#i know james starts off like well james but i promise he gets better!

[ceruleanmusings]

No Idea; 1: Miscalculation

Summary - After getting called out for his past actions, James vows to change his ways and prove to Mickey that he can be her friend. (James x OC)

Contains: entitlement, mentioned harassment, deconstructing misogynistic outlooks

a/n: i can't promise all my updates will be speedy but i have been thinking about this a lot so i already have a lot of it mentally planned. it's just the writing part i need to do. and this exists because i have a deeeeep frustration with how james was treated in the show and how he never got proper character development (yes i say this a lot but i'm not joking when i say the frustration is deep!) so this is one way i'm working to fix it and, hopefully, change people's ideas of james. also this is set in season two and if i had to place it anywhere it'd be between BTGirlfriends and BTLive (though that's not super important.)

Tags: @witchofinterest @myloveforhergoeson @partiallypearl @raging-violets

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“And she has no idea, no idea, that I’m even here, I’m even here. She has no idea, no idea, I’m standing—no, wait—I’m lying here, I’m lying heeerrreee…”

The orange vinyl stuck to James’ face and probably wasn’t doing good things to his skin. He was too heartbroken to care. It was supposed to work this time. He had it all planned! New haircut—check.

New clothes to go with new haircut—check!

The perfect date idea—check!

The perfect opening to ask Mickey on a date—check!

It all lined up! It was all perfect!

How did it go wrong?

He ran his tongue along his teeth, even though he knew they were free of any unsightly bit of spinach or poppyseed, still smooth to the touch. He would never run the risk of bad breath. C’mon, a world-famous singer with bad breath? No one would live that down. And he was James Diamond, everything was on point with him. But she still said no! How was that possible?

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

James tilted his head, turning his view from shiny orange plastic to Mrs. Knight approaching with a laundry basket on her hip. “No,” he uttered. How could he be okay when the girl of his dreams shot him down? Again.

“What happened?” She sat and set the laundry basket on the table, pulling out one of Kendall’s shirts. Or was it Carlos’? They both tended to prefer off the rack sacks that hung off them. Logan, at least, leaned towards the collar shirts that fit him a little better. James had tailored clothes all the way.

Huffing a breath, James pushed himself upwards. The couch peeled away from his cheek. He rubbed the back of his hand against the line that formed and tucked himself into the corner of the couch. Crossing his arms, he flicked his head, moving his hair out his face. “I did what I always do. I asked Mickey out and she said no.”

“Is that all?”

He balked. Is that all? As if he’d said he dropped a toaster waffle on the ground or his that his fish sticks were soggy. How come no one ever understood the gravity of his life? Why did they always laugh at it? Okay, so, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to call the FBI over because he ran out of hairspray but it was a hair emergency! It was important! This is important!

“I don’t think you understand.” James cleared his throat and slowed his speech, “She. Said. No.”

“I heard you.” Mrs. Knight snapped another shirt in the air and, with a few quick folds, added it to the quick growing pile on the table. He almost asked her to separate his clothes from his buds’, but held his tongue. He wasn’t sure she’d take that too well. She got weird about things like that sometimes. “She’s said no to you before.” Rude. Hurtful. But…true. “What was different about this time?”

Wincing, he sucked air in between his teeth as the deep, throbbing ache came back; souring his stomach with that ugly feeling of shame he tried to ignore. He couldn’t exactly do that when Mickey’s face—twisted; anguished; red, wet eyes and all—came slamming back into his brain. He’d never seen her like that before.

He didn't know which was worse: seeing her so upset or being the reason she was so upset.

He twisted his fingers, spotting a hangnail. That had to go. “Well…it wasn’t exactly a no…” It wasn’t as short as a no. And it wasn’t as quiet as her usual no. It was louder. Much louder. And faster and more pointed than she’d ever turned him down before. And longer, definitely longer.

“What was it, exactly?”

Maybe it was the way Mama Knight looked at him, maybe it was the soft tone to her voice, maybe it was that she actually asked instead of brushing him aside. Either way, the cork was popped. There was no coming back now. “That’s what’s so weird.” He hopped off the couch, pacing, words spilling out of him. “I’ve asked her out a hundred and twenty-seven times”—yes, he’d been keeping track—“and she’d always say ‘I don’t think so’ or ‘I’ not sure that’s a good idea’ or ‘I’m busy’ or ‘I have to feed my ferret’—she actually does have a ferret.” Mama Knight made a silent ‘oh’ and nodded. It was a cute ferret. His name was Gizmo, she called him Pipsqueak or Pip for short. She absolutely loved him. He wished he knew how that felt. “Anyway! We’re hanging out in Studio A, just messing around after practice. The girls are packing up to head home and I figure, now that she’s alone, it’s the best time to ask her to the Griffith Observatory. So I do.

