It was the gentlest touch you had felt in years.

"C'mon... Tell me you love me."

His hand cupped your ass, sliding down your thigh, beckoned it to lift to gain access to you.

"Alright, have it your way. But you never leave… That's how I know you love me."

To him, it was quite natural that you would get wet for him no matter how angry you were, mostly an endearment, as he climbed on top of you like a Commander taking what he owned after a hard day on the battlefield.

The bulged tip found your entrance with familiarity. He was such a tease when he wanted to be, coating himself with your slick before going straight in.

"Fucking and Fighting, If that ain't love, don't know what is."

Words escaped you again as he stretched you wide, and you could feel his hunger. He set a pace that was deep and slow, so filling that it made you grab the sheet in a tight fist.

"You’re so crazy Simon," you sighed while your back arched to meet him in perfect sync, the rhythm you had established long ago was the most divine for both of you. His hand found yours, the one grabbing the sheet, and you opened for him, interlacing your fingers with his, and squeezed. The sadness turned into a boulder of exhaustion covered with a blanket of sexual pleasure 

"That's it sweetheart… what else? Tell me how much you love me.”

The steam from the shower still clings to your skin as you step into the bedroom, towel wrapped tightly around you. You’re startled to hear unfamiliar voices drifting up from downstairs. Simon’s deep, steady cadence is joined by another man’s voice, lighter and slightly accented.

You freeze, your heart sinking. Simon didn’t mention anyone coming over. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, you cautiously head down the stairs, each step careful and deliberate. As you near the bottom, you spot Simon standing in the living room, laughing at something the other man said. The man turns, and your stomach drops.

It’s him. The man from the sandwich shop.

“Hey, there you are!” Simon greets you warmly, motioning for you to come over. “This is John MacTavish, but everyone calls him Soap.”

Soap. The third name from the messages.

You force a smile, nodding as you shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Soap says, his grin easy and disarming. His eyes linger on you a moment too long, as if he knows more about you than he’s letting on. He leans back slightly, his posture relaxed but his words deliberate. “Heard a lot about you.”

Your stomach knots. From Simon or Kyle? Or both? You force a smile, though your mind races, connecting the dots. Soap. Another of Simon’s military friends. Another piece of this twisted puzzle.

“I’m just gonna grab some water,” you mumble, excusing yourself to the kitchen. Your hands tremble as you fill a glass, the cool liquid doing little to calm the storm inside you.

From the corner of your eye, you see Simon watching you, his gaze sharp despite the casual smile he’s wearing. You murmur something about needing to check on something upstairs and retreat to the bedroom, closing the door behind you.

Once alone, the panic hits. Your breaths come shallow and fast as you press your back against the door, sliding down to the floor. You hug your knees to your chest, biting down on your lip to keep from making a sound. They’re both downstairs. They can’t know you’re falling apart. Every sound from downstairs feels magnified, each laugh or clink of a glass driving home how trapped you are.

Soap was at the sandwich shop. Was it coincidence, or was he watching you then too? How many of Simon’s friends are involved in this? How long have they been tracking your every move?

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, jolting you out of your spiraling thoughts. You reach for it, unlocking the screen to find a notification from the calendar app.

Reminder: Deployment - 10 Days

Your stomach churns. You don’t remember setting this. How would you? The calendar is filled with entries you didn’t create—dates and reminders meticulously planned. Your blood runs cold. He linked your calendars. Of course, he did.

The date is set. Ten days. A deadline. You stare at the screen, the number seared into your mind.

You set the phone down, your hands trembling. The wheels in your mind begin to turn. Ten days. You have ten days to figure out how to leave. Ten days to escape this house, this man, this life. The thought feels impossible, suffocating, but it’s the only hope you have.

Your mind flickers back to the texts you read, to Simon’s possessive words, to the way he controls every aspect of your life. And yet, despite the fear clawing at your chest, a spark of determination ignites. You’ve lived under his control for too long.

Ten days. It’s not much, but it’s enough. It has to be.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand. The panic subsides, replaced by a grim resolve. You’ll play along, act the part, keep up the facade. But inside, you’ll be planning, calculating, preparing for the moment when you can finally break free.

Simon’s voice calls up to you from downstairs, light and casual, as if nothing is amiss. You take another breath, steadying yourself, and head back down.

[musings-of-a-rose]

A vampire Benny and werewolf Benny! Can you make more or more stories spiraled off what you have? Those left me thirsty for more. Especially, werewolf Benny! 🔥🔥🔥❤️❤️❤️

Hunter's Moon

Pairing: Werewolf Benny x f!reader (established in Closer, linked in notes)

Word Count: 2100+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Anon, I had some vampire Benny ideas too but since you loved werewolf Benny in Closer, I decided to do a little one shot of those 2!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Masterlist

Fic this one is set in: Closer

“You seem restless tonight baby, are you ok?” I place my hand on his thigh as it continues to bounce. 

