#do the thing not for them but for yourself and tell them you are who youre doing it for

[okaylikeschaewon]

Chapter 10: Choices

~6k words, male reader, smut

“I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?” Sakura yawned, rubbing her eyes.

“Kkura I’m fucking scared.”

She took one proper look at you and that was enough to let the drowsiness instantly fade from her face. The fact that it was the break of dawn and that she had just rolled out of bed a moment earlier seemingly no longer mattered. Shrugging her shoulders to protect herself from the cold, Sakura shut the door behind her and stepped out into the crisp morning air, pulling her robe tight around her body.

“What happened?” she asked softly, her beautiful, round eyes widened. Her expression was warm, despite the chilly morning air.

“What if she doesn’t take it well?” you asked, your breath catching in the cold and your teeth clattering.

“Let’s slow down for a second,” Sakura began shivering. “But first, can we go inside? It’s freezing out here.”

“Uh…”

“Oh, right,” Sakura frowned. “Car?”

“That works,” you agreed, turning around and leading Sakura towards where you parked.

Sakura got into the passenger seat as you turned on the car.

“Much better,” Sakura shivered, holding her hands up to the vents as you started blasting the heat. “Alright, now do you want to explain what you’re talking about?”

“I slept on it, like you said,” you began anxiously. “I can’t shake my head around… I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Sakura sighed, her eyes shimmering with compassion. Her gaze was soft and understanding, radiating a soothing energy that promised there would be no judgment on her end.

“You’re going to need to clarify who you’re talking about.”

“Sorry. It’s Zuha. I can’t get that girl out of my head. I swear ever since she confessed, I’ve felt something inside me that I just haven’t been able to shake.”

“Then I guess you have your answer.”

“Isn’t it fucked up though?” you raised your voice unintentionally, nearly shouting at the girl without even realizing it. “Sorry, I just mean like, for Chaewon, I feel awful. I still really love her, I think, but I think I also have feelings for Kazuha? I don’t know, nothing makes sense to me anymore, what am I supposed to do?”

“I’m not here to tell you what’s right and wrong,” Sakura replied calmly. “I love both of those girls with all of my heart.” 

“And I still have a lot of love for both of them.”

“But you can’t see both of them romantically,” Sakura smiled gently. “There’s no real nice way to put it, you have to pick one.”

“It just feels wrong,” you let out an exasperated sigh. “Why can’t I just have them both?”

“It’s one thing to sleep with both of them, but it’s another to have feelings for both,” Sakura chuckled. “Unfortunately, I don’t think it would be fair to either girl if you tried keeping both.”

It sucked to hear, even if for just a moment you tried to trick yourself into thinking it would be possible. “You’re right, I know, it just blows.”

“And I’m not telling you which one you should pick, that’s your decision,” Sakura continued. “Lucky you, by the way, in the grand scheme of things there are worse choices to be left with.”

“I know, I’m making my own life difficult.”

“I’m not saying it’s an easy choice.”

“But I have to make it.”

“Yeah, you do,” Sakura pursed her lips as her expression bled empathy. “They both really like you, more than you probably know.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.”

“My bad,” Sakura chuckled before her expression turned more serious. “If it makes you feel better, I know better than anyone that you’ll do right by Chaewon even if you decide to move onto Kazuha.”

Better than anyone. Something about that comment didn’t exactly sit right with you, and immediately you figured something was wrong.

“Sakura?” you gave her a look of confusion as you fixated on that one line.

“I’m fine,” her voice cracked as she quickly turned away from you to look out the passenger side window.

“I… are you…” your voice trailed off, and it was like there was a rock in your throat. All of a sudden you couldn’t speak, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You reached out for Sakura’s shoulder with your hand.

“I said I’m fine,” she repeated firmly, pulling her shoulder away from your touch, still staring out the window. “Just… give me a second, please.”

“Sure, let me know,” you leaned back slowly.

This couldn’t be much further from what you expected the conversation would be like. It all happened too fast, you were still trying to comprehend how it turned into this. You kept your gaze fixated on Sakura’s back, confused and worried about her, forgetting about your own dilemma for the moment.

She brought one of her hands up to her face, presumably wiping her eyes with the cuff of her robe, followed by a couple of silent sobs. Her body trembled just enough for you to notice, as if she was still outside in the cold, but the car was as warm as it could be. She let out one final sniffle, shrugging her shoulders as she took a deep breath and turned back to face you.

“Sorry about that,” she stated, her beautiful round eyes stained scarlet. “As I was saying-”

“Sakura,” you cut in, barely hearing your own voice over your thumping heart. “Are you okay?”

A shaky exhale escaped her lips as her brow furrowed. Her lip began to tremble, and her eyelids began blinking rapidly. She nodded, unable to find her voice.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Sakura laughed as a couple of tears flew down her face. “About how pathetic I am? How it takes one mention of our past to send me down a fucking rabbit hole all night?”

“What are you talking about? You’re not pathetic-”

“Aren’t I?” she shouted, her voice unstable and shaky, each syllable wavering and threatening collapse. “I bet you didn’t think about it at all after we stopped talking last night.”

“Of course I did,” you responded unconvincingly, fully aware that she knew you were lying.

“Yeah? Did you also spend all night looking at pictures? Pictures that I refused to delete? Even though I told myself I would?” Sakura snapped back. “That’s what I thought.”

It was tough to hear and you were admittedly at a loss for words, staring at Sakura as she was on the verge of fresh tears. It hurt so unbelievably bad to see her like this. You’ve known this girl for years and seeing her in this state was a rare occurrence, but it was so fucking difficult whenever it happened. You hated it. You hated every second of what was happening in this car.

“I’m fine,” Sakura choked, still struggling to get the words out. “Being reminded last night just really had me thinking about those days.”

“I’m sorry-”

“It took me a really long time to forgive you,” Sakura confessed, ignoring your apology. “Like, a really fucking long time.”

“I had no idea-”

“I once told Zuha I was going to murder you in your sleep.”

“Oh,” you raised your eyebrows. “Understandable, very reasonable.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Sakura scoffed. “What you did was… honestly it’s been long enough, I’m going to say it. What you did was fucked up.”

“Excuse me? We both agreed to end things when we ended them,” you finally found your voice and defended yourself. “How can you put all the blame on me like that?”

“You’re right, we both agreed,” Sakura retaliated with her voice full of rage. “I’m talking about the reason you gave and what you did right after.”

“You mean-”

“Yes you fucking asshole,” Sakura interjected. “Do you have any idea how much that hurt me? And it’s not like she knew a thing, I made sure to never tell her, because it wasn’t her fault, she didn’t deserve to have that in her mind.”

“I didn’t plan for things to happen the way they did, you know this. It just… things just happened the way they did, no one could have seen it coming.”

“I. Fucking. Know,” Sakura sighed with exasperation, frustratingly agreeing as if she knew she had no other option. “Of course I fucking know, I’m the one who basically…” she sighed deeper with heavy pent up frustration behind her before adding in a nearly-silent whisper. “But it still really hurt.”

“I’m really sorry Kkura, I-”

“Never thought about it? Had no idea? Why would you? You had a pretty girl obsessed with you while all I had was fucking nothing, nothing but the pleasure of watching you replace me in less than… however long it was. I don’t even give a fuck about that part, it’s just the reason you gave me.”

She was right, to a degree. It’s not that you hadn’t thought about it, but you clearly did not realize how much you put her through, or perhaps you were just too much of a dickhead to care. She deserved better, and it took you far too long to realize this, you hurt the girl who was there for you far more than you ever could have known.

“Kkura-”

“Alright, fine, maybe I did care about that part as well, maybe I felt like what we had wasn’t very special if you could replace me that quickly. I don’t know, but I could have overlooked it,” Sakura kept going, not letting you get a word in. “Really it’s probably my fault, I could have said no when you asked me that night, I could have just ignored your text, never set you up on that date.”

“That’s not fair at all, no one could have ever predicted that night to turn into what it did. Chaewon wasn’t even in the picture at that point. It wasn’t even supposed to be her, you know this, things just kinda fell into place after.���

“Obviously I do, I set it up,” Sakura snapped at you. “And we both know damn well how I don’t have it in me to ignore you like that, but I probably should have.”

“Sakura, I know I hurt you,” you began as you chose your next words carefully. “But you know my first date with Chaewon was before the announcement, right? I had no idea she was going to debut again, she didn’t tell me until way later.”

“Even if you knew, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but it still matters,” you replied softly. “The reason I gave you was genuine, and I don’t think I would have gone forward with Chaewon had I known about the group. You believe me, right?”

She paused for a moment to think about what you said. “Yeah, I do, and honestly I don’t really blame you, I know I don’t,” Sakura replied, her voice losing the anger and being replaced with a touch of dejection - one that stung much more than when she was yelling at you. “I get it, I saw the way you looked at her. It was clear as day you were madly in love with her, and you two were just so perfect together.”

“That must have made it even harder on you,” you muttered, your vision starting to blur. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Sakura replied bluntly. “How could I be upset? Chaewon was happier than I had ever seen her. I was happy for her. Of course I was. It’s not her fault.”

Words once again escaped your brain.

“As mad as I was, I was also secretly happy for you as well,” Sakura confessed with a smile stained with melancholy. “It may sound stupid, but even though we didn’t work out, deep down I still wanted to see you happy. Oh, who am I fucking kidding, it wasn’t that deep down. I wanted you to be happy, even when you hurt me. Pathetic as fuck, right?”

“And I also want to see you happy, does that make me pathetic too?” you replied, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. “I hope you know I really mean that, I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. And my reason wasn’t bullshit, I swear I really felt that way, I just wasn’t expecting that whole thing to unfold the way it did.”

“I know, I don’t think either of us expected it, I didn’t even know it was an option,” Sakura mumbled quietly under her breath. “I promise I never held it against Chaewon.”

“Just against me.”

“Only at the start,” Sakura laughed softly as the tears finally spilled. “You know how I said I know you’d do right by Chaewon? Yeah, as much as you hurt me, there’s a reason I didn’t actually murder you in your sleep.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know, but sometimes things happen,” Sakura smiled faintly, her eyes glistening as she fought the losing battle against the wave of emotion threatening to break through. “Seeing how happy you made Chaewon made it a lot easier for me to forgive you.”

Just like that, tears also began flowing down your face in a way you couldn’t control.

“That… wasn’t supposed to be…” Sakura stammered quickly.

“Sakura I’m so-” you choked up before finishing your thought.

“It’s okay,” Sakura whispered, leaning over and wrapping you up in her arms. “I promise it’s okay. I’m here with you.”

It took you a few moments - squeezing Sakura tenderly - before you were able to compose yourself again. You let go of her slowly and another wave of warmth shot through your body when you saw her face tear-soaked.

“It’s all behind us now,” Sakura said softly. “Just like I was able to forgive you, I’m confident Chaewon will, too.”

“Does that mean you think she’ll be mad at me?”

“No! I didn’t mean it like that,” Sakura quickly backtracked. “This situation is different.”

“Isn’t this one worse?” you asked nervously. “Fuck, Sakura I don’t know anymore, maybe this is all a mistake.”

“I don’t think you should doubt yourself, just listen to what your heart’s telling you. It’s also kinda too late to back out now, think about Zuha.”

“You really think so?”

“I don’t see a better option, but it’s definitely complicated,” Sakura replied nervously. “Just be thoughtful when it’s time to tell Chaewon, if you’re mean to her, maybe I will have to murder you in your sleep.”

“Then let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you half-smiled. “But let’s be honest, we both know I could never hurt that girl on purpose, ever.”

“You probably thought that about… actually let’s not go there again,” Sakura returned your smile half-heartedly. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“I really hope you’re right.”

“Fingers crossed,” Sakura chuckled, wiping her face clean as she opened the door.

The two of you stepped into the brisk air once more. You walked around your car to Sakura who was waiting for you. Without speaking a single word, the two of you embraced in a tight hug, properly this time.

“Thank you,” you mumbled into her shoulder, the coldness of the morning being completely replaced by the warmth of Sakura’s hug.

“Good luck with everything, I’m always here for you if I can help with anything,” Sakura whispered back before letting go of you and shooting you a nervous glance. “When do you plan on talking to them?”

The talk with Sakura ended up creeping just a bit of doubt into your decision, but your mind was still set. You knew, as much as you didn’t want to do it, this conversation had to happen at some point soon because the longer you waited the worse it would become. With that in mind, you returned Sakura’s nervous expression with a look of determination.

“Right now.”

—

“Hey,” you whispered, peeking your head through the door to see if she was awake.

“Oh! I thought it was Kkura,” Kazuha blurted out as she looked up from her phone. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I came to see you, actually,” you answered while opening the door a bit more. “Mind if I come in?”

“Oh, uh, yeah of course,” she replied, sitting up in her bed and putting her phone aside. “Come, sit. What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

Kazuha raised an eyebrow at you as if you were an idiot. “I pieced together that much,” she giggled softly. “Did you not sleep well? Your eyes are a bit red.”

“Oh no that’s just-”

“You don’t have pinkeye do you?” Kazuha leaned back away from you. “I really don’t want to wear an eye patch, not during promos.”

“No, Zuha, it’s not pinkeye,” you smiled meekly.

“Okay good!” she giggled again, leaning back in and cuddling up next to you before quickly pulling away in fear. “Uh, sorry, that was… I probably shouldn’t do stuff like that right now with the whole… sorry…”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” you scooted closer to her as her face turned a shade light pink. “Forget everything else for a moment, because things are a bit complicated, but just listen to me. I like you, Zuha. A lot.”

“Oh,” Kazuha blushed even harder. “T-Thank you? I also like you, a lot.”

“I want to make you my girlfriend.”

“What?” Kazuha began blinking rapidly as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “But what about-”

“I told you, please just for a moment forget everything else, we’ll figure that stuff out,” you cut her off. “Just tell me, would you like that?”

Kazuha pondered your words. Unknown to you, her heart was beating harder than it ever has before. “I… I would…” she muttered before smiling brightly at you with her eyes twinkling. “Yes, I would.”

Just like that, you knew you made the correct choice. The way she looked at you, the way you felt right now, everything was perfect. You wanted nothing more in life than this girl sitting next to you, that precious smile and those pure eyes. Your insides were burning up in a warmth of comfort and love that you didn’t know you felt towards this girl, all of a sudden it just came rushing in. That gnawing sensation you’ve had inside you ever since her confession, it finally made sense.

Unfortunately, the feeling only lasted for a fleeting moment before reality came crashing in and Chaewon popped into your mind again.

“What’s wrong?” Kazuha looked concerned as she immediately noticed your shift. She pulled you into her arms, just like Sakura did earlier. “I guess we need to address the elephant in the room.”

“How am I supposed to tell her?” you whispered, pulling away from Kazuha slowly. “I want this, I really do, but I don’t want to hurt Chaewon.”

“And I don’t either,” Kazuha agreed as worry filled her expression. “Should we talk to her together?”

“You think that’s better? It’s a bit of a unique situation, I don’t really know what to do.”

“I don’t either,” Kazuha smiled softly. “You’d be my first relationship, remember?”

“I guess we’ll be traversing some uncharted territory together,” you smiled back at her before leaning in.

Without thinking, you kissed her. As soon as your lips touched, you froze, regretting and realizing this probably wasn’t the right time - but then you felt Kazuha kiss back. You let her take control as she ended up on top of you, her lips pressed softly against yours.

“Zuha,” you whispered into her mouth.

“You asked me to forget everything else, just for a moment,” she whispered back before kissing you again. “Can we really forget it all, please?”

“You mean?”

“Yes,” she gasped as she sat up and began taking off her shorts. “Can we?”

Your mind went a bit hazy as you thought back to the other night. The memories of how good Kazuha felt flooded into your brain.

“Fuck it,” you also began lowering your pants before you flipped Kazuha onto her back and spread her legs.

“Is this wrong?” she asked, looking up at you with her hair framing her face as if she was some sort of angel laying there beneath you.

“Probably,” you shrugged as you pulled her underwear to the side. “We could stop, we don’t have to do this right now.”

“No!” her voice cracked, immediately followed by an intense red glow of her cheeks. “I just mean… uh…”

“Don’t explain, I understand,” you smiled down at her as you lined yourself up. “Whatever happens in this room this morning, it’s between us and only us, let’s agree to put everything else on pause, alright?”

“I’d like that,” Kazuha nodded at you before spreading her legs a bit wider. “Go slow?”

“Let me know,” you whispered back as you pressed yourself forward carefully. You leaned in close, slipped your hands under Kazuha’s body, and pressed your mouth to her neck, kissing it softly as she flexed her body. “Try to relax, if you can.”

“It’s really fucking tight,” Kazuha whispered, arching her back.

“Should I stop?”

Kazuha hesitated, taking a couple deep breaths before speaking. “No, not yet, just… just slowly…”

“Okay,” you moved up a bit and began lifting Kazuha’s shirt up.

She helped you take it off, exposing her perky tits, letting a sweet moan escape her lips as you pressed your mouth to her chest.

“Oh that’s nice,” she whispered as you started moving your hips. “Good, but still really tight.”

“Hold on,” you moved your hips back and pulled out. “How about we slow down even more?”

Kazuha bit her lip. “I’m sorry, for some reason I’m more nervous this time.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled reassuringly while bringing your fingers between her legs. With delicate and deliberate movements, you tried your best to ease her nerves, slowly pressing where she was most sensitive. “We can take our time, or we can try again another time, it’s up to you.”

“How about a different position?” Kazuha suggested as she pressed her fingers down on top of yours and pressed them down a bit harder. “But this feels nice.”

“Yeah? Should we just keep doing this?” you asked before leaning into her again and kissing her collarbone.

“This feels really nice,” Kazuha moaned softly as she pressed her fingers even harder, guiding your hand around her pussy.

Your fingers began sliding easier as time passed. The gentle sound of wetness, accompanied by Kazuha’s eyes shutting and her features softening, put you into a state of ease. It was working, and you didn’t want to stop. You had her entire body relaxing, you could almost see each and every fiber of Kazuha’s toned muscles relax.

She began moaning in a musical-like tone, one that screamed class and innocence with just a touch of naughty. It fit her so well, that pretty - unbelievably pretty - face. Even as she scrunched up her expression, she just looked so fucking pretty. You could stare at her all day.