“And she says she’s not sure. So I try and sweeten the deal by reminding her that I’d pay for everything. And she says ‘I don’t know’. And I said what could be better than spending time with me? And she…well…” Sighing, James rubbed the back of his neck. The sour pitching of shame hit him again and, God, it was worse the second time around after everything happened. “She…kinda…yelled at me.”

“…Mickey yelled at you?”

“Yeah, I know. Surprising right?”

Mickey wasn’t just called ‘Mouse’ by her sisters because of the obvious name association but because she was just that quiet. In fact, the day they met by the Palm Woods pool, he couldn’t get a word out of her. And he pulled out all the stops.

The first time he’d heard her was her laugh at dinner that night. Kelly had invited them, Mama Knight, Katie, and Gustavo over for dinner so they could all get to know one another. They’d never met quadruplets before—really cute ones at that—so the questions were flying. She didn’t outwardly react, responding mostly with shrugs, faces, or waves of her hand. But then Carlos said something that made her laugh and—

Oh. My. God.

It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard in his life.

She first spoke a couple days later, some sarcastic comment about how they were stupid—which was fair—and none of them realized she’d said it at first until her sisters started cracking up. But the first time she’d said something to him? The first time she’d looked him in the eye, had his attention, and said, “You were meant to be here”?

His entire world stopped. Gustavo yelling at him for having “no talent” and being “the absolute worst” suddenly didn’t matter anymore. He was a goner. It was the best he’d ever felt in his life.

Mama Knight hummed and snapped another shirt. James frowned. What was he supposed to do with that? “Well, what did she say?”

Might as well get this over with. “She said for me to stop. To stop asking her out and to leave her alone. And why do I keep doing that to her? That she can’t take it anymore. And I was saying I didn’t realize she was serious and thought it was a joke or a game, our thing. Cause, you know, girls can be confusing, and I thought it was just how we were. And then she’s like ‘Why would you think that? We’re not friends. You don’t know me. You know nothing about me. Leave me alone.’ Which, I don’t know how I can do that when she plays in our band and she goes to school with us and they hang out here all the time. But now I’m here and I’m sad.”

He flopped onto the couch again, letting out a low moan, partially at having to recount something so uncomfortable and partially because it hurt all over again. Was this what embarrassment felt like? Her words echoed in her mind but it was the look on her face that hit him straight in the chest. He high-tailed it out of Rocque Records after that. He and the couch had become one ever since.

“I see.”

“What?” He didn’t meant to be so loud but…damn! She was being too cryptic for his liking. He needed answers! Popping back off the couch he demanded, “What do you see? ‘Cause I’m not seeing anything! And I don’t need glasses! I have perfect vision!” He pointed his fingers around his face, just missing poking himself in the eye.

“Well, sweetie, you have been coming on a bit strong.”

James crossed his arms. “Explain.”

With a few quick curls of her fingers, she paired and matched sock after sock. “Well, it’s…possible you’ve been making her uncomfortable with all the attention you’ve put on her.”

“What? No.” James scoffed. “Girls like that sort of thing.” She didn’t know what she was talking about. How long had it been since Mama Knight had a date? Right. She had no idea what dating was like now. It wasn’t the 80s.

“Not all of them,” she insisted.

That couldn’t be right. It always worked for him. It especially worked for his dad; he’d seen it with his own eyes.  He’d seen the videos of his old rock shows, the girls lining up just to catch a glimpse of him before and after a show. The way they held onto his every word at meet and greets or parties. The way they practically melted beneath the attention he gave them. It worked for him. That’s how he got his mom (so he says, his mom had a different story.) That’s how he got his second wife. It worked. He had the proof.

…Didn’t he?

“Why do you think it was different this time?” Mama Knight added.

“I don’t know!” He threw his arms in the air. They landed on his denim-clad thighs with a smack. “That’s the problem!”

“Just think about it. Based off her verbiage, she sounded distressed. And she said that you weren’t friends.”

“Yeah, that was the really weird part. Because we are.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” He paused. Then, “I think so? I mean, we’re always hanging out.”

“In a group.”

“I mean, there’s enough of us so…” Even numbers between his buds and the Mason girls made it easier to play games or do homework or teaming up for playing pranks or bothering Gustavo. It made sense.

“Have you ever spent time with her alone?”

“I’ve been trying to, but she keeps saying no!”

“She’s saying no to going on a date with you.” She put a stack of folded denim into the basket. “What I’m asking is have you, James, ever spent time with her as a friend?”

“Well—”

“Have you ever asked her about her day? What she’s been reading? What movies she’d seen lately? What she’s interested in?”

“Yes! I definitely have!” Ha! Mama Knight couldn’t poke holes into that one.

“Have you ever asked her those things without the expectation it’ll lead you to a date?”