“Hhmm? Oh. Yeah. I’m fine.”

I shift my head up from where I had been laying against his chest to look up at him. “You know I know when you’re lying, right?”

“That’s not a bond thing.”

“No, that’s an I know you thing. What’s up?”

He sighs and looks down at me, kissing my forehead. “Just a hunter’s moon tomorrow night. Has me all jittery.”

“What’s a hunter’s moon mean to wolves?”

He’s quiet for a few moments. “It’s uh…well we sort of change and um…look for a…mate.”

Ah. “Oh. Like on a hunt?”

He nods. “Yeah I guess. But I already have you. It’s just…hard not to feel the pull.”

I sit up and shift to face him on the couch. “What pull? What’s it feel like?”

Benny takes a deep breath, his eyes unfocused as he thinks. “You know how I always feel more compelled to shift on a full moon?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Well…it’s like that but a lot more intense. The desire to…do you really want to hear all this?”

I smile at him and take his hand, squeezing it. “It’s you. And I want to know all of you.”

“Fair enough.” He clears his throat. “Like I said it’s like a regular full moon but more intense. The desire to…chase and find a mate to…”

“Make pups with?”

Benny can’t help but chuckle. “Exactly, yeah. It doesn’t always end in pups though. Often it’s just about a bond. Finding a mate. Even if it’s for that one night. But I have you. I’ll be fine. Just gotta shake it off.”

Shake it off. When has that ever worked for werewolf things?

“Can I help?”

Benny shakes his head. “I don’t think so. But thanks, sweetheart.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips and I don’t know if it’s our bond amplifying it, but I can feel him practically vibrating off the couch. 

“I’ll be home for dinner tomorrow. Gotta stop by Bill’s to make sure that tractor of his is still working. And then I’ll just…lock myself in the basement or something.”

“You sure you don’t want to join your pack?”

Benny shakes his head. “Nah. I want to be with you.” He pushes my head gently back towards his chest as we resume watching whatever is on the tv, my brain rapidly working on a plan to help him.

—----

My heart pounds in my chest as I run through the woods, grateful for the many acres that came with my homestead when I took the vet position. I had stowed the atv a bit back, opting to go on foot the rest of the way. Any moment now, Benny should be getting home and finding my note I’ve left him on the table.

Come and get me.

I know he’ll find me and probably fairly quickly, considering our bond and his heightened senses. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun. I press my back to a tree trunk, my chest rising and falling rapidly while I try to catch my breath. In the distance, I hear a howl, making my bond marks feel warm. 

He’s coming. 

I give myself a few more breaths before I shove off the tree, heading towards the top of this hill that’s slowly trying to kill me. This will be nothing for Benny, however, his large, padded paws will scale this like it’s nothing. Still, I manage to struggle to the top, my hands on my knees as I look around. The moon is bright and full, casting a faint glow around the small clearing ahead. I head through the trees and just make it into the clearing when I hear him, large and heavy paws thudding the ground up the side of the hill. Shit, that’s a lot faster than I anticipated. But then…silence. As I stand in the clearing, looking towards where I came from, I see nothing. I know he’s around, I can feel it. I can feel the tether between us. The wind stills, the night animals growing silent, making my beating heart sound extra loud. If I wasn’t bonded and completely in love with Benny, I would be terrified out of my mind right now. 

A flash of movement from the corner of my eye and I’m running in the opposite direction, pushing my way past the trees on the other side of the clearing, further into the woods. I can hear him behind me, shoving past trees, panting hard, a howl emanating from him. He’s making all of this sound so I hear him on purpose. I know because I’ve seen him move nearly silent. I see another clearing up ahead and I push myself a little harder, a stitch in my side nearly taking me out. But then I’m through the trees, running towards the other side. A sudden, soft nip at my ankle sends me flying, my hands slamming into the ground just inside the clearing. I turn as quick as I can, still on my ass, hands behind me as I crab walk backwards, my eyes scanning the trees.

When I’m a quarter of the way into the clearing, I see him. Benny’s wolf form is large and formidable, nearly 9ft tall when he’s not hunching over, the moonlight shining brightly against his golden fur. He slowly slinks into the clearing, his eyes deadset on me. His massive form somehow squeezes past the last tree when the air around him starts to shimmer and move, like too many things happening at once. Benny, in his gloriously naked human form, doesn’t miss a step, his eyes dark with lust as he stalks towards me. I’m momentarily stunned by how gorgeous he is. Then I remember I’m supposed to be running from him. I scramble up and turn, running as fast as I can for the trees. I only make it halfway across the clearing when his fingers tangle in my hair, yanking me back against him, his other hand snaking around my front as he exposes my neck to him.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” His voice is low, his breath fanning down across my exposed neck. 