While this was going on, the pressure building up in your cock was becoming too much. You couldn’t help but start stroking yourself to the view, trying to relax your own body as Kazuha began squirming beneath your fingers. It took a lot of self control, you knew that you could finish in just moments if you let yourself go, but right now you were more concerned with how Kazuha felt.

“You’re so beautiful,” you muttered softly under your breath as Kazuha’s body began trembling. He moans crescendoed, that beautiful voice of hers piercing your ears, but despite the increase in pitch, she stayed quiet. Elegant, in a way, even as she started cumming on your fingers, the epitome of grace and tenderness.

“I want it,” Kazuha moaned, fluttering her eyes open as she let go of your hand.

“What were you thinking? You wanna try being on top again?”

“No,” Kazuha smiled before pulling you closer. “Just like this, I want to see you, to kiss you. Is that fine?”

“Absolutely,” you gasped as Kazuha spread her legs a bit wider for you and took hold of your cock. She gave you a couple of soft strokes before rubbing her thumb against your tip, pressing against the little glob of precum. “That sounds perfect.”

With your cock in hand, you slid forward between her legs, pressing your tip against her entrance.

“Come on,” Kazuha replied while spreading herself even more, showing off her flexibility. “I need this.”

“So do I,” you muttered as you eased your cock into her pussy.

This time was a million times better than last time. She was still perfectly tight, but her pussy accepted your cock beautifully. The warmth and snugness hugged your cock like a blanket, bringing you unmatched comfort and sensation. She had the most ideal pussy.

She was like a flower, her soft and delicate curves moist to your touch. There was this warmth, this allure, that kept you captivated. You were entranced by Kazuha’s body, so much so that you felt this irresistible urge of greediness within you.

As carefully as you could, you grabbed Kazuha’s neck from behind and began kissing her deeply. Once you started, you pressed your thumb against her clit, making little circles along her skin. Your tongue slipped past her lips, gently intertwining and mixing against hers, while you worked her entire body.

“You feel so good,” you whispered as you leaned away from the kiss.

“Give it to me,” Kazuha pleaded with her eyes wide. “Please.”

So you picked up the tempo, pushing your hips harder, pressing your cock deeper. You slowly broke down that layer of delicateness that you viewed Kazuha through - her expression was basically begging for it. The more you fucked Kazuha, the harder you went, and the better it felt.

At this point, your thrusts had lost almost all degrees of tenderness, and both your hands had found their way to Kazuha’s hips. She took it well, bracing herself as you pressed your fingers into her skin and slammed your cock against her pussy. She showed no signs of anything other than raw pleasure as she took your cock over and over.

If she felt good, you felt fucking amazing. You lightened the grip you had on her hips as you slowed down your thrusting. This wasn’t a moment you wanted to rush, but you could only slow down so much - your body wouldn’t let you stop completely, it was out of your control. Still, you made do, sliding your hands up Kazuha’s body and giving her tits a few little squeezes. Her body was fucking amazing.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that you were too close to hold back. Despite your best efforts, it was already too late, so you took hold of Kazuha’s hips once more, pushing down on Kazuha’s body and shoving your cock into her as hard and fast as you could. Kazuha’s moans filled your ears as she shut her eyes and arched her back beneath you.

She looked so fucking good right now, even as your vision was going blurry. You held on for just a bit longer, fighting back any fatigue as your cock throbbed harder than ever. Her warm pussy felt better than heaven in this moment, and with a couple of final thrusts and grunts, you began launching your cum deep inside her pussy.

“Zuha,” you grunted a final time as your body gave up, collapsing onto her.

The next few moments had you in a trance as you let your cock pulse inside Kazuha’s warmth as she wrapped her arms around your body, rubbing your back softly.

“You feel so good,” Kazuha whispered against your ear. “Oh fuck, you feel so damn good, cum for me, fill me up.”

Such gentle words when delivered through her voice, but she was driving you insane right now. You almost felt paralyzed inside her as your cock just kept on spilling cum again and again, the pulsing felt like it went forever. It took so much strength for you to finally, carefully ease yourself out of Kazuha’s body. Even lifting yourself up off her was a task.

“Fuck, that’s a lot,” you mumbled as you pulled out, leaving your cum spilling between Kazuha’s legs as you reached for some tissues. “One second.”

“Wow,” Kazuha muttered as she gently rubbed herself, spreading your cum around, playing with it between her fingers. “That was something.”

“Something good or something not good?” you asked as you sat back down on the bed next to her.

“Something amazing,” Kazuha smiled softly. “But also a bit inappropriate.”

“If it makes you feel better, Chaewon technically wanted me to do this,” you carefully wiped her inner thighs clean before tossing the tissues away. “Although it still feels a bit wrong.”

“Oh,” Kazuha turned her head away from you.

“Not you, that felt amazing,” you quickly pulled her into your arms for a hug before grabbing her by both shoulders and staring tenderly into her eyes. “Zuha, let there be no confusion, that was fucking perfect.”

“Right, sorry, I guess I’m still just a bit…” her voice tapered off as she looked up at you and gave you a weak smile.

“You’re. Perfect. And. Amazing,” you whispered, kissing her neck between each word. “It’s totally natural to be a bit-”

“Sensitive?” Kazuha finished your sentence. “Because I am, I’ll admit it.”

“And that’s completely okay. What I said was stupidly phrased. I’m sorry,” you wrapped an arm tightly around Kazuha’s shoulders, pulling her to sit next to you, and leaned against her head. “Things are just messy, but we'll figure it out. Together.”

“I hope so,” Kazuha sighed softly. Her hand began exploring your thigh, inching towards your shaft slowly until she gently caressed it with her fingertips. “I wish there was some sort of way that we could do this without all the mess.”

“Zuha, you know it doesn’t work like that.”

“I know,” her voice faded softly and she unwrapped your arm from her shoulder, leaning away from you and turning towards you. “Okay, this might sound stupid since you call me Zuha all the time, but I loved that. This time it felt… different?”

“I’m glad,” you smiled as a wave of warmth flooded your body. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly,” you kissed the top of her head. “But one thing - do not call me daddy.”

“Oh no I could never,” Kazuha agreed quickly, sounding completely put off just by the thought of it as she rested her head against your body again. “I guess we should probably talk about boundaries and stuff at some point.”

“We have a lot to talk about, but maybe we should wait until…”

“Until after you talk to Chaewon?”

“Yeah, I think,” you replied as your mind drifted into thought, trying to figure out how to go about things, gently stroking Kazuha’s hair. “Hey, I thought you said we should both talk to her together?”

“Well, I think you got it, I don’t know what I’d say.”

“I don’t even know what I’m going to say,” you sighed. “Zuha, do you think this might cause problems with the group dynamic?”

“Truthfully? At first, yeah, I did,” Kazuha answered quietly. “But then I got to thinking.”

There was a pause, a bit longer than you expected. Kazuha lifted and turned herself slightly so that she could look up at you.

“And?” you encouraged her to continue as the anticipation grew.

“Promise you’ll keep this between us?”

“I promise.”

“I’m serious, you can’t tell anyone.”

“Zuha, yes, I know. Not a soul.”

“Alright,” she bit her lip nervously. “I think there might have been a bit of… something… between Sakura and Chaewon at the very beginning.”

“Oh?” you waited for her to continue as you thought back to what Sakura told you in the car earlier.

“Look, I met them a bit after everyone else, but I could tell there was some sort of… resentment? I don’t exactly know, and maybe it was just because we were all getting to know each other.”

“Well, most of you were.”

“So you see what I’m saying?” Kazuha pursed her lips. “Chaewon and Sakura barely talked. I never understood it since they knew each other already, but then, seemingly overnight, the two of them became closer than ever. I don’t know if the others ever noticed it.”

“Chaewon never gave me details, but I sort of know around when this happened,” you explained. “She told me she spent a night with Sakura, and I didn’t really ask questions.”

“Right. Anyway, the reason I brought this up is because I really think no matter how the conversation with her goes, as a group we’ll get through things, we always do.”

Her words were reassuring at least, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit better. “Thank you, really.”

Then, you leaned in, but before you could kiss her, Kazuha lunged up towards you and pressed her lips against yours, catching you a bit by surprise. She kissed you aggressively until you fell onto your back with her on top of you. It felt like this kiss would go on forever, and maybe it would have if it weren’t for the knock on the door.

“I don’t know what’s going on in there, but I really need to get ready!” Sakura's voice came through the door.

---

A/N:

I posted a poll and based on the first day responses, Dating Seraphs was in the lead. Ask and you shall receive!

The Kazuha arc continues! Maybe? Probably? I guess next chapter will have more answers. The talk with Chaewon, the history with Sakura, sex with Kazuha, there's so much to cover in the next few chapters! Also, there's a cameo appearance coming soon that I can't imagine anyone will be able to guess because I don't know if I've ever talked about this idol, but we'll see how popular she is among my readers (ex-izone member). I'll give this chapter at least a few days to marinate before my next post.

Based on how things are going in my writing world and the initial responses to that poll, Dating Seraphs needs attention. My next post will probably either be Debauchery p2 or something in the roommates universe, followed by Dating Seraphs ch11, and then most likely I'll give Twice some love and post an update to that story. Of course, this is subject to change!

Feedback, requests, messages, comments, asks, whatever you feel like sending, feel free. I'm a bit more active these days with writing stuff, but just please be considerate if you're going to send something. I've gotten a few questionable DMs recently. Use common sense!

[nightingale-prompts]

Phantom is so Moody

"I don't even understand what I am. I'm a clone so I can't age. But what does it even mean to be a clone? I'm not 100% Superman but I'm still nit like him or Lex? I wasn't born like a normal person so does that mean I don't have a soul?" Kon ranted.

Danny the muti-dimensional godlike being the team had contracted into being their aid slowly shuffled from under his mountain of blankets and pillows and yawned.

"What are you talking about?" He drawled lazily. "Of course you have a soul.

"But I'm like artificially made in a lab." Kon retorted.

"And? So what? Are you telling me I'm wrong?" Danny challenged " Hey stupid, everything has a soul. You, your friends, animals, a tree, a fucking blade of grass, even a kid's toy. If it has energy it has a soul. I'm not talking metaphorically, I mean literally. Souls are a real tangible thing and I will eat your soul if you don't put some food on my sacrificial altar. Also, get therapy."

Kon much like the others had gotten used to Danny. He was mostly all bark and no bite.

As Kon headed to the kitchen to get the god his post-nap snack he heard Danny speak again.

"Also, you can age. Who told you that you couldn't? Age isn't anything but the slow decay of atoms. You are aging. You just aren't changing because your body is so new. Given enough years it'll start to show. Then you'll be no different from anyone else. Granted Superman's race also grows differently. You are so fucking dramatic. You are fine the way you are." The godling huffed, "Ancients, you guys are annoying. You treat existence like it's torture and you'll bearly understand how blessed you are to exist simply because of how un-ideal it is. Look shit sucks, it sucks most of the time but human suffering is caused by humans. You are torturing yourself with all these what-ifs and angst. Just stop caring."

Danny wasn't saying all this to be comforting. He rarely does stuff like that. If anything he was ambivalent to Kon. It still made him feel better though. One thing you could trust about Danny was that he was honest. He could even be helpful considering his job was to be a living encyclopedia of information from beyond the pale. He has always been an asset if you can wake him up from his days long naps.

****

"You sleep all the time." Raven complained.

The Titans were here this time. They needed something from Danny. Something about having to seal a threat away.

"Just death being shy." Danny mumbled curling up on his raised platform. "Now go away."

Raven pulled out a smudge stick of white sage when Nightwing silently held up a hand to stop her.

"Phantom, look we need your help. This issue needs your assistance. We just want info on how to seal this threat properly." Nightwing said.

"Ask Constantine."Danny whined back as he shuffled deeper into his blanket cocoon.

"Unfortunately he can't help. This is Darkseid—"

"WHERE IS HE?"

Immediately he was wide awake. You see there are few things to stir Phantom to his full attention. He isn't inactive out of pure laziness. He lets the hero do their thing and he helps when he thinks it's appropriate. But he will not let anything or anyone harm the planet

*****

"He really doesn't like people," Impulse whispered to Aqualad.

"I still don't understand how the Justice League managed to get in contact with him let alone sign a contract with him. " Aqualad answered.

"Flash said he was pretty easy to convince. Hell he said that Phantom was so docile he let Wonder Woman carry him around. Now he'll practically snap of your hand if you touch him."

"Emm...think about it he must have just been really weak back then. If he was injured badly enough maybe he—"

"Stop talking."

*****

"I still don't trust you. What is your game?" Raven said sternly.

A being with origins like Phantom couldn't really be helping them out of the kindness of his heart. What did he gain from this contract.

"You assume you are worth games."

"Were you sent by my father?"

"Your father, Trigon? That nuisance? A petty demon like that having any say over me? I'd crush him if I ever saw him. He claims to have conquered a billion worlds. That alone makes me want to destroy him. No one OWNS a world. If anything I own all worlds. No one touches my universe, all universes are mine. And if people would just stop touching my stuff I wouldn't be here." Phantom growled furiously.

"So you are just like him." Raven hissed in anger.

"Like I said. I own it. It is my domain. My realm. So no one can destroy it. No one can control it. I make it. Every star, every planet, every person is a product of chaos. It is the universal law. I keep my chaos in check. Trigon, Darkseid, Anti-Monitor—I don't care. If they touch what is mine I will destroy them."

"Anti-Monitor?"

Phantom curled his lip in anger then relaxed.

"He is someone you don't need to be concerned about. Not anymore." Phantom sighed. "Just know; I don't care what you think of me. I only care about keeping things the way they should be. I'd prefer if you didn't trust me."

Raven narrowed her eyes in thought before she relaxed. Then a small smile appeared on her lips.

"No. I think I can trust you."

Phantom immediately frowned. This wasn't the response he wanted.

"I think you are doing this on purpose. I think you want us to dislike you." Raven teased "Phantom do you perhaps have a heart?"

Phantom just sighed, his cheeks were greenish hue. He was blushing. Then went back to his dais to sleep.

****

Phantom was certainly a prickly guy. He was sweet deep down. Everyone could tell after a while. It didn't help that Wonder Woman always gave as good as she got.

"Answer the question Phantom. No cryptic riddles either." She said climbing the dias.

Phantom scrambled to escape as she grabbed him by the ankle and held him upside down.

"That's not fair! Kronos said I didn't have to answer this one. I have permission to tell you wherever I feel like."

"Oh? Then how about not having snacks on your offering plate? We'll burn nothing but vegetables until you tell me."

"How dare you! That's child abuse. You'll be starving me."

"You don't even need to eat."

"I still taste everything you burn. That's force-feeding. That's bad too."

"Just tell me!"

"Fine!" Phantom grumbled "Trevor Barnes...didn't pass over yet. He waits for you in the realms between. You shouldn't know that though. He doesn't want you to know."

"Why wouldn't he—"

"Because he wants you to live for yourself. He wants you to love again. You have a long life ahead of you and he didn't want to hold you back with his memory. Although he contradicted himself because he still wants you to think of him fondly."

Phantom phased through Diana's grasp and retreated to his lair.

****

Phantom was like a stray cat or maybe a spoiled one. He was wary of most people.

But even the most moody cat likes at least one person.

"Phantom I—"

"What do you need?"

Tim had entered the chamber only half expecting Phantom to be awake. Though Phantom was always awake when Tim entered. He guessed he was lucky since he didn't have talk to empty space.

"Eh, nothing. I got put on sacrifice duty. I brought some Bat Burger and cookies from home. I'm warning you now that Wonder Woman said you have to eat a serving of vegetables. So I'm burning them first." Tim placed the steamed vegetables on the offering plate and before he tossed them into the green fire he felt the cold hand of Phantom wrap around him.

"Don't." He said softly.

"It's just broccoli and cauliflower," Tim said still putting it on the electrum disk.

"Don't wanna," Phantom whined petulantly holding Tim in place. His head buried in his shoulder.

"You big baby." Tim sighed.

If anyone saw this interaction they'd be disgusted. The oh-so-great and moody god is l acting like a soft and pitiful little guy. Phantom seemed to have such a unique fascination with Red Robin. To the point he acts completely different if Tim was in the room.

"Two-faced." Kon mumbled as he watched Phantom readily answered Red Robin's every question without complaint.

"He's always like that," Tim said afterward " It's probably because I was the one to help form the contract with him when he was summoned here. The League treated him like a threat when it wasn't his fault he was here. He just wants to keep his distance but he is the same age as us."

"He is?" Kon asked astonished.

[ghostedgwen]

under that attitude | j.potter

note : I'll have you know it was very funny to take breaks from writing this to create rollercoasters on my roblox theme park tycoon that I managed on the side, I cannot just do one thing lately - at least it was productive

warnings : some angst and a lot of overthinking, pining, misunderstandings (only a bit), two dumb idiots avoiding their feelings, idiots in love, a whole lot of fluff despite the denial

You were always good at keeping secrets - especially the one about your Legilimency. No one could know, because you didn’t have a solid prediction of how the wizarding world would react to that information. But everything changes the day you hear the truth behind his insults - the way his heart stutters when you argue, the desperate, half-terrified way he wants you. 4.9k words

. . . Like, I want you, bless my soul, and I ain't gotta tell him. I think he knows.

Like how most depressing things are, it was worse at night.

The castle breathed in the dark - long, slow sighs that rattled through stone and bone alike - and it was then, in the hush between curfew and dawn, that the voices were loudest. Not aloud. Never aloud. In your head. Flickering, always uninvited.

You leaned against the cold wall outside the Slytherin common room, your head tipped back, eyes closed. The torches burned low, sputtering against damp stone. Somewhere down the passage, you could hear the slow drip of water, the groan of ancient pipes. Familiar sounds.

The other ones - the ones that weren't supposed to exist - you kept locked tight behind your ribs.

You hadn't meant to become a Legilimens. Hadn't studied it, hadn't even known the word when it first happened. It had just. . . started. It started as barely audible whispers at first. At eleven years old, you'd thought everyone heard them - snatches of feeling, flickers of thought that didn't belong to you.

It wasn't until second year, during a Charms duel, that you'd understood: when your opponent raised her wand and spat a hex - and you had already known she was going to - because you had heard her panicked mind scream "Left - aim for her left!" before she ever moved.