“Um—”

“Have you ever asked those things just because you wanted to know?”

“I—” That’s not where this was supposed to go. She was supposed to have all the answers. Not ask him a bunch of questions.

“Here’s the thing; girls can tell when all you want from them is a date or a kiss or something else. And you’ve made it clear that you’ve been chasing after that instead of trying to get to know her.”

James shook his head before she finished speaking. No no no, she didn’t get it! That wasn’t what he was doing at all! But something niggled in the back of his mind. But...but what if she was right? Any explanation that came to his mind died on arrival because none of it sounded right. Not anymore. Wouldn’t that be the point of a date? To get to know her?

“Let me ask you something.” He groaned. He couldn’t take anything else. “Why do you like her?”

…Huh?

What kind of question was that? Apparently, he’d asked it aloud because she followed it up with, “What do you like about her?”

His lips blew in a raspberry and answers collided in his mind. Where to start?

“I like how much she loves playing the bass and how she puts her all into it even when it’s just practice. You can tell she really cares about it.” When Mama Knight didn’t laugh or make any sort of reaction he cleared his throat and kept going. “I like how much thought she puts into making sure fans have a great experience at our shows. I like how when she’s talking to someone, they’re her entire focus, like they’re the only one in the room. She’s a great listener and very understanding. She has this way of making people who walk away from her feel special, but I don’t think she realizes it. I mean, yeah, it takes a bit for her to talk but you when she does you can tell she’s taken the time to think about the right thing to say and that it means something.”

He stopped and shrugged. He could go on, but the thoughts collided into one another into one unintelligible jumble. What wasn’t there to like? Something about her drew him to her since he first saw her but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was that lit him up inside. That made him want to be around her all the time. Maybe a word hadn’t been invented for it yet.

“Hmm.” That humming was starting to get on his nerves.

“What?”

“Most people, when asked that question, they say things about what the girl does for them. Or they focus on their looks or something physical.”

“I mean, yeah, she’s gorgeous and funny and sweet and she has cool hair and she’s gorgeous, but that part’s a bonus.” She stopped folding, staring at him hard. His skin prickled beneath the scrutiny of her gaze. Did all moms practice how to look at them like that? “Sooo…what do I do?” She had to have some sort of idea to fix this. She always did. Otherwise she’d just be torturing him with facing his actions? That’d just be cruel.

“Okay, I’m going to tell you a secret. It’s really big and but it’s guaranteed to win anyone over. Are you ready for it?”

“Yeah!”

Mama Knight placed her hands on her lap and leaned forward. “…Treat her like a person.”

James blinked, shook his head, and blinked again, his eager smile instantly dropping off his face. “….That’s it?”

“That’s it.” Pushing out a sigh, she reached out and stroked his cheek. He leaned into her touch. And so what if he was pouting a little? That wasn’t the answer he expected. “Honey, I don’t think you’re bothered that she turned you down, I think what really bothers you is that she says you’re not friends.” He was ready to rebuff but she continued. “But she’s right. You haven’t been treating her like a friend. Or like a person. It’s like a consolation prize to you, and having a real good friend shouldn’t be less than.”

But it kind of was wasn’t it? “Just friends” didn’t go on dates or dress up or look at each other in a certain way or kiss or hold hands or whatever else it was that Kendall and Jo used to do and Kendall and Jazz now did. He claimed they talk a lot which, okay, that didn’t sound particularly exciting. He could talk to anyone if that’s all they did. He was good at that.

But he didn’t want to be in the Friend Zone. That was filled with airport pickups and shopping trips and ex-boyfriend talks (not that Mickey had any that he knew of but he couldn’t risk that.) His nose scrunched up at the thought. Mama Knight gave him that look again and sighed.

“The Friend Zone doesn’t exist,” she said, as if she could read his mind. How did all moms have that ability, anyway? “Looks like we’re going to have to have that conversation again.” He rolled his eyes but fought off a huff. She nearly bit his head off the last time he mentioned the Friend Zone around her. He didn’t want a repeat of that, thank you very much. Besides, she was a girl. She wouldn’t get it. “If you like Mickey as much as you claim you do, then being her friend or her letting you into her life would be enough. Because if you’re only being her friend with the hopes to date her, then you’re not friends at all.”

He clicked his tongue. He’d never felt like this for someone before. It could have been one of her sisters he met by the pool that day instead of her and he knew, deep down, he wouldn’t have the same feelings. Something made it nearly impossible for him to get her out his head, made him want to be around her, made him want to impress her.

But was that enough?

“It is.” Well, he could fake it until it was. Or until he liked her less. If that were even possible.

“Great. All you have to do is let her know that.”

“How?”