I try to struggle against him, halfheartedly because fuck I am so turned on. “Trying to get away from y-you,” I’m still trying to catch my breath, but it’s difficult to focus with him pressed against my back, hard and wanting. 

“Well now, we can’t have that sweetheart.” Benny grips my dress and in one swift yank, rips it in half from my body, my bra quickly following. I try to move but his grip in my hair tightens and I go nowhere. His hand slides in the front of my panties, a low growl coming from his throat when he feels how wet I am. My panties are quickly tossed aside, joining my dress somewhere in the night. 

“Run,” he whispers in my ear, releasing his hold on me. I do as he says, running as fast as I can towards the trees again. But then I feel him behind me and I trip, putting my arms out to stop myself from slamming into the ground. But I don’t hit the ground, Benny’s arm winding around me to soften my blow. The second my knees hit the ground he’s on me, pressing his body over mine. He leans over me, engulfing me with his entire presence, nipping at my ear. 

“Mine,” he growls, sitting back up, digging his nails into my hips as he pushes himself inside me, pulling my hips back at the same time. I cry out, my fingers gripping at the grass and dirt as he fucks me from behind, fast and hard, my bond markings feeling like they’re on fire, but the kind of fire that goes straight between my legs. His grunts and skin on my skin are the only sounds echoing across the clearing.

He pushes me flat into the dirt, my hips angled just enough for him to continue fucking into me. His hands trace down my body, gripping my wrists and putting them above my head. But then he laces his fingers with mine, checking in with me and I squeeze his hand back, letting him know I’m ok. 

“Fuck!” He grunts in my ear, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he cums, warmth filling me up as his hips sputter. He drops his forehead to my shoulder, breathing heavily for several moments. He presses a soft kiss to my shoulder before sliding out of me, pulling away from me and allowing me to breathe. 

I just stay in that position, breathing heavy. But then he touches me, a long finger sliding up me until it expertly locates my clit, gently massaging it. I moan into the ground as the fire quickly builds. When he bites my asscheek I come, gasping and panting as he works me through it. I come down, breathing heavy and manage to sit up, turning to look at him and notice him getting hard again. He looks at me looking at him and the air around him starts to shift again, his wolf form seemingly popping out of nowhere. He takes a massive step towards me, using his nose to push me on my back. He shifts my legs open with his nose, baring me to him and the night. He lowers his head and licks me gently, and it’s only after the third pass of his tongue that I remember it has healing powers. A few licks later and he’s done, the soreness I felt a moment before completely gone. The air changes and there he stands again, in all his naked beauty. He offers me a hand and pulls me up, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips before pulling back, his eyes dark and lustful again. 

“Run.”

—----

I don’t remember how many times we fucked that night, or how we got back to my house, only that I slept until late afternoon the next day. Benny, with his superhuman hearing, comes in the room with a tray of food, a tentative smile on his face. We hadn’t really exchanged words last night, letting both of our primal sides come out instead. 

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” He stands next to the bed awkwardly, like he’s unsure of himself. 

I gesture to set the tray down on the nightstand and he does. I beckon him to me and his eyes light up, immediately sliding into the blankets. He lays his head on my bare chest, his hand coming up to idly play with my nipple. Which does nothing to quell the heat between my thighs. 

“I’m great, Benny. Really. Did…how are you?”

He turns his head to look up at me, his eyes bright blue and wide. “I didn’t hurt you did I? I tried not to. I healed you after. But that moon just does things, and fuck you’re so hot, and I just couldn’t stop. It was like…”

“Like a pull you’ve never felt?” I finish for him.

He nods. “Yeah. Like I couldn’t not be inside you.”

“I felt the same way. I needed you to be with me, inside me, whatever. I just needed you to touch me.”

“It was probably the moon. It makes us all feel like putting babies in our mates. You probably felt it because of our bond.”

“Or maybe I felt it because I have a fucking hot ass husband who loves to turn me on.”

“Hhmm…” he says, his hand sliding down between my legs as they part for him, a gasp coming from me as he starts to slide his finger up and down me. “Is that so?”

“Mmhmm, y-yeah,” I whisper, my breathing getting more rapid as he swirls his finger around my clit.

“Well if that’s the case, sweetheart…” Benny removes his hand and starts to slide himself between my legs, winking at me before he disappears under the sheet. 

“Today is all about you, sweetheart.” His voice is slightly muffled by the sheet.

“Benny, you don’t have to-”

“I was talking to this pretty pussy here. Now, let me make up for all the thrusting I did last night.”

—---- 

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

@greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi 

@wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso 

@theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz 

@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox 

@amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed  

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@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk 

[brittle-doughie]

Story first, Question later:

The Ancients (and a few others) are having sleepovers at different places. One at Y/N’s/Cookie Kingdom and the other at Blood Orange’s “Kingdom” (it’s mostly abandoned/ruined, only he lives their)

Girl’s sleepover:

Crowned Cupcake: “-and then she had the audacity to talk up to Y/N!”