You’d dodged without thinking. You won without even expecting an upper-hand thanks to hearing her thoughts and you’d walked back to the Slytherin huddle under curious eyes, your skin cold with the realization that something was wrong.

There were rules about things like this, from everything you have read so far.

Legilimency was dark magic in most people's eyes - an invasion, a violation - a talent reserved for those who couldn't be trusted. Monsters wore polite faces. Mind readers didn't get second chances.

So you told no one. Not even your dormmates, whose secrets you could taste sometimes when they laughed too hard.

And most days, it was fine. Manageable. If you stayed guarded. If you didn't look too closely. It only slipped when people were loud inside - when their feelings boiled over and the world around you blurred at the edges and suddenly their thoughts weren’t behind their teeth anymore, but bleeding out into yours.

You hadn't meant to overhear anyone.

But here, in the long velvet dark of Hogwarts, the mind had no walls.

Potions was a war zone on a good day. On a bad day, when the Gryffindors shared the clasroom with Slytherins, it was mutually assured destruction. Why the professors allow for this inter-house collaboration was beyond you, if there was a house the snakes mildly respect other than themselves - it would be the Ravenclaws.

You sat at your usual table near the back, carefully slicing a bundle of valerian roots, pretending not to notice James Potter throwing glances your way like hexes. He was always known to prank Slytherins, and you were not straying his radar with how you competed on the pitch often.

You anticipated it but still braced yourself for impact.

"Careful, ____," he drawled loud enough for half the room to hear. "Wouldn’t want you brewing up something - oh, I don't know - illegal."

You didn't even flinch, you saw the insult coming a mile away and barely rolled your eyes at how lame it was.

"Touching concern, Potter," you murmured, not looking up. "Planning to report me to the authorities or just desperate for my attention again?"

A few Gryffindors snickered. Lily Evans shot James a warning glare over her cauldron. He ignored it with practiced ease, an amused smile playing at his lips.

He strode closer, arms folded, the portrait of a boy who’d never been told no. Which is funny given how he's very much like a spoiled pureblood heir, only his robe colours were different. 

You neglected to point out how great he would be in your house, he’d thrive alongside the other snot-nosed pureblood brats.

"Just making sure the dark wizard training program’s running on schedule," he said, smirking. "Be a shame if someone as - what's the term? Frighteningly competent - wasn't putting in the hours."

You looked up then, meeting his gaze coolly and that was when it happened.

The world shifted - not outwardly, not visibly - but inside your head, the way it always did when someone's emotions rose too high and their mind got too loud. And James Potter, his mind was practically screaming at you, demanding to be invaded.

James's smirk stayed fixed on his face, not faltering even when your sharp gaze held his - full of mockery and bravado.

But beneath it, like a crack in the ice, you heard:

"Look at her. Smug. Brilliant. Bloody hell, she's so pretty it’s infuriating."

Your knife slipped, slicing too hard through the root. You caught yourself enough for anyone to not notice the stumble - steady hands with no visible flinch - but your heart jumped painfully against your ribs.

Stay calm.

Stay normal.

Outwardly, you quirked a brow. "If you spent half as much time on your coursework as you do worrying about me, Potter, you might actually pass your exams."

More laughter. A few Gryffindors - Sirius Black among them - hooted loud enough to make Slughorn look up from his desk.

James flushed slightly, his smirk faltering before he masked it with exaggerated affront.

You went back to your valerian root, slicing with vicious precision, pretending your ears weren’t ringing with the echo of his mind’s betrayal.

He hated you, he said. You were rivals, he said.

And yet.

"Bloody hell, she's so pretty it’s infuriating."

You didn't even want to think about what else he might be shouting inside that head of his.

You just had to survive the rest of class without cracking first.

The library was supposed to be a safe place - for you. Just you and the books and the quietness, somehow people's thoughts are quieter here. They get too focused that your abilities were not being demanded by their thoughts.

Low voices, scratching quills, sound of parchment - no loud Gryffindor boys itching for a fight. No accidental mind-reading incidents. Just quiet.

Or it should have been.

You hunched over a thick tome on advanced defensive charms, trying and pathetically failing to focus. The words blurred, your mind replaying Potions over and over.

'Look at her. Smug. Brilliant. Bloody hell, she's so pretty it’s infuriating.'

You shook your head sharply.

"No," you muttered under your breath. "No way."

Maybe you'd misheard. There was absolutely no way, the lack of sleep from slaving over N.E.W.T.s and the nearing Gryffindor vs Slytherin Quidditch match was getting to you, taking its toll. You convince yourself that was all.

Maybe James Potter didn't actually think you were. . . that.

You sank lower in your seat, dragging a hand across your face. 

You had rules about this. You never took strong flashes from someone and assumed they were true. Minds were messy, complicated things. Thoughts didn't always mean anything.

Still. You started noticing it.

The next day in Charms, you caught James looking at you across the room, chin propped on his hand, staring. When you met his gaze, he immediately dropped a book on the floor and made a big show of retrieving it.

Later, walking down the corridor between classes, you heard him before you saw him - laughing too loudly with Sirius, knocking shoulders with Peter Pettigrew, and the second he spotted you, his whole posture changed. Straighter. And then, predictably, he opened his mouth.

"Watch it, snake," he called, as you passed.

You rolled your eyes and kept walking, but your fingers twitched at your sides. Because even though his words were full of spite, his mind had been humming loud enough to burn:

"There she is. Merlin, she’s - "

You cut yourself off before the thought fully formed. You didn't want to know.

James Potter was many things - loud, insufferable, reckless - but he couldn't actually like you.

Could he?

You buried yourself deeper into your books, trying to drown out the noise - both outside and inside your head.

But the thing about secrets was: they had a way of refusing to stay quiet for long.

The air still smelled like grass and almost-rain when you cut across the pitch, broom slung lazily over one shoulder.

You’d only come to watch - Slytherin practice had ended hours ago - but somehow you’d found yourself lingering, pretending to study the Gryffindor formations. Pretending not to watch a certain messy-haired idiot loop the sky like he owned it.

You should have left.

You should have.

Boots scuffed behind you. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

"Well, well, well," James Potter's voice drawled, closer than you expected. "Didn't realize Slytherins were so obsessed with Gryffindor athleticism."

You snorted, not bothering to face him yet. "Don't flatter yourself, Potter. I was studying your mistakes."

He caught up easily, falling into step beside you as you made for the gates. His hair was still damp from flying, sticking to his forehead. There was a smudge of mud across his cheek, and he grinned like he hadn't a care in the world.

"Sure you were, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt - but your heart stuttered.

Because even before it hit you fully, you could feel it - the swell of emotion, bright and reckless, practically leaking out of him.

And then you heard it:

"If she knew what I really thought of her, I'd die. I'd let her hex me if it meant she'd touch me."

You stumbled.

Just a little. Just enough that you hoped he thought you tripped on the uneven ground.

But inside? There is absolute chaos brewing in you.

You recovered quickly, shooting him a scathing look, but James only laughed - like you were the most amusing thing he'd seen all day. Given the track record of his thoughts, there might be some weight to that.

He ruffled his already-ruined hair and gave you a wink that nearly made you want to hex him on principle.

"Careful, snake. Wouldn't want you falling for me."

You scoffed. "As if."

But your mind was spinning.

Because it was real. All of it - the glances, the smirks, the insults that were less venom and more cover.

James Potter didn’t hate you. He hated how much he wanted you.

The night was unbearably still, the only sound the quiet ripple of the Black Lake against the shore. You sat by the water, your knees drawn up to your chest, staring at the moonlight dancing on the surface. Your breath came in slow, measured patterns, but inside, it was chaos.

You liked coming here to help calm yourself - the sound of the soft ripples of water, the loneliness of it all as the moon shone brightly. Finally, it's quiet - truly quiet.

No person around whose privacy you could invade.

You had never wanted to know what others were thinking. You had never asked for this. But it had happened. You were a Legilimens.

And now, you knew too much.

James Potter likes you. He wants you.

The thought shouldn’t have had the power it did. It shouldn’t have twisted inside you like this, leaving you cold and unsettled. But it did. And you hated yourself for it.

You could still hear his voice, taunting you in Potions, the insults he threw your way. "Dark wizard in training," he'd called you, his words sharp and cruel. But it wasn’t his words that hurt, was it? It was the thoughts beneath them.

"Bloody hell, she's gorgeous when she's angry."

You froze, the echo of those words still too fresh, too sharp.

But you couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t let anyone know as it would open a pandora’s box of undesirables you dared not explore outside the wee hours when your head feels like it might cave in on itself.

Legilimency was a curse. It was rare, dangerous, and feared. Wizards who had been caught using it had been cast out, exiled to live on the fringes of society. Families had been ruined, careers destroyed.

And worse - those who could read minds were feared. There were whispers about what those with the power could do with it. How easily they could manipulate people. Control them.

Or perhaps the articles and books you have read were just laying it on very thick, making a spectacle out of something that was out of what society considered ordinary but you couldn’t risk it.

As a Slytherin, it was in your nature to always preserve yourself. Your well-being came first, so every action is well thought-out for your benefit - including hiding your ability away in shame.

People don't take kindly to having their minds read, the mind is one very powerful thing - a vast vault of secrets. You could very well weaponize people’s thoughts and secrets against them.

You’d keep quiet. Keep pretending you didn’t know. Even if it gnawed at you from the inside. Even if every part of you screamed to just tell him, to confront him, to understand what the hell was going on in that arrogant Gryffindor head of his.

You swallowed hard, standing up and brushing your hands off on your robes. The weight of your secret settled like lead in your chest.

You’ll pretend. You’ll keep it secret. And maybe - just maybe - you’ll survive.

Because that is why the hat sorted you to wear green robes, because you were not the type to grab James Potter by his tie to confront him and demand some explanation for the things he thought about you.

You walked back toward the castle, the darkness wrapping around you like a cloak. The sound of your footsteps on the cobblestone echoed in the quiet night.

The cauldron before you is bubbling with that familiar greenish glow, steam rising like smoke. Your fingers are quick, precise - just the right amount of crushed powdered moonstone, stirred counterclockwise, steady, controlled.

James Potter is sitting across from you, as always, only this time he's making a show of it. His elbows are planted on the table, chin in his palm, eyes fixed on you. And that smug expression. The one that makes your insides twist.

"Look at her. She’s so - "

You shut the thought out. It is your absolute misfortune that he settled on sharing a table with you when the Professor demanded some inter-house collaboration for today’s class due to Dumbledore’s insistence.

It doesn’t matter. You have a potion to finish.

But, of course, James never misses an opportunity to make you hate him just a little bit more - if hate is truly what you have been feeling.

“You’re stealing looks at me, _____. Thinking of what unforgivable to use, eh?”

You barely hear the words, your mind too focused on the process in front of you. But you hear the tone. You always hear the tone. And that’s enough.

You don’t look up from your potion, but the words slide out of your mouth like a reflex, sharp as ever. “What’s your problem, Potter? Can’t keep your mouth shut for one class?”

The words are meant to sting, meant to remind him that this rivalry isn’t just one-sided. But as you snap at him, the air thick with the tension of old wounds, your own mind is buzzing with something far worse.

"Merlin, she smells amazing."

The thought - completely out of nowhere slams into your mind like a train. Your hands falter for a second, a stray drop of essence splashing over the edge of your cauldron. You curse under your breath.

But that’s nothing compared to the way your heart jumps in your chest.

"Stop thinking about her like that, Potter. Just focus."

It’s like his voice is in your head - no, not just his voice. It’s his thoughts. His internal struggle, raw and unfiltered. And it’s all about you, as if all the time spent learning at Hogwarts were useless when all he could think about was you, you, you.

You almost choke. Almost spill the entire potion.

But you don’t. You manage to keep your face cool, eyes fixed on your cauldron. You won’t let him see the effect he’s having on you.

James doesn’t see the way you flinch, the way you want to scream and laugh all at once. He doesn’t know that you can hear every stupid, misguided thought racing through his head.

He’s still talking, probably making fun of you, probably insulting your potion-making technique. But inside, it’s all just a blur of "please don’t notice", how good you smell and "how is she this good at everything?"

You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep pretending you hate him, when his equally-annoying voice spouted compliments and confessions in your head. Like he was right by your ear screaming them.

But you have to. Because you know. You know what he’s thinking. What he really thinks about you. And it’s driving you mad - as much as he is driving himself mad.

"She’s making it look so easy. Stop it, James."

You don’t flinch this time. You just keep your hands steady, your face calm, pretending like none of it’s happening. Pretending like the weight of his thoughts isn’t burning through your skin, making you want to dunk your head into the boiling cauldron.

It’s maddening. And you’re beginning to wonder how much longer you can keep pretending you don’t know.

The Quidditch pitch was alive with energy, the roar of the crowd drowning out all other sounds. Gryffindor versus Slytherin - the match everyone was waiting for, one that had your Quidditch captain on everyone’s rears all semester.

The teams soared high, the Quaffle exchanged between players as they raced towards the goalposts. It was fast, furious, and wildly competitive.

You gripped your broom tightly, eyes locked on the Quaffle as you swerved past a Bludger. You were focused, focused enough that you could almost tune out everything else - everything, except for him.

Merlin, despite the heat and chaos of the match, you could still hear him through them with how absolutely loud he was as if he was projecting his thoughts to you on purpose.

James Potter, the Gryffindor starchaser, was on the opposite team. The moment you locked eyes, he flashed that insufferable grin, like he’d already won. He was always cocky, always loud. But this time, it felt different. There was something in the way he was watching you.

"Watch out, snake!" he shouted, a taunt just loud enough for everyone to hear as you flew past him.

You didn't flinch, too used to the hostility. Instead, you focused on the Quaffle, your eyes scanning for an opening. You threw it, perfect precision, straight through the left hoop. Score. The crowd erupted into cheers, but the sound felt distant compared to the pounding in your ears.

But there it was again. His voice. Not in the air, but inside your head.

"She’s so good at this. Bloody hell, how does she do that?" James’ thoughts interrupted everything, like a crashing wave. "She moves like - like she was born to fly. Makes me want to just - "

You clenched your jaw, trying to force the thoughts out of your head. This was bad. So bad. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t block out the next wave of thoughts that flooded your mind.

"I want to snog her senseless."

It hit you like a jolt to the chest. You had to swallow the sudden rush of heat in your throat. You didn’t dare look at him, not with the intensity of what was going on in his head.

The game was still raging on, but your focus was slipping. You were just trying to keep it together, trying to pretend this was normal - that it didn’t matter that James Potter, the James Potter, was thinking about you like that.

He wasn’t just mocking you any more. His admiration was clear, cutting through every insult and joke. It made everything ultimately worse.

You caught another pass - biting the insides of your cheeks, dodging a Bludger, and went for another shot. But now it wasn’t just about the game. It wasn’t about scoring or winning.

It was about trying to control your emotions - when everything in you wanted to break the rules. To reach out. To tell him what you were hearing.

But you couldn’t.

Because the last thing you needed was for him to find out just how much you felt the same.

You were unsure how to process the realization that not only is James Potter besotted with you, but you liked him back. You, the Slytherin chaser who he exchanged insults with on a daily every Potions class was just as besotted.

It is truly a doomed plot written out for some sick god’s entertainment watching you run around like a headless Hippogriff.

So here you are, ending up yet again in the black lake during wee hours, escaping the castle undetected yet again. It is the only place that could truly calm you down when even your own ehad gets too loud.

Unbeknownst to you was the Gryffindor hiding under an invisibility cloak, watching you. His eyes studied your face that seemed much more softer in the dead of night, how all the frown left you and all that remained was your features all bare.

He felt the strong urge to reach out, but that would reveal the fact he followed you. He noticed you leaving the castle on the map, and out of concern snuck out to follow you under the cloak. He knew the dangers outside the castle walls, he just wanted to make sure you were safe.

He did not expect to invade your privacy as you looked out into the lake like a person who had the entire weight of the world. He wonders just what could be going on inside your mind, wishing he could peer into it and maybe, maybe he could take some of that weight off.

He gripped his wand, feeling defeated. 

He can’t even let you know how much he worries about you, how much he wonders about you - because that would be confronting the fact he has fallen for the enemy. That he would be going against his beliefs.

James Potter is an idiot. And he wanted nothing more than to snog you but instead he always resorts to insults, failing to do right by the bravery prided by his house.

You couldn’t hear his thoughts under the cloak, so you remained unaware of the boy watching you with so much love in his eyes that you were two hopeless idiots dancing around it.

“Merlin,” you breathed out exasperatedly. James Potter is not someone to lose sleep over, you knew that much should be true but nothing is working. No essay on Ancient Runes could distract you enough.

The school year was nearing its end. Despite yourself, you still managed to dodge out of confronting your feelings for one annoyingly-persistent Gryffindor and made it through passing your N.E.W.T.s with flying colours.

You had a decent set of “O” and “E” from your results, not getting anything less than Exceeding Expectations. Your parents are satisfied, not that you have ever failed them. Being a Slytherin is basically being bred for perfection.

Your academics and pureblood duties were already weighing on you but then - 

“Oi, snake!” right.

James Potter is that one itch you can’t quite scratch enough to get rid of. A very handsome itch with a perfect set of teeth, that is. 

“Sod off, Potter,” you roll your eyes as if following a perfected script by now, “I have better shit to do than deal with your childish antics.”

He frowned, something about the way you said it alerted him. There was no bite from that, all he heard was the exhaust from your voice as if you had forced those words out of you. He wanted to ask if you were okay, he thought it.

Before he could ask, you already gave an answer.

“I’m bloody fine,” you scoff. “Since when did you care?”

His frown deepened, impossibly so. He hadn’t asked it yet. You heard his confused pool of thoughts and your mistake began to dawn on you, you look at him, panicked and backed away before he could get another word out.

He must have called out your name, you weren’t sure. So you just made a run for it to avoid whatever he was about to say. 

He ran after you, not bothering to entertain Sirius’ confused inquiry as he watched his best mate chase after a Slytherin. He didn’t think it was anything James needed backup with so he only watched, nudging Remus next to him who also watched.

“What do you think that’s about?” Sirius asked, face unreadable.