“Words work but, in this case, I think actions would work better. Be there for her. Be her friend. Everything else will work out the way it’s supposed to.” Slapping her palms onto her knees, she got up with a long sigh. Placing her hands on her hips, her mouth twisted to the side. “You boys are focusing so much on having girlfriends, you’re missing out on having great girl friends. You’re young, you’re in a successful band, you have all the time in the world to get girlfriends. Don’t let good friends pass you by on the way.”

[buckyalpine]

40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.

Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.

You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.

Bucky was in love.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"

“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"

“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.

"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.

He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.

How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.

So much closer.

-

"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"

You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.

“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.

"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"

"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.

All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-

“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"

You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”

His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.

"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.

Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.

-

You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.

"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.

"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.

You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.

"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"

He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.

"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.

"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.

But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.

If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.

You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.

"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.

Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.

Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-

“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"

"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.

"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.

"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .

“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”

His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.

“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.

“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-

"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"

-

And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.

There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.

It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.

The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.

Everything was perfecttt.

[yamujiburo]

Here's an arc I thought about doing but won't do because, it'd be a bit too sad and also it's too similar to the Turing Point Arc I already did and also it would be long. But I'll write it here for you angst enjoyers. This ended up being longer than I thought.

Despite getting the "okay" from Ash to date Jessie, Delia still worries that she's not doing the right thing or being a bad mom. Up until now she'd convinced herself that she had the right to be selfish for once after knowing only sacrifice and putting herself last.

Jessie and Ash, while not as antagonistic towards each other, still go at it. A Pikachu zap here, an angry "twerp" being uttered there. The guilt settles in for Delia and figures that it's best to just cut things off before things potentially get worse or before she gets too attached to Jessie. Her son comes first after all. That's what she signed up for when becoming a parent.

She sits Jessie down, eyes watery (it's the first time Jessie's ever seen Delia come close to crying). Delia says she thinks they should end things. Jessie is stunned but accepts it quickly. She sucks it up in the moment, puts a resigned smile on her face and tells Delia she'll leave immediately and not to worry about her. Delia's also broken up about it but promised herself she'd never cry over a goodbye and she wasn't gonna start now.

Jessie goes to James and Meowth's place greeted similarly to this, lightly teasing her about blowing it with Delia, and she breaks down sobbing. Oops it's real this time. James and Meowth do everything in their power to make her feel better. They let her know that things like this happen and they're ready to go wherever she wants to go (knowing that it'd likely be to painful for her to stay in Pallet). As much as she wants to leave, she doesn't want James and Meowth to lose the good thing they have going. She's not in the right headspace to make any decisions so she'll get to it later.

Ash returns home after doing a little training at Oak's lab. He notices Jessie's not around and asks his mom where she is. Delia is about to tell him but can't quite bring herself to say the truth out loud yet. She simply says "I don't know". Ash looks disappointed. "Aw man, I wanted to see if she wanted to battle. She makes a good battle buddy for all of my newer, baby Pokémon." Delia perks up that this. As quickly as he came, he leaves again to go train his Pokémon.

Later, Delia approaches Ash, asking him if he really meant that what he said about Jessie being a good battle partner. He gives her an enthusiastic "yeah!" and tells her that it's been nice having another battle ready trainer around since there's not many in Pallet. Delia starts to pry a little more. "I thought you and Jessie didn't get along?" Ash is confused, and tells Delia they get along great! "Jessie doesn't steal anymore! And she's getting better at battling which is cool." Delia brings up that she's head them argue before. "Oh... well I guess that's just how we are. I'd be weirded out if she was suddenly too nice to me all the time. Jessie's actually a lot like Misty. But taller!" This gives Delia a lot to think about but what's done is done and it's no use pressing on. It's easier this way.

The next morning Delia's getting ready for work. She must not have noticed that she was acting weird but Ash picks up on it. "What's wrong mom?" Delia's shocked he noticed (he's not usually this perceptive). She tells him it's nothing and that she just slept bad. "Hm. But Jessie says that when you're upset you get really quiet and intense." Delia notices that she was pretty intensely mixing the pancake batter. "Jessie told you that?" Ash nods. "Hey speaking of, where is Jessie? Haven't seen her since yesterday." Delia stops mixing and tells Ash that she and Jessie aren't together anymore. Ash is confused and upset at the idea of Jessie doing something that would hurt his mom enough for them to break up. Delia lets him know that Jessie didn't do anything like that and that them breaking up was just for the best. But Ash questions this, pointing out that he's never seen Delia as happy as she was when Jessie was there and also how Delia looks really sad now. Delia can't argue with that but then tells him that it's complicated. Ash, to Delia's surprise, looks a bit disappointed. He's bummed he wasn't able to say goodbye first and asks if she thinks Jessie would still be willing to come by and train with him sometimes. Delia asks him once more if he was really okay with her and Jessie dating. "Yeah I thought I said that already? Jessie's pretty cool when she's not being evil. And she really likes Pokémon which is a plus!" Such simple criteria. Delia's now worried that she might've made a mistake. She finishes making breakfast and heads to work.