Hollyberry: “and? They were probably just asking for directions, there’s no need to-“

Crowned Cupcake: “they were holding a conversation! I didn’t hear what it was about but I saw Y/N chuckle about something.”

White Lily: “they WHAT?”

Hollyberry: “now now, take it easy. She’s probably just a colleague or someone they met before. Maybe at a party or something… maybe.”

White Lily and Crowned Cupcake: “maybe…”

White Lily: “I’m still going to find her. She may have gotten away but she can’t hide for long.”

Crowned Cupcake: “agreed, knowing his ‘friend’, they’re probably talking about other girls or whatever…”

Meanwhile, at the boys sleepover:

Blood Orange: “…so are you going to get out of my hair or-“

Pure Vanilla: “until Dark Cacao hands over Y/N.”

Blood Orange: “…”

(Blood Orange is inside, building this palace.)

Blood Orange: “…so Y/N, ever thought about having a kid?”

Y/N: “yes, and I’ve decided not to.”

Blood Orange: “shame.”

Pure Vanilla: “I found diamonds!”

Y/N: “nice, now you can upgrade your gear.”

Blood Orange: “but save one at least, you can craft an enchantment table with that.”

Pure Vanilla: “alright. Thank you everyone.”

Y/N: “how’s progress going?”

Dark Cacao: “the army of the undead and its creatures still come in waves, I’ve crumbled tens or hundreds of them at this point.”

Y/N: “right….can you let me go now?”

Dark Cacao: “no.”

Y/N: :(

Blood Orange: “…are you sure you want to want to farm all that wheat? I know you like farming but-“

Y/N: “I’ll be fine, it will only take a little while.”

Blood Orange: “if you say so.”

Ok Question time :3

If all the ancients played Minecraft (or some other multiplayer game) who would have the easiest time and who’ll be struggling a lot?

Also: how story? I based it off this question.

Dark Cacao would likely be the one who’s spending time trying to figure it out while Pure Vanilla, making the occasional mistake here and there, would eventually get the hang of it!

[mercury2venus]

“Sometimes I hold you closer just to know you’re real.”—

Just something I wrote at random. I love Louis fine self so much.

I was selfish with Louis. As he was with me. But we truly couldn’t help it. I indulged in him as if he was my favorite chocolate during the holidays. From simple glances to throes of passion his form was committed to my memory.

“ we have to leave the bed at some point darling.”

He whispered in my ear. Our essence tangled within the sheets, I cuddled to him closer “ no we don’t, we can stay here forever.”

Louis laughed deeply. His smile always touched his eyes. “ yea we can but I have business to take care of sugar, and that little one inside of you is going to be needing food soon. Now let’s get up so I can feed my girls.” He gently smiled.

How are you so sure it’s a girl ? I asked with a giggle

“Saw it in my dream. A little baby girl sat on my lap and called me papa.” He said sweetly

Well if it is a girl what we naming her ?

“Claudia, we’ll name her Claudia.” He responded

I smiled. I like that name.

There are things I have yet to know about Louis De pointe Du lac. He’s given me bits and pieces of himself and slowly I’ve been able to put together the puzzle. It’s been quite a journey.

“You gonna be gone long Lou? “. I needed to know if his business would have him out all night again.

“I’ll be home in just 2 hours Cleo. Don’t worry about me. “

“I can’t help but to worry” I mumbled

“It’s not good for the baby, I’ll be back sooner than you think.”

After making a quick meal, Louis gave me and my tummy a kiss before embedding himself into the darkness once more.

That night i heard Louis stumble in. I kept my eyes shut tight. Whatever demons he’d been fighting I pray they do not find their way to my doorstep. Louis had trouble in the past, he was honest about that, but it didn’t ease my nerves when he came waltzing in here after midnight.

“ Cleo ? You awake baby “ his thick New Orleans accent rang through the quiet room.

“Yea I am.” My voice was small, I wasn’t afraid of Louis but there was a shift in the air and that unnerved me.

“ Cleo baby girl we’re going way for a bit, i don’t have much time to explain. I’m packing our things just please get dressed.” His voice was frantic.

I didn’t ask questions. Because I knew Lou. He didn’t fear anything. Not even death itself. So whatever spooked him, was serious. I scrambled out of bed and began to throw on anything. After getting dressed we walked out of our home.

I seen 2 figures waiting for us. As I got closer I seen one blonde white man and the other of Indian descent. Their eyes travelled to Louis and I felt my legs want to give out. They looked at my Louis the way I did, and when their eyes reached me ?