Remus let out an amused chuckle. “That, mate, is young love blossoming.”

Sirius gagged, which was the reaction Remus anticipated, wording his phrase that way. “Prongs and that snake?”

“Blimey, you are bloody clueless.”

James had managed to catch up to you before you could turn and see the dungeons common room. Grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you back so you could face him, he called out your name again but your heart was too loud.

“Can you stop running away?” he asked, barely raising his voice. “What’s wrong?”

You turn at him, glaring. Tugging at your wrist to free it but he was not letting you go, you let out an exhausted groan and you only paused when a look of worry painted itself over his features as he watch you struggle out of his grasp.

“____?” he called out, his voice impossibly soft when saying your name that it almost made your knees buckle.

You blink at me. “Say you hate me,” you tell him and you wanted so badly for it to also be echoed in his head.

“What?” he couldn’t explain your actions and it was worrying him beyond belief. You could almost feel your eye twitch at him.

“Say you hate me,” you tug at your wrist, “and mean it, Potter. Fucking say you hate my guts, and also think it in that thick skull of yours.”

“Merlin, ____,” James sounded desperate. “What is going on with you? Lost your wits after N.E.W.T.s?”

You felt unbelievably angry at this moment but it was more directed at yourself than him. Though he thought it was aimed at him, so he threaded carefully. Slowly letting go of your wrist and it dropped limply at your side.

“Yeah, Potter, totally went nuts after the exams so I’m demanding you express your hatred for me,” you remark sarcastically, he did not appreciate it one bit. “Just say it.”

“No,” James replied right away sternly. “You are losing it.”

“How can I not?” You point angrily at him.

“____ - “

“You say one thing and you think another,” there was no going back now as the tears welled up in your eyes, all his confusion left him and all that was left was worry. “I can hear you, your thoughts.”

All the words he knew left him. Jaw slackened, he remained standing in front of you, unable to say anything. All this time, you heard him - how? That doesn’t really matter, his head is now replaying every thought he had of you.

Fucking hell.

Fucking mumbling, bloody hell.

“I didn’t mean to, I know it’s your privacy and I wasn’t going to - “ you cast your eyes down, afraid to see how disgusted he’d look when he realizes what you were confessing. “I couldn’t control it.”

James allowed a beat to pass, just a pregnant pause between you two as the hall remained empty, much to both of your delights. Then finally, he found his voice. He cleared his throat, afraid his voice would crack.

“You mean - you’ve heard all my thoughts about you.”

You managed to smile despite the tension, “Yes, including wanting to snog me senseless,” you saw the smile tug at his lips. You still refused to meet his eyes, “Your mind is very loud. I couldn’t shut it out even if I wanted to.”

James surprised you by what he did next - crossing the gap between you two which you had expected to keep growing until he was impossibly out of reach. Instead he closed in on you, capturing your lips in his and he did right by his words - 

You felt like he was stealing every breath away with how he kissed you like it could explain everything away. You kissed him back, finally allowing yourself to do one brave thing and confront your feelings instead of swallowing it all down.

His arm wrapped around your middle to pull you impossibly closer as he continued making your head lighter and lighter and only when you tapped in surrender did he pull away. You were heaving, breathless as you eyed him all bewildered.

“You -”

James Potter managed a smirk with swollen lips. “Snogged you senseless, didn’t I?”

“You twat.”

end. masterlist

[mallory524]

a bunch of teenagers

bob x reader

(she/her)

pictures from pinterest

summary- Bob has really started to like you, but he assumes you don’t feel the same way about him. You do though, and everyone seems to know that except Bob… and apparently also Walker, who really thought he had a chance

warnings- thunderbolts* spoilers kinda, thunderbolts being roomies and hanging out yayy, pining, slight jealousy, bob not feeling very confident :( small mention of void stuff, slightly suggestive mention, john walker likes you and of course that goes absolutely nowhere, bucky is getting too old for this foolishness, hand holding, fluff

word count- 1443

notes- i will write for any of the thunderbolts, you guys, the obsession has reallyyy set in

The view of the sunset from the Watchtower is a beautiful backdrop for an already nice evening with the group. You’re all sitting around, waiting for Bucky to come back with food for everyone. Alexei is telling some awfully embarrassing childhood story about Yelena, who keeps trying to cut him off mid-story. "No listen, I was a small child-"

Bob is listening and occasionally laughing, but he’s focusing on you more than he’s focusing on the story. You’re sitting right next to Alexei and trying really hard not to laugh at his story (for Yelena’s sake) but occasionally you cover your face as your whole body shakes with laughter. Bob loves it. He loves seeing you smile. He feels like he’s being weird so he looks away, but he quickly notices that he’s not the only one looking at you.

Walker, who’s sitting right across from him, keeps glancing your way, too. Bob’s never considered before that Walker would like you, but it's not surprising. Of course he would. You’re so funny and smart and you’re tough, but you can also be so kind and, of course, you’re absolutely beautiful... Walker would have to be so dumb to not to see all of that, but it doesn’t mean that Bob approves of this at all.

He doesn’t think Walker is right for you, and he's never considered that you might see Walker that way, but now the idea is in his head and he hates it.

Walker can be a real jerk, (and of course he’s got some rage issues), but he is good looking, and he’s actually able to help on missions. Bob has to stay back most of the time. Plus, sometimes Walker can be pleasant. Sometimes.

Walker also doesn’t risk showing you your most awful traumatic memories every time you touch. Bob’s mostly got it under control now, but it doesn’t matter because now he’s got the mental image of you and Walker touching and that makes him feel nauseous. The idea of you and Walker-

He doesn’t realize he’s been intensely staring down Walker until he looks up at Bob with the most confused look on his face and mouths “what??”.

Even the mere idea of something happening between you and Walker is bothering him, and he can't get it out of his head. I don't know why I'm upset. It's not like I ever had a chance.

After dinner, everyone starts to split up and do their own thing around the tower for the rest of the night. Of course, no one bothered to clean up after themselves, so you take it upon yourself. Bob walks over and hands you another dirty plate. “Sorry”, he says with a shy little laugh.

“Aww dang", you say with a chuckle, "Thanks for actually handing me your dishes, though. Ava left hers on the floor”, and the two of you quietly snicker.

Bob awkwardly fiddles with random things on the counter, as if one of them will give him another excuse to stay there and keep talking to you. You suspect that's what he's doing, but you never know exactly what's going on in his head. Whatever he's doing, it's endearing. Although, you find everything about him endearing: his smile, his little laugh he does every time he's nervous, his messy curls that are starting to fall over his eyes...

You realize neither of you have said anything in a while. "Hey, how are you feeling tonight? You've been extra quiet", you tell him with a sweet smile.

Bob panics, "No, what? I'm fine. Um. I'm just tired, that's what it is", and he smiles at you, but then the direct eye contact is a little too much for him and he redirects his smile to the tile floor.

"Okay, just checking", You aren't sure if you believe him, but you're not going to push it. "Hey, did you see that video where-", and you start talking about something else.

Yelena walks back into the room to grab her phone, and she smiles and rolls her eyes when she sees you happily talking and laughing together.

At some point, Walker strolls in and soo casually leans against the counter, (he thinks he's being really cool), and thanks you for cleaning up, completely ignoring Bob, who is standing right there and helping clean up, too. Bob glances at you, trying to see if you act any different when Walker's around.

As Walker steps back into the hallway to go to bed, he stops walking for a second and glances back at you from afar, until a voice totally pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Don’t even think about it”

“Geez Bucky, don’t sneak up on me like that”, Walker says before turning back to look at you and Bob again. “But seriously, do you think I should go for it?”

“No”, Bucky says with no hesitation.

“Well don’t think too hard about it.” Walker responds sarcastically and crosses his arms defensively.

“I’m not just saying this to be disagreeable. Everyone knows she kind of…” Bucky starts to say before trailing off.

“What? What is it?”

Bucky hesitates and then decides Walker isn’t going to let it go. He leans in and quietly says, “Everyone around here kinda thinks she likes Bob.”

He’s dumbfounded. “Bob?? You cannot be serious. There’s no way that-”

“Watch it, John”

“No, you know I love Bob! But come on, don’t you think if I put the idea out there that maybe she’d at least consider it?”

Bucky groans dramatically, “Ughh I do not want to be involved in all this. I’m just letting you know I think you’d be... unsuccessful”, and as Walker rolls his eyes and walks back to his room for the night, Bucky notices that Bob’s down the hall, and has apparently been listening to the entire thing.

Bob quickly walks up to Bucky. “Do you think that’s true? Actually?”, he says in a hushed tone, with what can only be described as big hopeful puppy dog eyes.

Bucky mutters something under his breath about his new team being “a bunch of teenagers” and then turns to face Bob again. “I mean, she hasn’t said anything to me, but it’s pretty clear. Yelena and Ava were talking about this earlier and they think so, too.”

Bob can’t believe this. There’s no way. He doesn't want to get his hopes up, but if 4 of his friends think so, then maybe it really is true?

Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder. “Ask her to get lunch with you or something tomorrow. You can decide for yourself.”

Bob starts to frantically shake his head, “No, no I can’t do that, it would be so embarrassing if she didn’t want to.”

“Come on, man. She’ll want to. You should probably do this soon before Walker beats you to it”, Bucky says with a little laugh.

That was enough to convince him.

The next afternoon, you’ve been training for a bit, and now you’re going over some random important documents the group was sent. You see Bob over at the counter, so you decide to walk over and pour yourself some tea, too.

“Hey, Bob”, you say cheerfully, and he turns to look at you.

“Hi”, and he pours the tea into your mug without you having to ask.

You thank him and then look in his eyes. He’s clearly thinking about something. “Bob?”

“Would you like to go get lunch with me today?”, he says out of nowhere. He says it like he thinks that if he didn’t ask you now, he never would. Which is probably true. Any more time to think about it and he might've convinced himself it was the worst idea ever.

You smile warmly at him. “Yeah I’d love to. What time were you thinking?”

Bob is so caught off guard by your positive response that he almost doesn’t answer. “Uhh, we could go in half an hour. If that works for you, of course.”

“Yeah that works. Thanks Bob!”, you say, and then you gently pat him on the shoulder and leave the room to shower and get changed. Bob stands there for a second, hoping he didn't just imagine all of that.

When the two of you are ready, you slowly take his hand, and he lightly squeezes your hand back and smiles at you.

Over on the couch, Ava smiles, and Bucky pats Walker on the back with no real sympathy. "Told ya".

Walker kind of scoffs, but he can't help but smile just a little as he watches Bob step into the elevator, happily holding your hand.

[ang3ltine]

"𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐬?"- Bucky barnes x former Avenger freader

An unexpected surprise awaits you when Bucky shows up at your house with a group of strangers

a.n - This is just a scenario of what it would be like for the members of the thunderbolts to crash at your place. Also this fic contains spoilers! (Let me know if you want a pt.2!)

Warnings - John Walker, dark humour, mention of injuries, minor cursing, making out and major fluff!!

"You gotta be kidding me, were not seriously bringing Bob with us are we?"

"Look Captain America, if it weren't for Bob we wouldn't have made it out of that death trap of a lab alive!" Yelena replies sternly. "Besides, he seems to have more discipline than you'd ever have."

This seemed to tick John off as the two of them started shouting back and forth, while Bob sat between the two of them awkwardly.

"Ok uhm...can we maybe...not fight?" He mutters under his breath but was completely ignored. Ava rolls her eyes at the childish scene before her and flickers her gaze down towards the nervous man. Silently telling him that it wasn't worth wasting his breath.

Surprisingly enough, he understood rather quickly and kept his mouth shut. Bucky groans in annoyance at the bickering in the backseats, and it didn't help either when a large man was snoring away next to him.

But swiftly brushes it off after pulling into a familiar driveway. He hadn't been back at this house for about a week now, so he was dreading what awaited him when he opened the doors. Especially since he has four other guests with him, who he quite recently found acquaintanceship with just a few days ago.

"Listen up, we're staying at this place for a while until things die down. So please, don't make this harder for me than it already is." Bucky states as the the group follows him down the pathway towards a red brick secluded house that was tucked in a small corner of New York City.

They all exchanged confused looks before reluctantly nodding at the grumpy man, with a few grunts and hushed responses. Honestly they were just really tired and their bodies were sore so there was no use in complaining.

"God - I hope she's in a good mood..." Bucky mumbles before reaching into his pocket to fish out his keys and was about to put it into the keyhole. Only to be interrupted midway as he hears the sound of another car pulling up behind him.

"Bucky honey? Is that you?!"

Everyone turned around at the sudden mention of 'Bucky' and 'honey' in the same sentence. All but Bucky himself as he walks back down the pathway towards you.

"Did I hear that right? There's no way Mr. Congressman would have a girlfriend." Ava whispers to the others as they all watched him walk past the minivan, disappearing from their sight.

There were mixed reactions as they all talked amongst themselves, trying to figure out who you might be.

You were pretty confused as well since there was a dirty minivan parked in your driveway. As soon as you step out of your car to examine the vehicle, you catch a glimpse of a figure in the corner of your eye.

Adrenaline kicked in almost immediately, thinking maybe this was going to be a robbery. I mean you do live in a pretty sketchy neighbourhood so it was possible. The sun was setting so it was pretty difficult to see who it could be, you had your fighting stance ready as the person steps out of the shadows.

"God Bucky! You could've said something instead of sneaking up on me like that!" You yelled and tried calming yourself since your heart was practically hammering against your chest.

"Yeah sorry 'bout that doll, didn't mean to scare you," Bucky drawls as he pulls you into his arm for a warm embrace. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the strong scent of gasoline mixed with his cologne.

There was sand mixed with dirt on his tough leather jacket, but you didn't question it since he had finished a mission. Honestly speaking, you were just glad he was home again.

You then peer over Bucky's shoulder and finally noticed the rugged group of individuals standing in your porch.

They wanted to see what all the fuss was about so they snuck up on the couple and spied on them from behind the van. You were about to open your mouth to say something before spotting a familiar face amongst them.

She had short and slightly messy bob cut and an oddly cute frown on her face. Yelena steps forward hesitantly while examining your face at the same time, seemingly trying to figure out where she had seen you before.

Then it clicks, you were her older sisters best friend. She remembers how kind and comforting you acted towards her whenever she'd come to visit her sister.

You spread open your arms for her and without hesitation, Yelena falls into your embrace.

"Its good to see you 'lena," you murmured into her hair while she smiles at the mention of her nickname.

" 's good to see you too..."

Bucky joins the rest of the group, a small smile tugged at his lips as they all watched the heartwarming scene unfold before them.

He's not sure what waited them past this, but for now, he just wants this disfunctional group of anti-heroes to find some sort of peace while they stayed here.

"Sorry I brought them here on such short notice," Bucky mutters as he leans down to your height when you let the others into your house.

"Ahh it's no biggy. Besides, I'm happy to have more house guests." You quipped while closing the door after Bob awkwardly walks in as the last in line.

Everyone had already made their way down the hall towards the living room to look around. Yelena let's out a long whistle as she checks out the place, to be fair, your house was quite spacious since you got the best place in the neighbourhood thanks to Pepper.

Although she insisted on getting you a penthouse, you turned down the offer.

"What's this?" Alexei asks with curiosity after picking up a delicately crafted box. You ran over to where he was and effortlessly took it from his hands so that he doesn't break it.

"Oh well - it's a gift from a friend. She's gone now...so I like to keep it up on the mantle to remember her by." You say in a hushed tone while you look down at the detailed craftsmanship in your hands.

Alexei knew exactly how you felt, so he placed a large hand on your shoulder and gave you a light squeeze of acknowledgement. "I understand, Alexei has been through much loss just like you."

Thanks to Yelena, you had the privilege of meeting Alexei a few years back when Natasha was still alive. So you were happy to have both of them back in your life.

"Dad, you can stop bothering her now. You've said enough shit already." Yelena groans while dragging Alexei away from you since he was still rambling on about Natasha and how much you reminded him of her.

"Do we have enough space for them?" You felt Bucky's fingers brush against the back of your hand to get your attention since you were still deep in thought.

"Hey...you ok doll?" Bucky asks with a worried tone since you hadn't responded to his previous question. You snap out of your thoughts and look to your left to see Bucky by your side. His brows were furrowed as he brought up his other unoccupied hand to cup your cheek.

"Uh yeah..! I'm fine," you respond with a tight-lipped smile. Bucky had just come back from a mission, so you didn't want him to now worry about you too. He wanted to press on but then thought it would be better if he just let it slide this time.

"Are we sleeping down here?!" Yelena yells from another room down the hall. The rest of you make your way to where Yelena was, she had found one of the guest rooms and was already laying down on the neatly done sheets.

"You could've at least taken a shower before hopping onto the bed," Bucky sighed in disappointment. Yelena's clothes were pretty dirty since they had come back from the desert.

"Oh right! Sorry that was my bad," Yelena responds in a muffled voice as her face was now planted into the plush pillows.

"Its fine, there's extra duvet covers in the storage closet," you say while walking towards the walk-in closet in the room. "Don't worry guys! There's more rooms upstairs."

"Do we have to share? I'm not sure how I'd feel if I have Santa Clause sharing a bed with me." John grunted while crossing his arms. You assumed he was referring to Alexei , which almost made you snort in response.

"I'm serious! Does he not look like the Russian Santa Claus to you?" John carries one while Yelena lets out a coarse laugh from the bed.

"Pfft - sorry John, there's only 3 guest rooms, so you have to pick your roommate wisely." Bob lifts his hand up shyly and clears his throat.

"I wouldn't mind sharing...if that's OK with you?" John thought about it for a moment before giving in. "You know what? Why not?"

"Great! That leaves one more vacant room -" You were cut off by another female voice.

"I'll take it," Ava replies rather quickly. John was about to protest and say that he changed his mind, but Ava gives him a sharp look which made him backdown. You were going to ask for her name, only to be cut off yet again.

"Oh right sorry, the name's Ava," she says plainly while giving you a small smile.

"Uhh OK cool, it's nice to meet you Ava. Let me guess, you also have an incredibly sad back story like the rest of us?"

"Oh God, don't even get me started..."

"Also...what's all this talk about 'thunderbolts'?" You prodded while giving Ava a confused look. Ava curses underneath her breath while the others shout in since that they're not called 'the thunderbolts.'