At the restaurant she's met by James. She can feel an awkwardness hanging in the air. She knows that James knows. Before she can say anything James tells Delia thank you for employing him and helping him, Meowth and Jessie get back on their feet but that he's going to quit working at the restaurant and that they'll likely be leaving Pallet soon. Delia's heart sinks. There's now a ticking clock and she has to decide what she wants to do SOON. She asks James where Jessie is. James hesitantly tells her that she's at his and Meowth's place. Delia pleads with James to work the restaurant for one more day at least and to cover this shift. She has to go talk to Jessie. He agrees, hoping that this is a good thing.

Delia runs to James and Meowth's place. She knocks on the door upon arrival and waits. It takes a moment but she hears the door unlock. Jessie opens the door, disheveled, tears and snot all over her face, draped in a blanket. Jessie notices it's Delia and, frightened, slams the door. Delia's stunned for a moment and goes to knock on the door again but before she can the door opens. This time Jessie's tears are gone, her hair's fixed and she ditched the blanket. "Oh hey, Delia! What brings you here?" Delia can't help but be charmed. But this is serious. She shakes it off and asks if they could talk. Jessie invites her in. They get to the couch and Jessie starts frantically cleaning up all the crumpled tissues and dirty dishes off the ground. "Heh I caught a cold yesterday. A one day cold. I'm fine now." Delia doesn't call out the obvious lie and gets straight to the point.

She tells Jessie that she's worried she made a mistake. She made a panicked decision that she was hoping would protect Ash and her future self. But now realizes that she was afraid of the idea that she'd made a selfish decision by dating her. It was a selfish decision but that didn't mean it was a bad one. She was the happiest she'd been, Jessie and Ash were learning to get along and were getting along much better than she'd though. She acknowledges that Jessie has been there for Ash in a way that she can't quite be and is also grateful to her for managing to keep Ash home a little longer. She asks if Jessie would be willing to take her back (despite the distress she caused). Jessie starts sobbing with happy tears. She tearfully says she'll try even harder to get along with Ash and be a better person. Delia reassures her that she's doing just fine.

They kiss passionately but then realize it's weird that they're making out in James in Meowth's place and say they'll continue later. Delia tells Jessie to head back home and that Ash is looking forward to battling with her (and she also needs to let James and Meowth not to quit their jobs).

The end~

[luveline]

hii hope youre doing well! could i request coworker!james where r comes in to work sick and he gets worried?

fem!reader, 1.3k

It’s getting old, the whole charade. James didn’t like you and now he does. You used to piss him off, now you don’t. Somehow, someway, he’s seen parts of you he couldn’t help but love, in your voice, how you talk; in your hands, your touch; in your emails worst of all. Who ever thought that James could fall in love on Outlook? 

Dearest desk mate,

Where are you? It’s 9.45 and you aren’t here. You realise work starts at 8.30? Besides my worry, I need the invoice for Lang and Co. and Remus doesn’t have them either.

You’re my only hope, 

James

You email back a stringy fifteen minutes later. 

James, 

I’ll be there soon. I can’t attach the file from my phone but I will send it to you the second second I get there, I know you asked meyesterday. I’m sorry for holding you up .

James reads your email with a frown. Your typos are unlike you. He wonders if perhaps you’re texting and driving, which is abhorrent, but you walk into the office a minute later, so you must’ve been responding to him as you walked. 

You duck straight into the manager’s office. James can hear you say sorry before the door is fully closed, craning his neck for a good look at you. 

Remus laughs shamelessly. “Worried about her?” 

“About who?” he asks, even as his chair creaks and threatens to snap under his weight, leaning back to see you through the frosted glass. 

“She’s not going anywhere now she’s here, James. Nobody stops by for social visits.” 

James relents when he realises you may be in there for a little while. The rain today is aggressive against the window, condensation dripping down the windows to pool atop the radiators. You hate it; you love the radiators when they’re working in the winter, but sad summer days with rubbish weather bog you down. Either way, the condensation wets your elbows or gathers on your desk —it’s not nice. James grabs a wad of tissues from the box on his desk and begins his quick mission. 

“Oh, my god. Jamie, you can’t be serious.” 

“I'm avoiding electrocution.” 

“You’re cleaning up for her,” Remus says, putting his face in his hand to watch him with a softer smile, “it’s nice of you, really, but you can’t expect me to pretend I believe you when you say you don’t like her for much longer if you’re going to do stuff like this.” 

“Now say that five times fast.” 

His heart drops when you clear your throat, caught, sodden tissue in hand. You don’t eyeball him, there’s no scorn, you clear your throat again and all but collapse into your seat. 

“Hey,” James says. 