Well, death seemed easier. I could just feel the earth begin to swallow me whole and—

“Cut that shit out Lestat. Don’t you dare invade her mind.” Louis spat

A smirk played on the blondes lips. “ of course “

We entered the car, as we pulled off lestat decided to make small talk

“ so any baby names” I didn’t miss the venom in his tone as if I was beneath him. Like I wasn’t worthy

“ Claudia. Right Lou ? “

I felt Louis hold me tighter. He kissed my temple and smiled.

“ yea, Claudia”

The car grew silent.

The tension began to choke me

I’d follow Louis anywhere but for the first time, in his arms was the last place I wanted to be. “ please dont say that.” louis whispered.

“Hmph. Well I am Lestat the man next to me is Armand we are old friends of your boyfriend. “

“Husband. We’re married.” I corrected him

We came to an abrupt stop.

“ Lestat keep driving. Please. “ mumbled Armand

I watched the blonde man rush out the car, to stand on the side of the road. Suddenly he doubled over and vomited.

“Dramatic.” Armand muttered.

“Is he okay” I asked with concern. Armand looked back to me then Louis then rolled his eyes

“Ask your husband.” Louis sat back with his eyes closed.

“ just sit back cleo and take a nap. You and the baby need rest.” My mind whispered.

I felt myself lean back and drift off.

OMNISCIENT POV

Armand watched Louis through the mirror.

“ don’t say anything to me” Louis spoke,

“You love her I can see that.” Armand responded curtly.

“Yea. Yea I do.” Louis ran a hand down his face.

“Be honest with her “

“I’m trying”

“She’s in a car with 3 of the undead. You’re not trying hard enough”

Please lay off this. Louis spoke into his old lover’s mind

Lestat entered the car eyes red and voice gravely.

“This was a mistake. But it is too late I suppose.” He took a pause. “Is she aware of what grows inside of her? “

“It’s a regular human child”. Louis responded wearily.

“Oh ! So that’s why we’re taking a road-trip, you’re afraid.” Lestat shook his head and focused back on the road.

Louis looked to Cleo eyes brimming with tears.

“I am. He whispered. I’ve never been more afraid.”

[becauseimswagman1]

Lightskin brothaaaaa (pt.3)

Kelvin Harrison Jr. x reader x Aaron Pierre

Warnings: flirting.

(Part 1 here) (Part 2 here)

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

Aaron was the first to wake up. He looked around the room, memories of the night before flooded his brain. He cracked a half smile, then looked down at the other people in his bed. You were lying on top of Kelvin while Kelvin was tucked under his arm.

He knew you two would be hungry, so he needed to get up and make something shake. He slid his arm from up under Kelvin and got up as quietly as he could. As he stretched, he took note of the still slightly damp comforter on the floor. He sighed, laundry. Good thing he needed to wash anyway.

He went to the bathroom and showered. When he got out, he poked his head out of the bathroom and checked on y’all. 

Still asleep and still cute as ever.

He did his hygiene routine and oiled up. He slipped on some clean boxers and went through the house picking up everyone’s dirty clothes and throwing them in the washing machine. 

Then he popped back into the bedroom and took out some shirts and shorts of his and set them at the end of the bed. Maybe you two didn’t wanna walk around naked, not that he’d ever complain. 

He went back downstairs and got to making breakfast.

—------------------------

While plating the food, you walked in, in one of his shirts. You looked like you needed your pussy ate again, but he’d behave… for now. 

He smiled at you, “Good morning baby girl.”

You smiled back, “Good morning Aaron. I hate to be a bother, but do you have any spare toothbrushes? I have a thing where I can’t eat before brushing my teeth.”

He nodded and continued to plate the food, “Yeah, check the cabinet beneath the sink. You want coffee?”

“Yeah, coffee sounds nice after last night.”

He smiled, “Speaking of last night, I have things I would like to discuss with you and Kelvin once he’s up.”

“Like what? I never got a chance to ask, but-”

He snickered, “You fell asleep.”

You held back a smile, “But did you have a good time? 

He smiled, “I had more than a good time. I had an amazing time. I never experienced something as erotic as the two of you. Down for almost whatever.” 

You crossed your arms, “Hey that’s Kelvin! I was down for anything.”

Aaron smirked, “Oh, I know. You are a nasty somebody.”

You scoffed, “Like you weren’t tonguing us down any chance you got!”

He shrugged, “I own my freak. I know what I like in the bedroom.” he decided to test the waters, “Now go be a good girl and brush your teeth.”

You shivered, “... Shall I get Kelvin up too?”

“Yes. Breakfast is ready.”

You nodded and practically bolted back upstairs to the bedroom. 

You jumped on the bed, “Baby! Baby wake up!” you shook him, “He made us breakfast Kel! Get up!”

Kelvin mumbled, “I know.”

You moved to sit on him, “Well… it’s ready. He told me where the extra toothbrushes are so come on.”