"Thunderbolts yes!! That's my lovely 'lena's football team name from when she was a child -"

"Dad please stop--!" Yelena groans while trying to get Alexei to stay quiet. It brought a smile to your face to see how liveley your house had become after being alone for a week.

"Alright, is there anyone here who needs medical care?" You asked while handing the new duvet sheets to Yelena.

"I think all of us do," Yelena sighed while clutching her side. She was so excited to finally sleep on a comfortable bed that the adrenaline rush took over, making her forget about the pain.

You nodded before turning back to the group. "Right, who wants to go first?"

Everyone had lined up in the washroom to get themselves checked since it would be easier for you to clean up afterwards.

You were currently bandaging Yelena's arm as she winces slightly. If anything, she had been through the worst due to the others being practically impenetrable.

"Just leave this on for a few weeks and take some painkillers. Trust me, the pain will be gone before you know it."

"Ok, thank you," Yelena exhaled while she got up to let the next person in. John walks into your view as you clean up the area for him to take his seat on the stool. The space was pretty cramped since you chose the guest washroom instead of the large one upstairs.

"Hey John, got any major inuries?" You asked while preparing a wetcloth and some bandages. John stops you midway and he shook his head.

"No not really, just have a few cuts on my face and the side of my head." True enough, he looked like he was perfectly fine except for some cuts and grazes that was scattered across his face.

You almost forgot that he took the super soldier serum back when he was Captain America. It was hard to forgot since you were with Sam and Bucky at the time. You nodded before putting away the bandages and took your seat infront of him. Now that you were face to face with him, you noticed how mature, yet different he looked from before.

"Must've been rough for you, running from the law." You start off by cleaning some of the smaller cuts with some wipes. "Trust me...I would know."

You were referring to the time you were on the run with Steve and the others for two years after freeing Bucky. That was how you two met and became close in Wakanda.

"You have no idea..." John responds with a slight waver in his voice. You choose not to press further and lightly dab the bigger cut on the side of his eyebrow.

Unbeknownst to you, John was silently admiring the way you were taking care of him. He doesn't mean this in a creepy way, rather he's surprised that anyone would show an ounce of care for him due to his character and lack of social awareness.

Bucky, on the other hand, misunderstood the scene completely. He had a glass of water in his hand when he went to check up on you. The water that was already in his mouth almost made him choke as he saw the way John made doe eyes at you.

As much as he wanted to strangle the man on the spot, he waited and observed at the doorframe. A smile threatened to tug at the corner of your lips as you felt the presence of the jealous man boring his eyes at the side of your head.

"Relax hon', John's just being John." Speaking of John, he blinked at you in confusion before looking up to see Bucky shooting bullets at him with his eyes.

"Don't worry, he's not going to do anything." You whispered before placing a clear bandaid on the scar. John didn't know if he felt reassured or threatened, so as soon as you finished, he scrambles to his feet.

Bucky steps aside to let John leave, but not before leaning towards him to say something. John flickers his gaze between you and Bucky before leaving with a terrified look on his face.

"Bucky dear, what did you say to him?" You sighed while placing the remainder of the medical equipment back in the medicine cabinet.

"Oh nothing really, just...gave him a peptalk." Bucky responds with a smug smirk as he walks into the washroom. You raise an eyebrow at him, which prompted Bucky to pull you in close by your waist with his arms.

"I didn't threaten him doll," Bucky drawls while bumping his forehead against yours, letting his hair frame his face. It was slightly damp with clumps of sand still stuck in some places. You'd have to remind him to take a shower later after dinner.

"Uh huh, that's why he left like a pale ghost? Because you gave him a 'peptalk'," you mused while playing with the lose strands of Bucky's hair that fell over his eyes. Bucky chuckles softly before responding.

"Right...just a peptalk." Your breath hitches when he bends down to your height while his hair tickled your nose from a loose strand.

"You know you're a really bad liar, right?" You huffed while the rough pad of Bucky's thumb ran gently across your cheek. Your skin felt soft and warm underneath his touch since the blood had rushed to the surface, painting a soft hue of red across your cheeks.

"So? Is that a bad thing?" Bucky's voice goes an octave lower while he inches closer towards your lips, his breath now heavy against yours. His scent flooded your senses, it was a mixture of his cologne and his natural musk from his skin. He hesitates before flickering his gaze up to you again. Silently begging for your permission.

You pondered for a moment while tapping a finger on your chin. "Hmm, do you really deserve a kiss?"

Bucky tilts his head to the side before giving you a deadpan look. But you knew that he was fighting back a smile, so you were the first to lean in. He did deserve a reward for being the amazing partner that he was. Except, he was too quick for you.

He dips his head low, and presses his slightly chapped lips against yours, practically melting into yours. The kiss was gentle yet full of desire. Head tilting the side, his hot breath mingling with yours as his tongue dragged gently across your bottom lip.

Coaxing you to open your mouth. Your tongue meets his as the hand slips down towards your waist. Pressing his fingers into your supple skin, which will definitely leave marks considering how tight his grip was. Not that he didn't mean to, of course.

"Love you s'much," your voice was barely a whisper as it was all becoming too much for you. Bucky let's out a small chuckle as you began to pepper his face with quick pecks before moving back to his lips.

He could picture his lips were probably now a sugary pink colour due to the lipbalm that you wore. The brand was probably called... Summer Fridays? Or something across that line.

"Love you too angel..." he mumbled against your plush lips.

The couple completely unaware that Yelena, Ava and Bob was spying on them from afar with popcorn in hand.

"Guys...I feel a sneeze coming," Bob whispers towards the two women sitting next to him.

"Cucumber! Cucumber! Cucumber!!" Both Ava and Yelena whisper shouted back and forth hurriedly. But it was no use, the sneeze along with their hushed shouting caught the attention of the couple in the washroom.

Needless to say, they learned their lesson from Bucky after an hour long lecture of why they shouldn't spy on people. That also included the punishment of getting limited screen time on the TV as well as playing video games.

p.s - I really love John's character and I believe he has some depth to him that could be explored more

Taglist: @doodlebob-mp3 @marianastudiesart @ordelixx @starktonyx @hisredheadedgoddess28 @avatarobsessedgirly @perdidosbucky-yyo

[darkredsugarcookie]

Hi!! I’m new here so I’m sorry if I do this wrong. Just want to send some Thunderbolts!Bucky ideas maybe he called his girlfriend (the reader) for backup (maybe she’s a former shield agent) but didn’t share too many info with the group and they all a little surprised to find out he has a girlfriend

Let me know what you think, thanks!

i absolutely LOVE this!!! Ever since I saw Thunderbolts I've been thinking about almost this exact thing and I got another ask for something similar, so here we are! I'm also tempted to make a part two of this but focus on the two of them more and make it a comfort thing to apologize for my shame room fic LOL

love you 3000!

Signed Up For This

Word count: 1,143

As far as the media knew, the two of you were nothing more than acquaintances. 

But it was a bond that had gone back a lifetime, from when the two of you had first met when you were fresh out of escaping the Red Room, to when he was the contact you had made to get a fresh start on life and he was in the process of trying to make amends with his existence, so he had offered to get coffee. “We both need some… new connections,” he had said, offering that awkward smile that you had fallen for almost as quickly as he’d fallen for you. 

It was your idea to keep it a secret. You knew how he felt about weaknesses and you were currently the only one he really had. If anyone knew the truth… God, it terrified him. The idea of losing the one pure and right thing he’d gained in this side of the century drove him into a panic more often than he’d admit. So he was glad you had brought it up, worried you might be offended or think he was ashamed of you.

Which was what made him making you the head of his security when he decided to run for Congress a little out of the blue, but you took it. Any opportunity to be close. Plus… who said sneaking around at work was for teenagers? 

But tonight, you had a different reason for asking to speak to him in private in the middle of the fundraiser gala. You knew that look on his face. That look that said he was plotting when he very much should not have been. 

“What are you thinking?” you asked, peeking around the corner for a moment before your gaze fixed on him again. It was a miracle his hair had stayed in place, but there was a reason he always made you do it for him. “I can see that look.”

“What look?” he replied, that dumb grin you’d fallen for years ago pulling at his mouth. “I’m not thinking.”

“You are such a liar, James Barnes. I can see it. Whatever you’re thinking, leave it alone. We are past our meddling days.”

“I’m not meddling,” he said. 

You tilted your head. “Do not let this stuff with Valentina get personal. You can’t afford to get in trouble with all this.” 

“The politics don’t—”

“I’m not talking about politics,” you said. “I’m talking about you, Buck. We don’t know for sure what’s going on and we can’t act until we do. Otherwise we’ll be in just as much trouble as she is.”

“I talked to her assistant,” Bucky said. 

“Her assistant? Mel?” 

“Yes. She’s on the fence.” 

“Okay. Tell her to call you when she’s made a decision. Don’t make it your job to change her mind,” you said, taking a step closer. He just stood there a moment, looking you over. Not in that ‘get in the office and take off that dress’ kind of way he normally did, but like he was just taking in your existence. “You told me that my job as your security is to keep you safe. But my job as your fiance is to make sure that we’re not making dumb decisions. Let Mel come to you.”

He nodded, reaching for your waist to tug your body closer. Normally you’d pull away in a setting like this, even hidden, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. Not now. Not when you had that feeling in your stomach that something was just off. And that feeling had never led you astray. “I just make your job harder, don’t I?” he said with a small, teasing smile. 

“You do, but I signed up for it,” you replied. 

“I’ll be good,” he said, nodding. “But… Mel’s just a kid. If she needs help—”

“Help her,” I said. “And if she needs more than that, call me.” 

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your mouth. “My best girl,” he whispered. 

“Always.”

And you should’ve known after that conversation that it was only a matter of time. Within thirty-six hours, you were sent a pin drop link to some place in the middle of nowhere and a message that just said “need you.”

You’d tugged on that leather uniform jacket you hadn’t touched in a long time and braided back your hair before pulling up to some abandoned garage in the middle of nowhere, intel in hand. You could hear voices from inside, something about a “Bob” and exclamations of words you hardly understood. 

You shoved through the rusted door, swiping up on the tab in your hands. “She took over the old Avengers tower,” you said, approaching and offering Bucky the tablet. “Heat signatures say she has the place crawling with security and I ran facial rec on the guy she brought in early this morning.”

“So guns blazing is the only way in,” Bucky said, reaching to squeeze your hand in a silent thank you. 

You shrugged your shoulders. “Guess so,” you replied before turning to the abstract group of circus people tied up in front of you. And John. “What the hell happened here? Bucky, I told you to just leave Walker alone, he’s been through enough.”

“Who are you?” the little blonde in black asked. If you squinted, you might recognize her. Like some sort of really distant, childhood memory. 

Bucky blew out a breath before you could answer. “She’s my fiance.”

“Your what?” came from all four of them. 

“He’s married?” the brunette asked. 

“In the process,” I corrected. 

“How did that happen?” Walker muttered. 

“Oh, that is cute!” the large one exclaimed, seeming to be way too happy considering the circumstance.

You glanced at Bucky, your arms folded over your chest. “This is… who was so important?” 

“They’re witnesses,” Bucky said, giving you a look as if to tell you to be kind. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you looked at the others. “Most ragtag team I’ve ever seen,” you said, shaking your head. “What, exactly, is the plan here?”

“Well, originally, they were my witnesses,” Bucky said, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “But now the agenda looks a little different. Take out Val, help Bob. Then we go home.” 

“Bob?” You asked. “Like Robert?” You took the tablet from his hands and swiped it open. “Yeah, he’s a big deal now. If we’re gonna move, we need to do it fast.” You swapped a knowing look with Bucky as he nodded. “I’ll start the car.” 

As you made your way towards the door, you heard the voices behind you. 

“So you’re really not all bite, huh?” one of the girls said. 

“Someone really does have a soft spot.”

“Isn’t that cute."

And despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your lips.

[is-this-murder-ethical]

UPDATE: NEW INFORMATION RECEIVED-

This murder is a gray area! (Lengthy elaboration below cut)

From this new angle I have gained new insight into this murder.

Here we can see that Miku was not completely a passive victim. At the beginning of the clip we can see Miku jumping off a building towards the Sabrinas, firing a gun, but she doesn’t appear to be aiming it at them.

When she lands on the storage container, she puts away her gun and switched to light sticks, which she proceeded to attack a Sabrina with. Now, I’ve never played Fortnite seeing as I am not a middle school boy, so if anyone would be kind enough to elaborate, I would appreciate it. But I presume enough strikes from the light sticks would be fatal.

This complicated things, because if miku was attempting to kill the Sabrina she struck, then that Sabrina, or any of her fellow associated Sabrinas would be able to defend themselves in combat.

However, if we are considering Miku’s weapon to be the light stick, then the attempted murder on Mikus part would be completely ethical. And because Miku followed code, shooting a gun at her no longer is self-defense but bad sportsmanship, making it unethical on the part of the Sabrinas.

But I think it’s important to consider the following factors:

1. The Sabrina she struck actually did switch to what appears to be a melee weapon, if she killed Miku with this then it would be completely ethical.

2. The Sabrina that was struck did not fire upon Miku. But if the shooter was defending her brethren, the attacked Sabrina, it would be ethical. If the correct methods of killing were used.

3. Miku stopped attacking and began to dance… I’m really not even sure what section to look into for this one. I guess she’s not actively trying to murder them?? But I still think if someone starts trying to kill you and then they start emoting randomly you don’t have to stop and wait for them to start fighting you again, so I think it’s probably ok on the Sabrinas’ part.

4. Most importantly, Miku WAS firing a gun, and then proceeded to attack one, it would not be a far stretch to assume that the Sabrinas considered her armed and dangerous, and proceeded to act in self defense under the assumption that Miku was going to fire upon them

Possible:

5. If Miku was attempting to kill the Sabrina she hit it could be disqualified because the Sabrina is with her friends, but I’m giving Miku the benefit of the doubt and saying that the Sabrinas just met.

6. If the Sabrinas don’t know each other very well it also complicates things. There is a Good Samaritan clause, stating that if you see someone who is being killed you can step in. Seeing as you have reason to believe the victim has not committed an offense against the code, you either ethically attack the assailant with a mele weapon or you can POINT a firearm at the as a warning.

6.5. The text says that if the assailant is using a gun then you may use a gun, as the ethical laws do not apply if you are defending yourself (applies to good Samaritans). And it says you can threaten the attacker with a gun no matter their weapon. Now after this, where the text presumably would elaborate upon if you were allowed to fire the guy at attacker wielding a melee weapon, it devolved into a intelligible string of letters and numbers, making it difficult to tell.

7. Lowkey feel like the Sabrina that shot Miku was just shooting Miku bc she wasn’t a Sabrina (would then become gang violence and that’s not allowed)

Given all of the factors and circumstances of the mindset, intention, and knowledge of both Miku, the attacked Sabrina, and the Sabrina to shoot Miku, I have found it too difficult to place a ruling at this time.

If you have any thoughts alert me, I might have a jury decide (tumblr poll)

For now, I’ve got my eye on you Miku and Sabrina. Tread carefully

LMAO THE OTHER PERSPECTIVE

[intoblonde6ftwbbplayers]

Relationship Gets Exposed

Can you do one where reader has this professor that's really mean to her, so after her lectures, she goes to Paige's room, but kk is on live, but everyone can notice something's wrong so paige asked about it then reader says I can't say on live, so then paige asked the room if she should either mute it or end the live, paige, reader and some other people say end it and some says mute so kk mutes it but reader and paige thinks the live is ended. Paige then goes closer to reader as she's telling her story, then like hugs her and pecks her lips, then kk would be like ..." um, guys, we're on live" and PANIC

A/N; I absolutely love this idea omg!! Sorry about making her grandpa sick but just an outlet for some stuff im going through right now anyway hope you all enjoy!!

Exposed

pairings - Paige Bueckers x gf!reader

warnings- none baby angst fluff at the end

not edited sorry

||

You've been dating Paige for a little over a year now. You were a junior and she was a senior and you've been together since last year.

You were always together and anyone with eyes could see how much you were meant for each other even before you started dating.

That being said even though you were both sure in your relationship and that this was it, you haven't told the world yet. Paige wasn't even officially out to the world yet.

Obviously they knew I mean one look at her everyone knows but it wasn't official and you didn't mind and respected the fact she just didn't feel the need to address it and you didn't either

Anytime the team would go on live you would go into friend mode, it wasn't particularly hard considering you had been introduced to the fans long before you and Paiges relationship started.

The whole team loved you and treated you like one of them which you were grateful for because you loved them like family too. Recently you've had a rough couple of weeks with school and family so they've all rallied around you like the found family they are.

You've always liked school. You were never one of those people who hated going to class and actually enjoyed learning and academics. You weren't a teacher pet per say but you enjoyed talking to most of them and ended up getting close to a couple of them in your high school and even college experience

That's not to say you never had some teacher you didn't like or who, no matter how nice you were, didn't like you. You weren't disrespectful but you weren't quiet and you weren't egotistical when it came to voicing your views just a bit opinionated and loud.

That's the main reason some teacher or professors didn't like you but you've never had one hate you until now.

The thing is this particular professor really had it out for you. Every time you would as a question in class he would really with a sigh, eye roll, and a comment about you needing to pay better attention.

Every assignment you turned in was 99% never 100 when others could do less or just the same and receive that grade. It was fine though. You had a 98 in the class overall.

But today you had missed an assignment, you went back home to visit your grandpa who's sick and has recently been getting worse the past couple of weeks.

You missed one assignment in your 2 days at home and stayed after class today practically begging the professor to let you turn it in late.

He made it a big deal and yelled at you while his new lecture class started coming in only embarrassing you further. Making you explain how you went home to see your sick grandfather before he died before almost full lecture hall.

So after that all you wanted to do was lay down and be held by your girlfriend to hopefully drown out the noise of the day.

You didn't ask Paige where she was or if you could come over you just showed up and let yourself in with the spare key like always.

When you opened the door to her room and heard the noise it was your end point. You could barely hear them say hello to you or register the fact that Kk was on live.

Everyone could see the tired way you walked and even the tears starting to form in your eyes that you haven't even realized are there yet.