You tip your head back. “Hi, James.” Your eyes are bloodshot, and, to James’ surprise, you aren’t wearing a lick of makeup. You look very pretty but very tired, too. 

“You okay?” 

Remus bends around the desktop. “Yeah, are you okay? 

“I’m fine,” you drop your head back with some vertigo, and press your hands to your eyes. “I’m not very well, is all.” 

“What’s wrong?” Remus asks. 

“Just poorly. Um, I have a bad headache, and my ears are ringing, but it’s not unmanageable. I’m full of sudafed.” 

“Can’t you go home? We can manage without you until you’re better,” Remus says.

“I had all that time off a few weeks ago,” you say. You’d been ill not so long ago. 

“You can have some of my sick days,” James says immediately. 

You rub your eyes hard enough to make James’ ache in sympathy. “Doesn’t work like that.” 

“You really shouldn’t be here if you’re sick,” James says. 

“I won’t get you sick, I promise. I brought hand sanitizer, I’m not sneezing or coughing, I’m just aching.” Your movements are lethargic as you lean back in your chair, the slow roll of your shoulders and the limp cross of your arms over your stomach hard to ignore. 

James rounds the desk to chuck his tissues in the little bin beneath it. “I don’t think either of us are worried about you getting us sick, lovely.” 

Your face crumples quickly and neatens up again just as fast. “My head just hurts,” you say, rubbing your forehead. You manage to summon a wobbly smile despite your pinched brows. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” 

If it were Sirius, James would thrust a bottle of water and a pack of ibuprofen at him and tell him to chill out. It it were Remus, the expression would turn his heart, and he’d give his friend a good pat on the back. You aren’t Sirius nor Remus, you’re not so close to him that James knows what to do, but what use is he if he doesn’t try?

“Can I make you a cup of tea?” James asks. 

“That’s cruel,” Remus says, “your tea is like milky disappointment.” He stands with a smile James hates, some playful conniving mixture with good intentions deep, deep down. “I’ll make it. James, why don’t you turn the radiator?” 

“Is that okay?” James asks. 

“What?” 

“Do you think that’ll make you feel better, the radiator?” James asks. 

“I can do it.”

“No, it’s okay, it hurts your hand. I’ll turn it up.” He weaves back in between your chair and the radiator. Your desk is close enough to be faced with your thighs, but James doesn’t get half as distracted by them as he does your twitchy face. 

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks. 

“You and Remus worry too much.” You give him the side eye. “Why do you care?” 

“I think we’re a little bit past pretending we don’t like each other, aren’t we?” 

He turns the radiator on with less struggle than he’s anticipating and holds his hand to the bottom until he feels the metal warming. “Tell me if that gets too hot for you,” he says, standing. 

“Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem.” 

“No, really,” you say, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “thanks for worrying about me. I’ll feel better in an hour.” 

“Did you eat breakfast?” He brings his hand up to wipe a stray fibre from your cheek, “Why were you late?” 

“I…” Your eyes follow his hand as he lowers it. Emboldened, James raises it again, wiping at a phantom fibre. “What is it?” 

“Little hair on your cheek.” 

“I slept late, and I felt strange in the car so I parked for a bit, and… I don’t know. I should’ve stayed home, but you know what he’s like about sick days.” 

“You feel alright now, other than the headache?” 

“Just heavy.” 

James spots Remus coming back and steps away. “You’ll be alright, okay? Don’t worry too much. Do some of the top spreadsheets and we can manage the rest.” 

“You don’t have to do that for me.” 

James does, really. Remus gives you your mug of tea and one of the plastic wrapped muffins from the kitchen, both boys keeping watch over you like a vigil. If you were well enough to notice you’d complain, but you spend the next few hours sipping at your tea as it turns cold, and nibbling at little bits of muffin, clearly tired. 

You email James the Lang and Co. invoices four hours after he’s asked for them with a sorry and a frowny face emoticon. James wants to kiss you on the forehead, feels it so strongly it becomes a different kind of wanting, to look after you and for you to want him to do that. He’s in way too deep. There’s not much he can do. 

“You want some more tea?” he asks, leaning over to grab your discarded mug.

“Yeah, please, Jamie.” 

James’ fingers wobble around the mug. 

Remus glances up from his phone. 

“Of course,” James says, smiling, “coming right up.” 

Jamie, he thinks. Friends call him Jamie. He can be your friend, he’d love to be your friend, but Jamie. Even sick, you say it sweetly. He trips over himself trying to get what you asked. 

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1486 words

You promised the girls just one blind date—nothing more, nothing less. At the time, it seemed like a harmless favor. But now, sitting across from your date in a dimly lit restaurant, the air thick with the aroma of their signature dish, the indistinguishable chatter of nearby diners, and the clatter of dinnerware, you’re starting to question that decision.