“You go. I’ll be up in a minute.” he threw his arm over his face to block out the sunlight peaking through the blinds and curtains.

“Nooooo. Your idea of “up in a minute” means go back to sleep.”

He shrugged, “And I’ll go back to sleep.”

“Baby, we’re guests in Aaron’s home. Let’s not be rude.”

He moved his arm, “Fine, but if things go well, we won’t just be guests anymore, though.” he moved you off him and sat up.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that Aaron wants to have a talk with us.”

“He did mention that when I was down there. What do you think it’s about?” you got up and went to the bathroom, “Come brush your teeth!”

Kelvin got up and put on the other shirt and boxers Aaron left, “I don’t know babe. Maybe he wants to do this again.” then went into the bathroom. 

You handed him a toothbrush, “I wouldn’t mind doing it again. It’s definitely something to discuss.”

He kissed your cheek, “Thank you, baby.”

—-----------------

You both went downstairs after brushing your teeth and sharing a few innocent kisses.

Aaron wiped his mouth with a napkin and smiled when he saw y’all, “Finally! I thought I’d have to eat alone.”

You two sat down across from him where your plates were sat, “Sorry we took so long.” you dug into your plate.

“No, no, it’s okay. I take it you two talked about what I could want to speak about?”

Mid-bite, Kelvin spoke up, “Nah, we made out a little.” you almost spit out the food in your mouth. 

Aaron laughed at you, “Got any kisses left for me?”

Kelvin smirked, “After last night? Always.”

You gulped down the glass of water in front of you, “Speaking of last night, what did you wanna talk to us about?”

Aaron finished chewing his food, “You don’t beat around the bush, do you? Like ever? At all?”

“Not at all. I like getting to the point.” you ate more off your plate.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “I can tell.”

“Um, before we get all serious. I just wanted to say that this food good as hell! Like you always saying something about how you get down in the kitchen during interviews so to experience it and the food not disappoint? Yeah….” and with a hint of sarcasm, he said, “Shame we had to fuck you for some food, though.”

You and Aaron laughed loudly! Cause there’s no way he said that with a straight face!

“Listen! You could’ve just asked me to make you guys some food. I would’ve agreed, but breakfast after a good fuck is miles better than what I could ever cook up on a random weekend.”

You nodded in agreement while finishing your food, “Mhmmmm.”

Kelvin turned his head towards you, “Oh you agreeing with him? Over your man?”

“Yeah, babe. He’s right.”

“And to think we wanted to fuck him again.”

“Speaking of fucking, I wanted to talk about doing this again. And not just saying it to say it. I mean that when the both of you want to give up control for the night, call me.”

Kelvin raised an eyebrow, “We will have to discuss things in private.” he finished his food.

Aaron nodded standing up, “I understand. I can leave the kitchen if you’d like?”

You laughed while reaching across the table for his hands to sit him back down, “Aaron we’re joking. Kel and I are typically on the same page about big decisions and this is no different. Plus, we already talked it over in the bathroom. We want you.”

Aaron looked at Kelvin kinda of hoping he was trying to scrape the crumbs left on his plate.

But Kelvin was already looking at him, “She’s right. Last night was so much fun and it really opened our eyes to what we could explore in the bedroom. And… if you keep making breakfast like this we’ll definitely be over more often.”

Aaron smiled, “Ah, so, you only want me for my breakfast? Tired of cooking for yourselves I take it?”

“Aaron you know I have to cook for myself plus four!”

“But it’s only four of you in your band- OH Kelvin! Right.”

You laughed. Kelvin looked a little offended, “I cook for myself and you!” he pointed a finger at you, “I just happen to enjoy your meals better.”

“My point exactly. Listen, it’ll take more talks than this one to fully explore, but we really did love last night.”

Aaron had a look on his face you couldn’t quite read, but Kelvin could, “Hopefully another talk doesn’t need to happen right away.”

Kelvin matched the look, “Nah, not right away.”

He smirked, “Good.” he stood up and put the plates in the sink, “I will wash those later. Right now I need something sweet to finish off breakfast.”

You almost didn’t catch on… almost. “I’m sorry, what?”

Kelvin stood up and got behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and speaking into your ear, “I think I need something sweet too.” 

Aaron circled the table and stood next to you, “Would you be so kind as to let us indulge in the sweetness between your legs?”

And who are you to deny these obviously hungry men?

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

Taglist (comment to be added, dm to be removed): @sharmelasworld @ayeeeitsmiracle @femdisa @luvrsluxe @papithetia @mzv11 @gg-trini

[dykewithnofilter]

PART ONE (not guaranteed to continue) sevika x reader!

Best friends older sister! Sevika x reader fic, mean sev (kinda) reader is 18, almost out of high school, Sevika is 19, modern au, was supposed to be Christmas time but my mental health died 💔 no tw’s but mean sev and that’s it. Let me know if I missed anything!