"Hey you okay should we end the live?" Paige is the first to speak going up to you our of frame and blocking your view of everyone else

She moves to his you and you immediately melt into it letting yourself finally start falling apart. You both stay there for a few seconds while everyone else debates whether to end the live or not.

"Should I end it?" Kk asks the room

a series of yes or maybes follow until Azzi says "Maybe just mute it for now" so thats what Kk does she mutes the live and leave the phone on the dest where its currently propped up facing the rest of the room

You and Paige dont hear this though and assume the live is ended once KK and Azzi move to sit on the edge of the bed waiting to hear what's wrong.

You just let Paige hug you there standing by the bed. "Wanna lay down and tell me what's going on ma?" You just nod in response already calming down by being in her hold

You let her lead you onto the bed where unbeknownst to you guys you were both perfect in frame of the live. You tell all three of them the story of what's been going on the past couple of weeks which isn't new news to Paige but when you get to what happened with you professor they all feel bad for you Azzi even offering to do the assignment for you right now since she has free time and knows you're already swamped with work.

Kk sits there and listens and gives you a hug that you're extremely grateful for.

"Thank you Azzi and thanks Kk" you say as you see Azzi grab her computer from the nightstand start to work on an outline for your assignment and Kk move a bit to help her out a bit.

Paige then leans back against the headboard and pulls you with her. She holds you on top of her and then plants small kisses from your hairline to the tip or your nose then finally on the lips.

Kk and Azzi don't even register it as Paige is such a clingy person in general and with you it's only amplified but suddenly Kk snaps her head in the direction of her phone thats still set up with thousand of people watching your girlfriend comfort you and then kiss you.

Your girlfriend who isn't officially out to the media yet just kissed you in front of thousands of people.

Kk jumps up so fast and grabs her phone and just ends the live.

"Bro Kk tell me that didn't just happen" You say

"Omg guys im so sorry" Kk starts apologizing but before you can say anything you just hear Paige start giggling beneath you

She starts laughing "It's okay for real dont stress bout it. they were gonna find out eventually and that's kinda funny the way you jumped across the room getting to the phone"

Kk and Azzi sigh with relief but you just look down at Paige

"I love you Paige"

"I love you ma" she says kissing you again this time without the cameras

[strawberry-bubblef]

May I request some Malleus x Asian dragon reader? I just think the contrast between a western dragon and an asian dragon is neat

Asian dragon reader x Malleus

I’m not very familiar with Asian dragons, but I did my best to research about them them,sorry if I got anything wrong.Feel free to correct me!

Everyone knows who Malleus Draconia is.

A prince of thorns, shadowed by stormclouds and legacy, feared and revered in equal measure. The horned fae, the dragon of Diasomnia, heir to a kingdom most only speak of in hushed awe.

And you?

You are something older.

Not feared, not whispered of, revered. A whisper in the wind, a shimmer of scales gliding between the clouds. A celestial serpent, a creature of rain and sky, called by ancient temples and children’s prayers for rain.

You and Malleus are both dragons, yes. But you are night and dawn. Fire and river. Thunder and rain.

You meet at Night Raven College , you, summoned by strange magic you’ve never quite trusted, and Malleus, watching from the shadows with curious green eyes. Perhaps it was fate, perhaps it was the pull of your shared natures. But it doesn’t take long before you’re drawn to each other,not by the ferocity of your power, but by the loneliness beneath it.

And now?

Now, he rests his head on your shoulder as you both sit in the spires of Diasomnia’s tallest tower, silent save for the quiet wind brushing against your horns.

"You’re warm tonight," you murmur.

He huffs a laugh. "You always say that. You’re the one who's cold like cloudwater."

You turn your head to look at him, elegant, regal. His eyes glow faintly in the darkness, but they soften when he gazes at you.

“You burn like wildfire,” you say. “I glide like mist. You were raised to cast shadows. I was raised to clear skies.”

And he smiles at that, not the polite prince’s smile, but the one only you get to see. Soft. Secret. Full of something that borders reverence.

“Opposites,” he says. “Yet here we are.”

It’s not always easy.

There are moments when he rages,when centuries of solitude and misunderstanding claw at him like ghosts. When his temper crackles in the air and the world remembers why fae are feared.

But you, ancient and serene, don’t flinch.

Instead, you wrap yourself around him, coils and breath and calm. You press your forehead to his and whisper, “Storms pass. They always do.”

He clings to your voice like it’s a prayer.

And there are times you falter, too. When you’re lost in memories of temples long crumbled, of people who once knelt to offer offerings.You wonder if you’re still needed. Still wanted.

“Your divinity never needed belief,” Malleus says one night, when he finds you staring at the sky with distant eyes. “You shine, whether anyone is watching or not.”

He brushes your cheek with the back of his hand, and you lean into it like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered.

“You found me,” you whisper. “When I thought I’d drift forever.”

In your dragon forms, the difference is even starker.

He is massive, winged and imposing, fire and smoke and ancient wrath.

You are long and serpentine, without wings, moving through air as if it’s water, trailing stars with every movement.

When you fly together, you are yin and yang,the sky splits with thunder and clears behind you with rainbows. Watching you together is like witnessing the balance of nature itself. Malleus, fierce and quiet. You, gentle and eternal.

He tells you stories of Briar Valley. You tell him tales from the clouds, of mountains that cry, of dragons who live in the rivers and whisper to fishermen. He listens as though hearing stories from another world.

And when you return home together,to your ancestral temple, deep in a bamboo forest few mortals find,he bows before the great stone gate. Not out of obligation, but because he knows what you are.

“I do not kneel easily,” he says, voice low, “but your roots demand reverence.”

You lead him inside, your form shimmering under moonlight, and the old spirits watch. They whisper of harmony. Of balance.

Of a future forged from thunder and mist.

In quiet moments, he holds your hand and traces the long curve of your claws.

“In another universe” he says, “we might have been enemies.”

You shake your head, resting your forehead against his. “In every universe, I would have found you.”

He believes you.

Because the contrast between you is not what divides, it’s what binds.

You are not two halves of a coin, nor two sides of a blade.

You are sky and earth. River and fire.

And where you meet, something holy grows.

English is not my first language !

[thbbie]

·˚ ༘ your boyfriend knows you like his hands but with his gloves on? oh you seem to have fallen so far in love

sleek black rubber gloves cover his strong though endlessly beautiful hands, they fit so well. every soft protruding vein pushing against the stretched rubber.

"theree you go. taking my fingers soo well aren't you doll."

"feels too good? yea? i know it does but my girl can handle this much can't she? don't disappoint me now baby, you're doing so good f'me"

"filthy girll~ making a mess all over my desk, all over my hands. you're so messy."

"ahah, don't be getting shy on me now, show me, spread your slutty pussy for me and show me how messy you are for me. go on"

"you wanna cum beautiful ? yea? how bad. bad enough to beg me for it?"

"shhh sh, come on now, is this not what you wanted? to cum? one more, one more, you can do it, t'll feel so good."

you melt away, every coherent thought leaving you at the sharp snap of his wrist. plunging his fingers into you repeatedly.

in and out in and out in and out

it's addicting, you've cum more times than you could count, become a drippy droopy version of yourself that cannot help but moan and whine at your loving boyfriends hands on your body.

he shush you lowly, slowly pulling his fingers out of you and kissing away your tears. his poor baby gone dumb from feeling too good. soft praises spill from his mouth, telling you how good you are for him, how he loves and cherishs you more than anything. moving from in between your cramping legs spread impossibly wide to your side, pulling you away from the mess you made and into himself, to rest against his body.

he leans back in his desk chair to make space for you, making sure you're comfortable in his lap as he cradles you gently, your head reacting against his warm chest.

when your breathing slows and erratic heart calms he brings the brings the rubber clad fingers that were stuffed deep in your cunt to his lips, licking a broad strip as you watch him, collecting your essence on his tongue, his eyes rolled back at the taste of you and a deep groan comes from his throat. your boyfriend then brings them down to your lips, "taste yourself for me baby — the sweetest thing in the world is all for me. aren't i one selfish bastard."

with his fingers stuffed in your mouth you nod eagerly at his words, so so selfish so mean. he cannot help laughing at you, your cute teary eyes looking up at him, oh you look so cute.

"the sweetest girl and her selfish boyfriend~ it has a ring to it don't you think darling? i like it soo much sweet girl"

you can't protest his teasing, a warm blush painting your heated cheeks, your brows furrowing as you hum a low muffled "hmphn" around his fingers

idk who im thinking for this one, so just imagine your favourites ♡

[littlelamy]

            you’d spent all day cleaning the baseboards in the upstairs guest bathroom—on your knees, humming disney songs, hair tied up in one of those giant puffy scrunchies that matched your apron. the idea of putting on makeup, or heels, or trying to sit still for hours at a place that used real cloth napkins and tiny forks for god-knows-what? it made your tummy feel twisty but a little excited.

but rafe had asked; in that voice that didn’t really ask, more like a direct demand. he’d leaned against the pantry door that afternoon, arms crossed, one brow raised while you tried to reach the top shelf for a cake plate.

“you do anything tonight?”

you blinked. “me?”

“no, the other barefoot girl in the house.”

you giggled, clutching the plate. “no plans, mister rafe. just a bath and maybe folding towels. i was gonna reorganize the drawer where we keep the twisty ties—”

“stop.” his mouth twitched. “you’re coming to dinner.. wear something cute.”

“oh! um—okay! i can be cute! i mean i am cute—i’ll be cuter. where are we going? will there be breadsticks?”

“get in the car by seven,” he said, already walking off. “remember to wear heels, baby.”

and now here you are. squeezed into the passenger seat of his sleek black car, nerves curled tight in your belly like a sleepy kitten. your dress was short, pink, and so shiny. your shoes are taller than you're used to. your lipstick keeps sticking to your teeth because you picked a new gloss called 'strawberry fizz' and maybe it’s too much, but rafe had looked at you when you came down the stairs and said “fuck, you look edible,” so you didn’t dare change.

the restaurant was fancy. all soft jazz and dim lights, plates that look more like art than food. rafe’s friends are already there, guys who look like rafe but definietly weren't as cute as him. you sit beside him, hands folded in your lap, smiling sweet as sugar while they talk about things you don’t understand—hedge funds? market something?

but rafe’s hand stays on your thigh, grounding you through all this real estate nonsense. his thumb strokes gentle circles into your skin, and every time you start to drift into a cloud of fizzy nothing, he squeezes just a little. like he was saying 'stay with me, bunny.'

as you begin to dream about a furture with rafe, you hear a loud, obnoxious laugh. “wait—no fucking way.”

your head turns. the guy was sitting at the bar—a group of three, all wearing button-ups, loafers, and a big red face.—and sadly, he’s looking right at you.

you blink as he continues, “bro,” he slaps the guy next to him. “it’s her! it’s fucking her! girls of gulf coast, spring 2022! pink heels, yellow lollipop, ass for days? you know—the one in the bunny ears with whipped cream on her tits?”

your stomach drops. even rafe’s hand tenses on your leg.

you try to smile and laugh. try to pretend you didn’t hear that. but you can feel heat crawling up your neck, all the way to your ears. oh no. oh no.

you haven’t heard that name in months or seen those photos since you stuffed the sample polaroids into a shoebox and slid them under your bed. you weren’t her anymore. you were a house manager. you made jam, organized spice racks, even kissed wheezie on the forehead before school.

but he keeps talking, not reading the room.

“dude, i jerked off to that spread like every night of senior year. girls of gulf coast, man, that issue was legendary.”

the guy next to him whistles. “no shit? that her? y/n something, right?”

you stare at the linen napkin in your lap like it might swallow you whole. your hands shake as you hear one of rafe’s friends laugh, very awkward.

“damn, rafe, you didn’t tell us your girl used to be in magazines.” it’s a joke. it’s all a joke, you think to yourself. well, this joke made you want to melt through the floor.

rafe stands slowly, you could almost see steam coming out of his ears. he turns toward the bar. “come again.”

the guy blinks, grinning. “what?”

“say it one more fuckin' time.” his voice isn’t loud, but it’s sharp which make the whole table go quiet. “you wanna talk about my girl? say it again. real slow so everyone can hear your bitch ass.”

the guy scoffs. “chill, man. it’s a compliment—”

“a better compliment would be you shutting up and mind your own business instead of talkin' about my woman.” his jaw ticks, as you go to hold his arm. fingers caressing his forearm, leading to his hands.

you whisper, “rafe, it’s okay—”

he looks at you and leans close, lips brushing your ear. “you don’t ever say it’s okay for people to talk about you like that.”

“but—”

“baby,” he cups your cheek. thumb brushing the sticky corner of your mouth where your gloss smudged. “you were art..still are.” you blink up at him. “they don’t get to mock art just because they can’t touch it.”

your throat tightens before he turns back to the bar. the guy was already avoiding his eyes now, nervous laugh dying in his throat.

rafe smiles, coldly, “look at her again, and you’ll be drinking out of a straw for a year.”

then he sits, completely casual, like nothing just happened. you’re stunned, staring at him. he could feel your eyes on him making him glance over with a smirk on his face.

“you want to leave?”

you nod, fast. "please." he quickly grabs your hand.

you don’t say a word until you’re back in his car. “i didn’t want you to be mad,” you whisper.

“i’m not mad at you.” you blink, confused. “i’m mad someone thought they could say your name like it was a punchline.”

you sniffle. “it was just a phase. i needed money. and i thought it was fun. i didn’t think anyone would recognize me in the real world.”

he squeezes your hand, reassuringly. “i did.” your head snaps up. “saw the spread. remember thinking, no fucking way someone this pretty’s real. i tore that page out and kept it in my glove box for three months.”

your jaw drops. “you—what?!”

“uh-huh. told myself if i ever met her, i’d marry her.”

you blink fast. “you’re lying.”

he shrugs. “maybe..but why would i?” and then he leans over, presses a kiss to your cheek. “either way, you’re mine now. magazine girl, house manager, whatever. all mine.”

you blush so hard your knees knock. you whisper, “you really think i was pretty?”

he grins, reaching out for you. “baby..you were and are so fuckin’ gorgeous.”'

❤︎ tags below

@rafesbabygirlx @namelesslosers @drewsephrry @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @rafedaddy01 @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @lil-sparklqueen @rafessweetgirl @esquivelbianca @p45510n4f4shi0n @palomavz @cokewithcameron @donaldsonsgirl @yncoded @lilbunnysfics @solaceluna @icaqttt @alphabetically-deranged @bevstofu @wintercrows @emluvsuxo @rafestoothbrush @cadhlabear @st8rkey

[gay-dorito-dust]

bob things because i keep seeing edits of him and joaquin torres.

Bob is very aware of how much stronger then everyone he is, so when he careful with you, making sure to not use more then he needs. He worries that he might accidently hurt you in the process, something he wouldn't forgive himself for nor ask for forgivness from you as he doesn't deserve it. He's so gentle with you that you thought he was handiling glass or porcelain with how he held your arm or holding your hand.

It wasn't in a way where he was under estimating you, but instead in a way where he was still firm with his grip yet was loose enough where you could easily break away from him. You were at the forefront of his mind whenever he does anything that required him in any aspect to touch you, he would much rather put your comfort first and above his own then ever do anything that would cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort.

Even if you did tell him that he didn't have to be so gentle with you, Bob was still going to be gentle with you even when he's on a mission and see you were in danger, quick to act as he moves you out of harms way as his hands anchor you to reality and to him when you looked into his worried eyes. His grip never tightens nor loosens, caressing your shoulders as though he was trying to memorise your warmth and existence into his mind, as though he was silently asking you if you were okay while his eyes scan your figure for harm.

Bob is the type of guy who would read books and get ideas for what he should do for you, things like little notes that he would leave scattered throughout your room within the Watchtower or places he knows you'll visit frequently, placing them in specific spots that only you would go to. These little notes would vary from time to time, some of them would be suggestions of where you two could do when you had the time, or notes where they would be filled with sugary sweet compliements that were enough to make your heart melt and internally swoon.

such examples like; 'i like it when we do our own things in silence, it calms me knowing that we're doing stuff that we love together, where we don't have to rely on words and instead just merely exist in tandem and are at peace with that.'

'you looked tired today, do you want to talk about it? or maybe a nap? you've done pulling your weight today and need rest.'

'thank you for being patient with me, thank you for being a dream come true for me and being such a safehaven where i can be vulnerable and let you in on my biggest worries, where i can lay it all out and you still look at me like that love you have for me never faded. thank you.'

'i didn't know i could fall more then i already have, then i look at you and find a new reason to love you, you make it as easy as breathing or writing a note for you to find later much like this one. :)'

'i wake excited to see you as if i haven't seen you in months, i even fall asleep in hopes of seeing you in my dreams, there's never a day where i don't stop thinking about you and i don't plan on stopping either becuase i never want to forget the best moment of my life; meeting you.'

However if you were to give him notes, he's smiling wide at your words and keeping every single last note in a box under his bed, so when he feels as though he needs a pick me up Bob will go to the box and re-read your notes and feel better by the time he gets to the lastest one you've written him. He treasures every last thign you've given him and isn't willing to let go of them either, for these were his reminders that there was someone for him who saw him in a way he hadn't think to see himself on.

If Bob saw that you were just out of it, or just more silent then usual the he would move over to you and just bring you to rest against against him, smooth his hand over your arm as you pratically cuddle yourself into him. Your head being burried into his neck as he allowed you to take a brief rest from everything, to latch your arms to his waist and keep him close to you while Bob kisses your head and reasuring you that he wasn't going anywhere, not when you were in need of him and holding onto him like he might dissapear.

He was your charging station until you felt better to continue the day ahead, though not before Bob would ask if you were okay in a soft hushed tone before he allowed you to eascape his arms.

Bob finds that his mind becomes clear when he was near you, no worries nor nightmares plauge this man when his head was on your chest with his ear listening to your heart and steady breathing, so he's often wandering off to your room just to silence his mind. He's come to your doorstep so much so that you kept stuff that he left from previous times he came, whether it was a sweater or a blanket, it didn't matter becuase your room had became his second home becuase you were there to comfort and console him.

[strawberrystepmom]

dante x f!reader. established relationship, a minor disagreement that ends up in hurt/comfort. | wc: 1.4k, reading time: ~5 minutes

“I’m coming with you.”