Connor shrugs, slicing into his steak with casual ease. “I didn’t do too much today. Babysat my nephew since my brother begged me,” he says, his tone indifferent. “But honestly, I hate babysitting his kid.”

“You don’t like kids?” You ask, doing your best to keep your voice neutral. You gingerly push your fork through another piece of pasta, trying to maintain an air of indifference.

He looks up at you, his dark curls nearly black and bouncing with the movement. “Hate ’em,” he says without hesitation.

You can’t help but notice how much he resembles an off-brand version of James, and it frustrates you. His familiar features keep pulling your thoughts back to your best friend instead of your date. At least, that’s the excuse you’ve been clinging to for the past hour.

“Oh.” You say softly, placing the food on your tongue and chewing slowly as you stare down at your plate.

“Do you have a kid or something?” You look up, a pause in your chewing as you find Conner holding his glass and watching you closely like he’s hoping you’ll say no.

Your first instinct is to say yes, and you nearly cringe when you realize your mistake.

You finish chewing and swallow hard. “Uh, no,” you say, shaking your head as you reach for your wine to wash down your feelings. “But my best friend does. Single parent.” You’re not sure why you felt the need to add that last part.

Connor leans back in his chair, nodding slowly. “Well, good for her,” he says. He isn’t sure why you’re telling him this, and frankly, he doesn’t care.

You sit up straighter. “Him,” you correct. Connor raises an eyebrow and not much later, he calls for the check.

James is surprised when he sees your call. He knows you’re supposed to be on a date—Lily mentioned it—and he’s been stress-cleaning his house ever since. Halfway through he gave up and turned a movie on instead.

“Darling?” He answers, “Is everything alright?”

“It could be better,” you say with a laugh that falls short of genuine humor. “I’m not too far from your place. Could I come over? I’m just at the Windmere.”

“Yeah. Let me—” There’s shuffling on the line as James grabs his jacket. “—I’ll meet you.”

You huff, “No. You’ve got Henry asleep upstairs.”

“It’s five minutes.” James protests, heading to the kitchen to grab the baby monitor off the counter.

“Exactly, Jamie. I’ll be there soon. I love you.” You hang up before he can respond, leaving him thoroughly disappointed. He appreciates every chance to tell you he loves you, even if it's just as friends.

It takes you less than five minutes to get to his house, and James flings open the door before you can even knock, making you giggle.

“You worry so much about me, Potter.” You say with a teasing smile as you push past him and kick off your heels, the click of the shoes hitting the floor echoing in the entryway.

James stands by the door, his gaze following you with a mixture of concern and affection. “Of course I do. How could I not?” He replies, his voice earnest and warm.

You shrug off your jacket, and James’s gaze quickly settles on your tight black dress. The silky fabric clings to your figure and moves fluidly as you shift. James feels like he’s going to pass out from the sight—you look incredible, and he’s painfully aware that you’ve dressed up for another man.

He swallows hard, attempting to keep his voice steady. “So, how was the date?” He finally asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you might say next.

You feel a warmth rise to your cheeks, the slight embarrassment making you smile softly. “What gave it away—the dress or the girls?” you ask, your fingers lightly brushing the fabric of your dress as if to acknowledge it.

“The girls,” he admits, a small chuckle escaping him as he glances over at the baby monitor to check on his son. “But the dress would’ve been a dead giveaway if they hadn’t.”

You laugh, the sound light and teasing as you catch his gaze. “They're awful at keeping secrets, aren’t they?”

“Was your date supposed to be a secret from me?” He asks, making his way to the couch with a curious look. The cushions sink slightly as he sits down, and you follow suit, settling in beside him.

“No, it wasn’t,” you say, surprised, turning to face James with wide, sincere eyes. “But I wasn’t exactly excited about it, either.”

He leans back, eyebrows furrowed, “Why not?”

You take a deep breath, your fingers nervously tracing the hem of your skirt. “ I don’t know,” you admit, voice softening as you look away. “I’ve never been on a blind date before, so I didn’t want to get my hopes up. And I guess... I’m glad I didn’t, in the end.”

James watches you closely, his eyes filled with curiosity. He’s trying not to appear too eager to learn about this date of yours. “Why’s that? Didn’t go well?”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you quickly blink them away, hoping James doesn’t notice. But he does. “I just... I don’t know how to find someone,” you admit, your voice shaking slightly. “And it’s so discouraging that my friends set me up with a guy who’s completely wrong for me—well, except for his looks.”

James opens his mouth to ask what the guy looked like but holds back, sensing that this isn’t the moment.

“What does that say about my dating life?” You continue, a tear slipping down your cheek. “If my best friends don’t even know what I like in a guy?” You sniffle, your fingers brushing absentmindedly over your lips as you stare down at Henry’s toys scattered across the floor.. “I think I need to put myself out there more. Go on as many dates as possible. I need to meet someone.”