MINORS, MEN, AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI! You will be blocked 🎀

Credit to @jaycers on TikTok for the photo!

You sat on the couch in your best friend’s room, mindlessly scrolling on your phone as you waited for her to come back with popcorn. “Alexis, hurry up!” You say, getting up to check on her. Upon walking out the door, you stumble into her older sister, Sevika. “Watch it.” Was all she said, pushing past you into her room.

You walk into the kitchen, the scent of popcorn filling your nose as you nudge your friend’s arm. “Why is it taking so long?” You roll your eyes. Your friend nudges you back. “You’re impatient dumbass. It’s been what.. five minutes?” Your friend replies. “Whatever. Your sister is rude by the way. Does she have any manners or what! I literally bumped into her and she was all moody and shit.” You rant. “She’s just like that, I dunno.” Your friend replies. “That’s not an excuse.” You say, eyes darting to the microwave as it beeps. “Finally. If you burned it I’ll punch you.” You say jokingly. Your friend chuckles, getting a bowl and the popcorn. You both go back to your friend’s room, settling on the couch before turning on the famous Christmas movie, ‘Elf’.

Near the middle of the movie, you get up to get some water. You had gotten pretty tired, and definitely a bit bored. You walk into the kitchen, annoyed at the sight of your friend’s older sister heating up some leftover food. You say nothing, reaching up and attempting opening the cupboard. Sevika noticed your struggle, raising a brow. “Do you need help?” Sevika said, her voice low. You hadn’t noticed how much you liked her voice. Well, till now. It sounded raspy and deep, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wonder for a moment. You realize she was waiting for you to say something. “Oh, uh— no. I’m fine, thanks.” You mumble a reply, not wanting to look at her. “I don’t want you breaking a glass if you can’t reach it.” Sevika said flatly. You hear footsteps from behind you. Sighing, you reluctantly accept her help, and step aside while she gets a glass for you. “Don’t worry, Alexis can’t reach em’ either. It’s to high up. Parents never got around to fixing it.” Sevika said, handing you the glass. You mumble a thanks, filling up your glass in the sink. Sevika frowns at your half-assed reply, but grabs her food and makes her way back to her room. Your body relaxed as soon as she left, and you sip your water. You rub your eyes, realizing how tired you are. You walk back to your friend’s room, sitting down and eventually dozing off.

Your friend looks down at you as you sleep. “Helloooo? Wake up.” She says. You grumble a random reply, your eyes flickering open. “Huh.. what?” You say sleepily. Your friend stands over you, and you realize you’re still on the couch. “Oh.. hi.” You mumble, rubbing your eyes and getting up. You stretch your stiff limbs, and put a tank top on. “Sorry I fell asleep.” You chuckle. “It’s fine, the movie got kinda boring anyhow.” Your friend shrugs. “Sevika made breakfast for me. There’s enough for you though.” She says. “What’d she make?” You say, grabbing your phone. “Some protein pancakes.” She replies, walking out into the kitchen. “Why protein?” You raise a brow, following her. “Have you seen her? She’s a gym rat. Anything she makes has to be packed with protein.” Your friend points out. “Eh.. as long as it’s food.” You say.

You sit next to your friend at the table, a pancake on the plate in front of you. You have to admit, it does smell good. Sevika’s still in the kitchen, cleaning her mess. “I made those for Alexis.” She says, glancing in your direction. “Chill sev, I said she could have one.” Your friend said back. You awkwardly avert your eyes, staring at your plate. “Whatever.” Sevika grumbled.

You eat your food, surprised that the pancake wasn’t gritty like most box mix protein pancakes. “What’d you do to make this taste so good?” You ask Sevika. Sevika glances in your direction. “It’s box mix. I added water and some eggs and shit.” She grunted. “No I mean it’s not like.. gritty. If that makes sense. Or is it the brand?” You ask. “I mean I added creamer to make it fluffy.. I don’t know?” Sevika said. “Oh. That’s probably it.” You mumble, realizing you dragged on an unwanted conversation. You finish your food, not speaking another word.

Before leaving, you make sure to hug your friend. “I’ll see you next week?” You say. “You’ll see me Monday doofus.” Your friend chuckles. “I know I’m saying at your house.” You roll your eyes. “Yeah yeah, I know. Scram.” She joked. “Bye bye.” You giggle, walking out the door.

You get in your car, reaching for your phone, but realize you’d left it on the couch. “Shit.” You sigh, getting out of her car. You walk to the front door, knocking again. Instead of Alexis, this time Sevika answers. Your eyes immediately dart to her chest, the camisole that she was wearing showed off her muscles and chest perfectly. You look back up quickly, embarrassment washing over you as your eyes meet hers once more. She stares back at you with a surprised, confused look. “Aren’t you supposed to be gone now?” She said, her voice low and raspy due to it being morning. “Uh— just, uhm, forgot my phone.” You mumble, averting your eyes. “Oh.” She grunted, moving aside. You slid by her quickly, going to the couch and grabbing your phone. You made your way out, but not before noticing sevika’s quick glance at you. You shut the door, embarrassed as you drove to your apartment.