Your remark is firm while you practically chase after Dante who slumps down in the chair behind his desk for the briefest moment, pulling equipment from the drawers of his desk and putting it into his pockets. 

“No, you’re not.”

It irritates you how he won’t even look up, preoccupied with getting out of here. Your jaw slackens, eyes narrowing.

“Why not?”

Now he looks up, his own teeth clenched. 

“Because I’ve said no ten times and meant it every one.” 

He hates fighting with you. In fact, he hates telling you no about anything and you’re all too well aware of it judging by the way you seem to think you can wear his defenses down into a yes right now. 

Disengaging by looking down, he loads a few bullets into his guns which further irritates you. 

There’s no such thing as a truly unexpected job in his line of work. He gets calls at all hours of the day or night sometimes, reporting to wherever he needs to be to take care of business, but you don’t understand why he won’t let you come. It’s midday and he’s clearly playing coy about the threat level of whatever is out there meaning there may be a need for help.

Laughing sarcastically, you stand in place in front of his desk. 

“It amazes me how you are never this serious about a no until it has to do with what I want.”

Whipping his head upward so fast his hair falls out of place against his forehead, the man you love more than any other curls his lip and points all five of his fingers toward you, eyes wide.

“And it amazes me that you’ve never bothered to wonder why I'm so serious about it. How many times have we had this exact conversation?" 

There has never been a time where he’s raised his voice at you and he has no plans of starting now but you are seriously testing his patience. 

You fold your arms across your torso and raise your brows adversarially high. "I wish you’d just admit it’s because you think I'm weak and can't protect myself. Your little liability."

Finally, you push Dante to the point of a frustrated, humorless chuckle punctures the tense air of the room. You flinch in place, averting your eyes from him to other corners of the room that seem a lot easier to look at. Walls don't have eyes that pierce to your very soul the way his are right now, feeling them even if you don't see them.

"Will you please stop thinking the worst about me? I know better than anyone you can take care of yourself." 

He scoffs, another ironic chuckle following it. 

"In fact, this isn’t even about you. Have you ever thought for even a second that I keep you away from my jobs because I don't know what I would do if something happened to you? That nobody does?" 

You look up and he looks directly at you, brows furrowed. 

"Yeah, I've been called out about it before. By Trish and Lady and everyone who has ever seen the way I am when it comes to you." He shakes his head, rising from his seat behind the desk, reaching across it and grabbing your trembling hands. "They’ve all had the same thing to say about how you can't be around because my focus becomes keeping you safe."

He looks away from you, retreating to somewhere distant in his mind. 

"I catch myself thinking about a world without you sometimes and it's dark and heavy and...and I know I couldn't do it if I didn't have you."

"Do what?"

"Any of this.” He waves his hand around the waiting room of Devil May Cry dramatically. “Exist."

"Dante..." 

You click your tongue, chest aching at his words. They’re well meant but even the faintest insinuation of him stumbling into the bad shape he was when you first met makes you feel hollow.

"I mean it, sweetheart. You could come up with a hundred arguments and probably already have but I wish you wouldn't waste your time arguing with me about what the truth is. It’s not that you're weak, it's that I'm weak for you."

Now you feel like a real problem, pouting like a little girl while he airs out the truth. “Stop it.”

“No, you stop. Let me tell you how I feel and maybe, just maybe, actually listen to me for once.”

Pushing your fists against your eyes, you take a deep breath and allow the pressure of your knuckles to keep the levy holding back your tears from breaking. You probably look as pathetic as you feel standing there like this, shoulders slumped inward and breaths coming in staggered pants. 

Merciful man that he is, Dante never lets you suffer for long. 

You hear his footsteps round his desk in the  same pattern you memorized a long time ago, his warm arms coming to cradle you even if you won’t look at him. Your body naturally leans against his chest, fists pressed against his shirt, face hidden. 

“You’ve made me a man, not just someone pretending to be half one.” He unburies your face to kiss the tip of your nose, pulling you against his chest to bury your head beneath his scruffy chin. “And you’re one thing I wanna keep safe forever because of it. Is that so wrong?”

Shaking your head no, you sigh in lighthearted defeat. How can you put up a fight, especially when he is safely nestling his beating heart in your hand? You protect it, he protects you. 

It’s not all that bad of a deal when you really think about it. 

“You’re starting to give me a stomach ache,” you joke, lifting yourself up on the tips of your toes to kiss him. It’s a little brush of lips against lips, far less searing then how you usually approach. 

Still, it says everything. The pair of you remain locked together - two bodies and one shared soul - refusing to part even to continue the conversation. 

“Sorry for thinking the worst.” 

Your apology is only slightly muffled, mashed between his mouth and yours. He parts his lips to reply but chooses to kiss you instead, tongue dipping between lips he could not successfully exist without. You’ve given his world more than color, you’ve breathed life into every last corner of it. The least he can do is tell you so once in a while. 

Smiling against your lips, he stops for a breath and backs away enough to look down at you. 

“Let me know next time that happens so I can get ahead of it, okay?”  

A lighthearted reminder, sealed with another small kiss. The tension in the room gradually soothes itself, minute by passing minute. The safety of his arms even improves your mood slightly, your fists pressed against the center of his chest rather than over your eyes. 

“Please stay behind and let me come home to you in one piece.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you fight the urge to insist you need to continue fighting for your place in his life. He’s telling you clearly that you’ve earned it. 

“Alright,” you acquiesce, raising yourself up on tippy toes to kiss him again. 

Opening your mouth to continue speaking he shoots you a look, not venomous or dangerous, but serious. He doesn’t wanna argue about this again. 

You lean into him, big eyes staring. “Fine, God, okay. But you need to call me as soon as you’re done because I don’t know what I’d do without you either and cannot think about it so please don’t make me.”

Dante nods, chuckling. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Later on, after you’re less emotional and he’s home safe and sound, you’ll admit he’s right. You’ll mutter against his hair that he’s not merely a good man but the best one for thinking of you the way he does and that you constantly question if you deserve it or not. He’ll whisper to you that nobody has ever deserved it more, rocking you gently until you fall into a fitful sleep and leaving him awake for a little longer. 

Only then will he find himself alone enough to silently thank whatever force brought you, this stubborn, beautiful woman, into his life to save him. He’ll insist to this same force that he’s only making up for lost time by protecting you from danger to begin with. 

It happens every time.

[smellslikemothman]

So the weird thing is that I have a man that amazing. I do so of those things, in part. I do take care of him when he needs it, and will continue to do so throughout our marriage, as needed.

Why?

It's simple: because he does the same for me. Because that's what you do in a relationship, you take care of each other. It's supposed to be a mutual thing, not one-sided.

You can have that deep love and affection and appreciation for someone without being mindless about it. You can do your partner's laundry if it fits in your schedule easier and if you want to. You can be that stay at home spouse if you want to, regardless of gender identity or social "norms."

Key phrasing there.

The main difference between healthy and unhealthy relationships is choice. The choice to change, adapt, leave, etc. Feminism is about choice.

We also need more resources for partners who want to escape from toxic relationships. A lot of people end up staying in bad spots because they gave up their financial freedom and now have nothing. We can bask in the schadenfreude for a moment, but ultimately they are people who deserve help, so those escape resources should be readily available for anyone who needs them because shit happens.

I get it. The far right tells gen z women "hey, this sucks, right? Rent and stress and drama and working 2+ jobs? Terrible. You know what is better? Being who you naturally are. You, as a woman, deserve to be pampered and loved and taken care of. As a natural caregiver, you have a big heart and want to be there for everyone in your life. Well, now you can be, the Natural Way. Those Crazy Feminists (TM) are drowning you in debt and consumerism. You deserve a more natural way of life."

And then they turn around and tell men "men are made to work, and you're doing it! And you're doing such a good job at workmaxing and financemaxing and manmaxing yourself! But you're still struggling because all these Modern Women (TM) refuse to see you for the Adonis you are! You should be the sole breadwinner, and leave behind a legacy of strength and Real Masculinity. And who better to help you leave that legacy than a real, natural woman, one who plans her life around you so you have nothing to worry about once you clock out. It's the Natural Order of things, you deserve it."

And it fucking sucks. That's why the far right has resonated with new adults so damn much. And while most of them will learn with time, many more will suffer from it.

this is getting concerning no i do not want to coddle a man like a child nor do i want him to control me and make all my decisions. have none of you considered maybe a man who is nice to you and treats you well and respects you. just a thought

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae! I hope you are well and having a GREAT DAY I just had an idea for poly!marauders for how the boys would react to her using her safe word when they’re experimenting 🧐

Hi lovely, hope you're having a great day too! I didn't have her safeword in the usual sense but I hope this still captures the vibe you wanted <3

cw: smut mdni, some (relatively tame) bdsm, reader who doesn't like being tied up

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

It’s a bit uncomfortable, but you think it’s supposed to be. You like when your boyfriends put your wrists above your head or behind your back, usually. It kicks your heartbeat up in a way that’s fun for you. You were a strong supporter of Sirius’ idea to use some other apparatus to bind your hands so that the boys could be using theirs for other things than restraining you. The issue you’re running up against, unfortunately, is that your boyfriends’ hands are usually warm and loving and have a bit of give to them; this rope does not. 

You shift, trying to find a less stifling position for your hands than beneath your tailbone, but Sirius stops you with a touch on your stomach. 

“Easy,” he says, voice breathy both from watching you and from having his cock pumped by Remus. “How’s James supposed to make you feel good if you’re squirming?” 

James makes a low sound into your cunt. You can’t tell if it’s agreement or objection, but it makes your walls clench. He pushes his nose into your clit appreciatively. 

“Can we—” you falter. James slows, listening. “I want to sit up, can we do that?” 

“Yeah,” James says, almost directly into your hole. The vibrations make your breath catch, and he grins, backing away peaceably. “Course we can, angel.” 

“What do you want to do?” asks Remus, also slowing behind James. He uses his free hand to brush a steadying touch over the other boy’s hip. “You feel ready to sit on someone?” 

You nod hesitantly. 

Sirius volunteers himself for the task, giving Remus’ wrist an affectionate squeeze so he lets go. “C’mere, gorgeous.” 

James looks behind at Remus gamely. “Suppose that’s you and me then, lovely.” 

Remus’ cheeks go a lovely pink. He bends to press a brief kiss to James’ shoulder before starting to move again. 

You try not to let yourself become anxious as Sirius helps you maneuver without your hands. You roll from your back up onto your knees, allowing him to nudge your thighs wider to accommodate him as he positions himself beneath you. 

Your boyfriend looks up at you with wicked grey eyes. “Ready to give us another?” 

Your boyfriends had already brought you to orgasm once before binding your hands. You’re still feeling the aftershocks of it, shivers in your legs and sensations somewhere between pain and pleasure shooting through your core when anyone touches your clit. Two orgasms isn’t unheard of for you. You’ve done it only a few times before, though each time it’s been a bit of an overwhelm; you feel nearly blown apart and need extra time to recuperate afterwards. Your boyfriends are always more than willing to accommodate. 

You can feel that second one brewing as you ride Sirius. He holds your hips, guiding them to drive you faster, while your head starts to spin. Your tits feel sore from the bruises and love bites James left on them earlier, the sensation on your clit is too much, and your wrists—you want them out, you want your hands back, you want this awful confined feeling to stop. The next sound that leaves you borders upon a whimper. 

“That feel good, sweetness?” Sirius' thumb strokes your hip. After a pause, he asks, “Can you look at me?”  

It’s then that you realize your eyes are squeezed shut. You open them, your breath caught in your throat. 

Sirius’ gaze is assessing, hesitant, but it’s James who asks, “You okay, angel?” 

You try to hum. It pitches unsteadily. 

Your boyfriends look unsure. Sirius’ grip on your hips has turned more gentle than controlling, and James and Remus have slowed, both watching you from the end of the bed. 

“Do we need to stop?” James asks. 

Your breath whooshes out of you. “Yeah, stop,” you manage. “Stop.” 

“Okay.” Sirius holds your hips, and with a look at James both boys work together to lift you carefully off his cock. You all but fall into Sirius’ arms, trembling. “Good job, baby. You did beautifully, I’m so proud of you.” 

“Can someone untie me?” you ask hoarsely. 

“I’ve got it,” Remus assures you. You feel his warmth at your side. The knots tighten momentarily before he pulls them away. 

“Oh,” James breathes, “sweetheart…” 

You bring your wrists in front of you as soon as you can, shoulders aching. Sirius kisses your head while you burrow your hands under him to hug him back. 

“We’re done,” he promises you. “You did such a good job.” 

“Thank you for telling us.” Remus rubs your back, his warm hand coasting slowly up and down your spine. “Was it too much?”

“Yeah,” you mumble into Sirius’ chest. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for, lovely?” Remus asks calmly. 

“I could’ve gotten there. I was close, I just—it felt like so much—” 

Sirius shushes you. “Hey,” he chides, thumb rubbing your forehead so you look up at him. You find his brows lowered with concern. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t feel like doing, yeah? Ever. Coming again should be fun for you, that’s the point.” 

“And if you aren’t up to it, that’s fine,” James clarifies. “It’s only fun if you’re having fun, right?” You turn your head to the side to see him, nodding. Your boyfriend gives you a tender look, his smile wavering at the edges. “Sweetheart, can we see your hands, please?” 

You take them out from beneath Sirius, confused at the request but caught by surprise at the sight of them. James makes a soft, wounded sound as he takes them gently in his hands. Sirius murmurs a curse and sits up with you in his lap. 

Your wrists are rubbed raw, bracelets of angry skin circling each one and skin splitting in a couple of places. James runs his thumb gently over the palm of your hand, pitying. 

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” he asks softly. 

“I don’t know,” you murmur. 

Remus gives you a slow, evaluative look. “Did you not realize you were rubbing them?” 

You shake your head. 

He rubs your leg. “You didn’t really like being restrained, hm?” 

“I don’t think so,” you admit self-consciously. 

“Good,” Sirius decides. “I’ve just learnt that I don’t like you being restrained, either.” 

Remus lets out an amused exhale through his nose. “I’m sorry, lovely,” he says. “Thank you for telling us when you did. I’m glad we didn’t carry on.” 

You shrink a little. “Really?” 

“Of course, really,” James insists. He brings your hands to his mouth, kissing the hearts of both your palms. “We don’t want you to be in pain, physical or mental or whatever else. You should always stop us.” 

“Okay.” You give him a little smile. “Thanks.” 

“You ready to stand up?” Remus checks in. When you nod, he gets off the bed, prompting you to follow with a touch to your back. “Good. I want to get some cool water on those burns while they’re still fresh.”

[darkmatilda]

𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a trip to the amusement park was supposed to be fun. and fun it was — especially the surprise of running into an old friend, seaver. at least, for spencer. because her appearance makes a certain someone start acting…strangely, casting a tense shadow over the rest of the evening.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, trip to the amusement park with morgan and garcia, reader’s wearing heart-shaped sunglasses for the vibe, ashley seaver (but shes not portrayed as a bitch lmao she doesn’t deserve that) reader adopts some random guy like a stray dog off the street, both of them are jealous idiots like omg shut up and kiss already (they almost do lool)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.5k

𝐚/𝐧: request | no idea why it turned out so long i really enjoyed writing the dialogues here <3 marathon masterlist

"Remind me, babygirl, how did we end up here?" Derek asked, walking to the left of Spencer in a tight gray T-shirt and motorcycle sunglasses perched on his nose.

He was, of course, addressing the two women a few steps ahead of them, who were walking arm in arm and chatting so intently that they hadn’t even noticed how far ahead they had gotten. Only his question pulled them out of the giggling trance they had fallen into. It was impressive how, despite being completely focused on each other, they still managed to weave through the hundreds of people gathered that early evening at the amusement park with a model-like stride.

Penelope turned around over her shoulder, adjusting her ponytail.

"Because I wanted to try something new with you," she announced in a tone full of a certain warning — that she expected nothing from them that day but pure fun and, in the end, a tearful thank you for coming up with the idea to go there. "To plant sweet kisses on the foreheads of your inner children because, no offense, you all deserve it. I'm going to win a giant teddy bear. You, handsome, will have the chance to show off at the High Striker. Spencer...well, I'm sure you'll find something for yourself. Maybe they have a little geography quiz corner for especially naughty kids?"

"But geography quizzes are pure pleasure, why would they be for naughty—"

"And you, gorgeous?" she interrupted, turning to the woman right next to her. "Is there anything you'd like to try?"

Her eyes were hidden behind red heart-shaped sunglasses, but even so, Spencer sensed that her gaze landed on him. It frustrated him internally that he couldn't read her intentions or even the intensity of her look through the dark lenses.

"Run Reid over with a go-kart," she replied without hesitation. "then grab some cotton candy."

He sighed.

"With those sunglasses, I can't tell if you're joking or not, so allow me to just ignore you," he suggested.

She slowed her pace slightly, letting him catch up. Meanwhile, Garcia and Morgan beside them had launched into a conversation that somehow slipped past Reid’s attention once he found himself closer to the woman. Her head was tilted ever so slightly, arms folded across her chest, and he could feel the sensation of careful analysis on his profile — oh, he didn’t need to see her whole face to perfectly picture that expression. 

"So you're saying that normally my eyes give away my sarcasm?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"I was more thinking that deadly serious threats coming from a woman in heart-shaped sunglasses have something unsettling about them. I’m staying on high alert."

Her elbow against his ribs. Intended as a jab, but without real hostility, so he felt it more like a light, harmless brush.

"Calling it a threat already," she muttered, wrinkling her nose slightly. "You're so sensitive. All these years in this job and you still haven't gotten used to people trying to kill you?"

"The thing is, I did get used to it," he replied, letting out a short laugh a moment later. "Got used to it very well. But today’s my day off, so... it’d be nice to get a break from it."

He threw the words out without much prior analysis. They weren’t having a deeply intellectual conversation; his mind was relaxed. In fact, he was surprised himself by how good he felt, considering he usually didn’t go to places like this. The sheer number of people around was compensated for by the crisp weather, the noise at a manageable level. What helped the most was focusing on a conversation with just one person, which made all the unpleasant stimuli around him lose their intensity.

In any case, Spencer Reid felt good.

And he certainly didn’t expect his colleague to turn slightly towards him, moving with grace and effortlessly walking backwards, looking as though she was considering something.