Let me know if you want a part two, would definitely have romance and or smut 😉 NOT PROOFREAD!

[ilyrafe]

𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ✧ 𝒅. 𝒔.

pairing: drew starkey x f!reader

warnings: the smallest bit of angst, i promise!

word count: 0.8k (she smol!)

“no!”

drew gets startled by your scream and the loud thud of something breaking on the floor.

“babe?” he calls out for you, as he runs around, looking for you.

he finds you in the living room, on your knees, picking up the remains of the mugs you made. the blood on the floor alarms him instantly.

“ugh, i’m such an idiot!” you whine, on the verge of tears.

“baby, wait! let me help you.”

carefully, drew picks you up and takes you to the washroom, where he carefully cleans your injured hand.

“i broke the mugs!” you cry. “i spent an entire week making them and i broke them! and now i don’t know what to get your mom!”

“it’s okay, it was an accident, gravity just did its job.” he says, trying to lighten the mood.

“drew, i can’t show up at your mom’s house empty handed.”

it’s endearing how much you care. instead of buying something, you decided to make jodi a gift. drew once said his mom is obsessed with mugs and you wanted to give her something she would like. you were so excited and happy with your work, but now everything is ruined and your hand is injured.

he opens the cabinets looking for the first aid kit and he quickly patches you up.

“okay, all done!”

he places a soft kiss over the band-aid and then kisses your lips.

“what am i gonna do now? i don’t have the time to make another mug!”

“she’ll understand, i promise. don’t stress over this, okay?”

you sigh, defeated. you want to make a great first impression on his family, and showing up at their house without a gift is unacceptable.

“oh! you did say she liked candles, right?! i know just the place to get her the best candles! and i can even ask them to put her name on it!”

the way your face lights up when the idea crosses your mind is beyond adorable. he doesn’t like when you spend money on him or his family, but you can’t help it — you love giving gifts to people, and you do put so much thought into them.

you get out of the washroom nearly running, and drew just laughs at your antics. there’s nothing he can do to make you stop wanting to please others, really.

he hears your quick steps running around the apartment, getting your things before you leave to go to the said store.

“i’ll be back in an hour!” you announce, almost out the door.

“wait!” drew calls after you, grabbing his keys from the counter. “i’m coming with you.”

you pause, one hand on the doorknob, giving him a confused look.

“you don’t have to.”

“i know, but i want to. besides,” he smirks, stepping closer, “you might need someone to help carry the bags when you inevitably buy more than just a candle.”

you roll your eyes, but can’t help the small laugh that escapes.

“fine, but we’re sticking to the plan: just the candle.”

“sure, babe. whatever you say.”

the two of you head out together, walking down the city streets as the sun dips low in the sky. drew can’t stop sneaking glances at you, your determination to fix the situation despite your earlier frustration has him smiling to himself.

when you arrive at the candle shop, it’s like you’ve stepped into a cozy wonderland. the shelves line the walls, filled with beautifully crafted candles in every scent imaginable.

“okay, let’s find something perfect for your mom,” you say, diving into the task with laser focus.

drew follows close behind, occasionally picking up random candles to sniff, only to scrunch his nose at the overly floral or overly sweet ones.

eventually, you find it: a beautiful, hand-poured soy candle with a woodsy scent that reminds you of drew’s stories about his mom’s love for nature. better yet, the store offers custom engraving!

you request jodi’s name along with a little heart etched onto the glass jar, and the store clerk promises to have it ready in twenty minutes.

as you wait, drew pulls you aside and wraps an arm around your waist.

“see? no need to worry about it, problem solved. mom will love you, with or without a mug.”

“i still feel bad about breaking them,” you admit, leaning against him.

“accidents happen,” he reassures you, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your hip. “you care so much, and that’s what matters.”

you look up at him, your heart swelling at his words.

“you think so? i really hope she does.”

“i know so.”

why do you need people’s approval that bad, you don’t know, but you do.

by the time the candle is ready, you’re feeling much more confident. you thank the clerk profusely, admiring the elegant engraving before slipping the candle into a gift bag.

as the two of you leave the store, drew laces his fingers with yours.

“since we’re out, can i treat you to dinner?”

“i should be the one treating you to dinner.” you remark.

“as if i’m gonna let you pay for anything.” he scoffs as he grabs your hand, leading you to a nice little italian restaurant nearby.

just like that, the evening turns into an unexpected but perfect little date, reminding you why drew is the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.