"We'll see," she said with a slight shrug. The half of her face not hidden behind the sunglasses looked rather soft.

To Spencer’s surprise, it didn’t strike him as suspicious. It didn’t make him uneasy, or send him spiraling into psychoanalysis over what might be lurking beneath it.

Then suddenly, one corner of her mouth curled upward.

"But not because I feel sorry for you. I'm just having a good day”

And it got better after she got her cotton candy. At least the threat of getting run over by a go-kart had faded into oblivion.

Still, Spencer was about to suggest they start with something else, even beginning to glance around, when he accidentally caught someone’s gaze. It had clearly been fixed on him for a while, as if trying to confirm whether it really was him.

“Spence?”

A surprised voice came from a woman with long blonde hair draped over her shoulders, already making her way toward them.

A slow smile began to form on her lips—one that widened considerably when she spotted Penelope and Morgan as well.

“Hi, guys! Oh my god, I can’t believe this!”

Garcia’s ponytail bounced against her back as she came to a sudden stop, clutching a freshly acquired swirl of yellow cotton candy in both hands.

But she wasn’t the first to speak. It was Derek, arms spreading wide in greeting.

“Seaver, who would’ve thought!”

Running into a former member of their team was a very pleasant surprise. So much so that Spencer even let her hug him in greeting—something he usually tried to avoid. Briefly, over her shoulder, he noticed the woman slowly lifting her heart-shaped sunglasses to rest them atop her head.

Seeing her eyes uncovered for the first time that day, Reid found himself falling headfirst into the trap of her gaze—where he unintentionally held Ashley a second or two too long.

“I’m so happy to see you guys,” she said, pulling back with a smile.

“You here on your own?” Penelope asked. 

“With friends, but they all went on the Ferris wheel. And me and heights—” she waved a hand dismissively.

“Great! I mean—not great that you're scared of heights, but great that it means you can hang with us until they’re back. What do you say?”

“Really? That would be awesome!”

That’s how their little group grew by one. A lively conversation sparked up right away—it had been quite some time since they’d last seen each other. Reid, though genuinely glad about the reunion and curious about her new job, only took part for a moment.

Shortly after, before he even realized what he was doing, he drifted away from the group to fall into step with the woman who still had her heart-shaped sunglasses perched on top of her head. She was walking with them, but not quite with them, casually studying a theme park map in one hand, a tuft of pink cotton candy in the other. Technically, she looked focused on it, but Spencer doubted she’d be too upset if he interrupted her a little.

Besides, he needed to ask where the nearest bathroom was.

Before he could open his mouth, she noticed him approaching and gave him a brief, not-so-subtle (and not particularly interested) glance. Then let out a short snort.

“What?” Reid asked.

“What what?”

“What…” he echoed her earlier snort.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t answer right away. After a short pause, she went on.

“Call me nosy,” she said, “but I’m genuinely intrigued. A pretty blonde calling you Spence—who’s not JJ. Something going on there? Or used to?”

Completely caught off guard, Spencer blinked twice.

“Seaver?” he asked unintelligently.

And he already knew what was coming.

“No, Marilyn Monroe—”

“That was seriously a bit nosy.”

“I’m taking that as confirmation.”

“No-” he started, but immediately cut himself off. First of all, maybe, just maybe, a long time ago, something had happened on his end, but not enough for it to matter in this moment. Second of all, even if it had, he wasn’t about to explain himself for her curiosity. He shrugged. “Not seriously. It’s just Ashley. You should recognize her. She was with the BAU for a while.”

She shook her head.

“First time I’ve seen her.”

“I’m sure you’ve met her before.”

He felt mildly irritated by her bold stance. Because as he said, he was sure that they’d worked together on a case at least once. Of course, they hadn’t been close, as evidenced by the fact that Seaver greeted her with a mere hi, skipping any hugs. Which Spencer wasn’t surprised by at all. Her resting face and overall aura weren’t exactly inviting for hugs. Well, for most people. For the rest, sure, but in the way that beautiful, poisonous fruits tempt you to taste them.

“I must’ve just not remembered her face,” she replied dismissively. Then suddenly, she looked at him, her brows furrowed slightly in thought. He couldn’t tell whether it was genuine or fake. “Oh, wait, I think I remember now, when you mentioned her name. Ashley Seaver. She’s that daughter of the serial killer who helped you guys with the investigation.”

Spencer wanted to say something, just to interrupt her, but couldn't decide on the right words, so an unidentified sound escaped his mouth instead. She had said it so loudly that he immediately turned around to see if the woman they were talking about had overheard. He wasn’t even sure how she knew about it, but he didn’t want Seaver to think he had casually shared her past behind her back in an amusement park.

“You didn’t have to add that,” he said defensively.

“I didn’t? So, it’s not true? She’s not—”

Anticipating what she was about to say, he looked around desperately, unsure how to shut her up. A very simple idea popped into his head, one that didn’t require any props, but it was so absurd that he dismissed it immediately. Then, he thought of something else—he reached for the cotton candy in her hand, tore off a piece, and shoved it into her mouth, brushing his fingers against her lower lip.

She swallowed the sweet because, well, she didn’t have much of a choice. Spencer, watching her do so, found himself pondering what quote he might put on his gravestone.

“I’ll run you over with that go-kart,” she said with unsettling calm.

The sunglasses no longer covered her eyes, so he could clearly tell she wasn’t joking.

*

“Ooh, what if we tried competing in pairs?” Penelope suddenly suggested, clapping her hands, already excited by the idea.

Then she turned toward them, her gaze landing first on her own obvious partner (Morgan, of course), and then shifting to the remaining three—an uneven number.

The remaining trio also looked at one another. To make the situation painfully sitcom-like in the most awkward way, Spencer happened to be standing directly between the two women, whose heads turned toward him in perfectly synchronized motion. Then, toward each other. In silence.

“I don’t have to join,” Seaver broke the silence with a light shrug. “I mean, you all came here together, and I’m just waiting for my friends.”

“Or you could just go as a trio,” Derek suggested with a casual hand gesture. Then he threw a quick glance at Garcia. “Might actually make the teams a little more balanced.”

His gaze drifted to the woman in heart-shaped sunglasses, subconsciously sensing that if he said it out loud, she’d probably back him up—what with her unwavering belief that she could do anything better on her own.

But she wasn’t looking at any of them. Her eyes were fixed on some point in the distance as she lowered her sunglasses slightly down her nose. Combined with a brief, beckoning wave of her hand, it had such a hypnotic effect that Reid, entranced, didn’t even realize she was actually calling someone until a completely random guy appeared in front of them—a guy wearing a cap that suggested he worked at the amusement park.

He walked over with a step so light it was as if he were gliding, his dopey gaze locked on the woman who had summoned him.

“Are you off your shift?” she asked, arching a brow at his cap.

Spencer exchanged a confused glance with the rest of his friends. Derek’s mouth was pulled into a crooked grin, like he couldn’t wait to see where this was going—and was clearly entertained. Spencer, personally, was not.

“Yeah, like, five minutes ago,” the guy replied, swallowing hard. “Oh.” He looked up at the brim of his cap and quickly took it off. 

“Great,” the woman muttered, with absolutely no genuine enthusiasm in her voice. “You’ll be my partner, then.”

Morgan couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. The other women looked amused too, and Ashley was honestly a little impressed by how effortlessly she wrapped a complete stranger around her finger. It was obvious the guy wasn’t going to object.

Spencer didn’t find it impressive. He found it terrifying—but what did he know?

Watching the park employee drop his cap and awkwardly bend to pick it up, Spencer let out a sarcastic huff—directed not at the guy, but at the woman.

“Good luck winning, then,” he muttered in her direction, leaning in just enough so it’d be for her ears only.

Completely unfazed, she took off her sunglasses and hooked them onto the neckline of her top—which, of course, lowered slightly. She didn’t notice. She wasn’t looking there.

She was slowly turning her gaze toward Reid.

“After I kissed you, you acted like you were having a stroke for three days,” she noted, her voice quiet but unmistakably clear. “So try to be understanding with my new partner.”

She gave his shoulder a pat after saying that and walked off first to join the ring toss game.

And as Reid watched her go, a very, very treacherous warmth crept into his cheeks.

*

Maybe he should be more understanding of her new partner (Steve, as it turned out) (a genuinely nice guy, as it also turned out).

The combination of his knowledge of every game they tried and the demon of competition that seemed to possess her body (she was still merciful to Morgan and Garcia, but he and Seaver had no hope of anything more than being brutally chewed up and spat out) meant they won every single round.

And well, Spencer had originally planned to treat the whole thing as a friendly pastime where everyone ends up feeling like a winner—because hey, they were all clearly having a great time together—but he couldn’t quite swallow the bitter aftertaste of watching Steve hand her the massive duck-pond prize: a stuffed bear so huge that when she hugged it, it folded in half, and as she walked away, it looked like she was dragging an unconscious, fluffy body behind her.

“Spencer, what about getting something to drink?” Seaver’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He turned to her, her question reaching him with a slight delay. He noticed she had mentioned only his name—so she meant…just the two of them.

He didn’t really want to split off from the friends he came with, but he glanced over at Garcia and Morgan, currently locked in an intense battle with the claw machine, and at the other pair…who were, apparently, talking. If you could call it that.

Steve was saying something, a little nervously, with shy hand gestures, while the sunglasses were back on her nose and it was hard to tell if she was even listening.

But Spencer knew she was—he recognized the tilt of her head, ever so slightly to the side. She looked the same way earlier, when he had been explaining something to her just after they’d arrived at the amusement park.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” he replied after a moment of silence.

As they walked away, he caught a glimpse of the heart-shaped-sunglasses face subtly turning in their direction.

It seemed like Ashley wanted to bring something up, but she stayed quiet until they had walked off and bought brightly colored lemonades in clear cups.

“Your friend is…”

Spencer let out a quiet sigh, already knowing where this was going. It’s not like she’d been openly rude to her, but she had ignored her with a certain…passion.

“Annoying?” he suggested.

 “Intense,” Seaver finished at the same time, giving him a slight smile. Spencer raised his eyebrows, surprised. “She has a bit of a thing for competition, right?”

“I think it’s more about proving she’s the best of the best in every possible field,” Spencer muttered under his breath, not even sure if his colleague had heard him.

She took a sip of her drink through a straw. She seemed slightly amused.

 “And above all, better than me. She didn’t really like the fact that we ended up on the same team. I mean, you and me.”

Reid even stopped walking for a moment, completely failing to grasp her logic.

“No, I don’t think that’s it,” he said. They were nearing the rest of the group again—he saw the subject of their conversation standing with her back turned toward them. “If I were with her, she couldn’t compete with me or prove that I suck, which she just loves to do,” he added with a snort.

“Oh, I’m not saying she wanted to be with you,” Seaver corrected, and Spencer looked at her in confusion, because in his reasoning, that’s exactly what she had just said. But she shook her head. “I’m just saying she doesn’t like that you ended up with me. Oh, look, my friends are back. Time for me to go.”

She raised her hand to wave goodbye but hesitated for a second, her gaze drifting to the side as she gently bit her lip. Then, carefully not to spill her lemonade, she gave him a light hug. Over her shoulder, past the loose blonde hair falling across it, Spencer met someone’s gaze—one so intense that, if it weren’t restrained by sunglasses, it might have set something on fire.

Once again, he let it take hold of him, and once again it caused him to hold onto Ashley a moment too long, not breaking eye contact with the woman.

At some point, she took a visible breath, after which her posture relaxed into something resembling indifference, and she turned back to her new companion.

Spencer remembered he was holding a cup in his hand. Taking a sip of the lemonade, he thought to himself that this whole situation was really starting to mess with his head.

*

“What a shame Steve had to leave,” Spencer said.

They’d been standing in line for the Ferris wheel for a while now—since dusk was falling, the ride promised to be particularly scenic, and quite a lot of people had signed up for it. Each gondola could only hold two people, so the four of them had played a particularly intense round of rock-paper-scissors, in which Morgan was clearly cheating. But when Reid pointed it out, he got yelled at, since apparently, according to the others, it was impossible to cheat at rock-paper-scissors.

The woman stood next to him with her arms crossed over her chest. Quite close—something the line required of them—yet a visible distance had still opened up between them. They were talking, but it felt more like an exchange of cold updates, so he’d rather just stay quiet, not really sure why that was.

“Who?” she asked.

 “Oh, don’t pretend,” Spencer rolled his eyes, glancing at her with a scoff.

She responded with a dismissive shrug, which in turn drew a grimace from him.

“Don’t try to tell me you don’t even remember his name. You two were having such a great time together.”

“Why do you care so much whether I remember the name of some random guy or not?”

“He won you a teddy bear…wait, what did you do with that bear?”

He had only just noticed the giant stuffed animal had completely vanished and gave her a suspicious look.

Her tired sigh, her eyes rolling upward.

“I doused it in gasoline and danced an occult ritual around the bonfire it created I GAVE IT TO SOME LITTLE GIRL what else was I supposed to do with it?”

Her voice had the sting of a bite, and Spencer quickly backed off—God, he had only been asking. 

“I don’t know, take it home maybe,” he mumbled the suggestion, which she dismissed with nothing more than a mocking snort.

Their turn to board the yellow gondola came. It had a single long bench inside. He let her go first, and in silence she took a seat right in the middle, rather than sliding into a corner. Which meant he had no choice but to sit so close their shoulders almost touched.

"What a shame your friend Ashley had to leave," she said, crossing one leg over the other and keeping her gaze firmly away from him.

There was sarcasm in her voice. The kind of sarcasm that made Reid pause, openly studying her profile, analyzing it the way only he could. Slowly, he drew in a breath, something in his mind starting to click into place.

"I think so too," he said with a small nod.

"Obviously you do," she replied flatly, her words carrying a cool breeze of indifference.

He rested his elbow on the back of their seat so he could stay turned toward her. Her posture remained straight—she always took up a bit more space than she physically needed—there was an alluring aura around her, a boundary over which one could lose their senses, unless they were immune. Spencer considered himself to be.

“I think I know why you’re more unbearable than usual today,” he began, swallowing. She didn’t notice—she wasn’t looking at him. Not because she felt intimidated or anything like that, but simply because her gaze was something one had to earn.

“Go ahead, enlighten me.”

“You didn’t like Seaver being there.”

She turned her head toward him and even pushed her glasses up to the top of her head. Spencer slightly tensed his shoulders—this had a stronger effect than he’d expected.

“You really think that the addition of someone I’ve never interacted with, whose face I wouldn’t even recognize in a crowd, could seriously affect my mood? That’s something only unhappy people do.”

The Ferris wheel started moving, lifting them slowly, and Spencer had no intention of backing down from his theory. In fact, with each passing moment, he felt even more certain of it.

“That’s exactly what I think,” he said. “Because it meant less attention was on you.”

“Less attention on me?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “The teddy bear I got was bigger than you.”

"You can’t stand the fact that I was paying you less attention," Reid finally blurted out. "Because, well, you don’t even have to like someone or treat them decently—but you still want them chasing after you. And it’s way more satisfying for you when it’s me doing it, not some random guy looking at you like you’re a masterpiece."

She turned slightly more toward him, their knees brushing—something she didn’t seem to notice. Spencer did, but only registered it fleetingly—his focus was entirely on her expression. Alert, chin tilted subtly in his direction. Her lips had a faint shine to them, likely a sugary trace of cotton candy.

“And what, in your opinion, sets you apart from those random guys?” she asked challengingly.

“I literally just explained that.”

She looked at him for a moment in silence, her expression unreadable—before letting out a laugh. Spencer smiled too, though it was a smile edged with clear irritation, almost mocking her in return. Of course it was easier to laugh him off than actually engage with what he said.

But then his smile faded into a deep inhale as he realized he was staring at her—the way she laughed with her head turned slightly away from him, not looking at him at all—like she was the masterpiece.

“Spencer, please,” she said, rolling her eyes.

She met his gaze again. The only thing that crossed his mind was how humiliating it would be to kiss her then. To give in to the impulse creeping into his nervous system. To act like a complete hypocrite—probably the exact word her lips would leave imprinted on his skin. But he’d only notice it after the cotton candy sweetness had faded. Sweet sweetness. A distinctly human trait—choosing small pleasures and following desire instead of thinking about the long-term consequences of one's actions.

Like the typical human he was, he leaned toward her lips, ready for their meeting—when suddenly the Ferris wheel jolted and came to a stop, their gondola pausing at the very top. They heard a single frightened scream, but neither of them were the type to panic easily. They just glanced around.

Forgetting entirely what had just been about to happen.

Spencer nervously licked his dry lips, taking advantage of the fact that she wasn’t looking at him. He hoped no one had actually fallen out, but if someone had—he was fucking grateful to them, because they’d unknowingly stopped him from doing something incredibly stupid.

But a person falling out was actually the rarest reason for Ferris wheels to stop.

 “It’s most likely a power outage,” he explained.

The woman leaned forward with interest to peek out gently from the structure. And she chose to do so on his side, which meant leaning over him—bringing with it third-degree contact with the scent of her hair and her entire presence. Closing his eyes in exasperation at himself, he continued,

“Could be an engine issue, or a sensor malfunction. Or…could you please just go back to your seat?”

He addressed her firmly, that familiar anxiety flaring in him when someone did something risky right in front of him—even if she had only leaned out slightly. She gave him a somewhat amused look.

“I don’t want to be accused of pushing you on purpose,” he added.

She sighed, but did as he asked. Sat exactly where she had before, while Spencer pressed himself a little deeper into the corner of the seat to increase the distance between them. Thankfully, the machine started moving again shortly after—because if they’d been stuck up there any longer, he would’ve been completely lost.

There was nothing he needed more in that moment than the touch of solid ground beneath his feet.

After a moment, Morgan joined them—along with Garcia, whose legs were visibly trembling.

“Guys, I was sure we were all going to die…”

Everyone collectively allowed her to release the panic that had clearly built up in her chest. He, for one, was grateful for the chance to stay silent for a while.

It was then that he caught, for the last time that evening, the woman’s gaze—lingering and piercing, plainly indicating that she wasn’t stupid and knew exactly what he’d been about to do.

Moment later, she slid her heart shaped sunglasses back down onto her nose.