James feels like he’s going to be sick. He’s floundering for a way to tell you that, no, you absolutely shouldn’t. But how can he say that?

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “Is there a rush? To find someone, I mean.”

You shrug, your gaze still fixed on the floor. “I know we’re both young, but I feel like if I don’t find someone now, it’ll only get harder down the line.”

“Oh.” He responds softly, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

A heavy silence settles between you, both lost in your thoughts, until you break it with a shaky voice. “Is there something wrong with me?”

James snaps his head up, startled. “What? No! Why would you even think that?” He asks, incredulous, his tone laced with concern.

“I’ve been asked out three times in my life,” you say quietly, your voice trembling. “And two of those were back in school. Is there something wrong with me?” Finally, you turn to look at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears clinging to your lashes.

“Darling, no,” James insists, his voice filled with genuine concern as he scoots closer to you on the couch. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “You’re perfect.”

You sniffle, managing a small, sad smile. “Don’t lie to me, Jamie,” you say, trying to keep it light, but he can hear the trace of hurt beneath your words.

“I would never,” he murmurs, placing a tender kiss on your head as you settle back into his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothes you. “You're everything anyone could ever want—an absolute dream girl.”

“Stop it.” You whisper half-heartedly, though a part of you wants to believe him.

“I'm serious,” he insists, his voice firm yet gentle. “Whoever you end up with will be incredibly lucky.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, the room filled only with the soft sounds of your breathing.

“I’ll help you look for dates, if you want.” He offers suddenly, the words slipping out before he can stop them. Regret washes over him immediately; he wishes he could take them back. The mere thought of you on a date with another guy twists his stomach into knots, but actually helping you choose someone else? Brutal.

You tilt your head to press a kiss gently to his jaw. Your voice is a soft whisper, filled with gratitude, “Thank you, Jamie.”

He doesn’t know how much longer he can do this.

[moonstruckme]

I’ve been binge reading your emt polymarauders. And I gotta tell you ! It’s like sipping a nice lemonade on a summer day. Oh my…

I’m a medical student so I loooooove this prompt so much. I couldn’t sleep tonight because biochemistry has been rotting my brain. Ugh

Anyways,

I had an idea, could you maybe make a reader who’s in her first year of med school and she’s so stressed. The boys try to ease her a little but she doesn’t listen and itch closer to burnout. Until she starts to feel unwell and comes out of her study to drink water. But before she can react she passes out and the boys rush to help.

(Totally not happened to me once in front of almost 30 3rd years. Nooooo.)

Hope you like the idea ❤️

Thanks babe, I'm glad you enjoy them! And thank you for requesting <3

cw: academic stress, fainting

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“What nerve supplies the posterior arm and forearm?” Remus asks you. 

The words are beginning to sound like gibberish. “The, um…the radial nerve.” 

“Well done.” Remus sets your flash card atop a stack. There are three of them, ones you know well, ones you’re still shaky on, and ones you’ve not got a clue about. This card goes in the first stack. It’s small enough that every addition feels like a victory. 

Your boyfriends have been kind enough to bring you lunch at the library. It was quickly revealed as a plot to try and coax you into taking a break, but when that clearly wasn’t working they decided to stay awhile and keep you company. You have a reading room all to yourself today, so James has made himself comfortable on the couch and Sirius has laid his head down in his lap, content to have his hair played with while James watches you and Remus study.

“And which carpals communicate with the radius?” Remus asks. 

“Um…”

“Think carefully,” Sirius says in his TV host voice. “This one’s for full points.” 

You blink. You feel suddenly odd. Off-kilter. “There’s two,” you say slowly. “Lunate and…um…” 

“Can we do hints?” James asks. 

You’d rather not, but you feel like you need it. “Sure.” 

“Alright.” Remus glances down at your card. “It starts with an s.” 

“I know it.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I had this one yesterday. It’s like sca…sca something. Sorry, I feel like I can’t concentrate.” 

“Do you want me to tell you?” Remus asks gently. 

You sigh. “Yeah, okay.” 

“It’s lunate and scaphoid.” 

You groan, pushing your fingers into your forehead. “I knew that.” 

“It’s alright.” Remus sets the card in the middle stack. He’s watching you carefully. “Do you think it’s time for a break?” 

“Yeah.” You take a deep breath. “I feel weird, I think…” You pick up your water bottle, but it’s light, empty. “I’m going to go get some water.” 

Remus’ eyes are sympathetic. “Good idea, dove.” 

The feeling worsens when you stand, like the change in altitude is making you light-headed. You take two steps. The first wobbles, the second sinks. 

You don’t remember passing out. There’s no darkening of your vision or panicky realization, just one second your knee is bending unbidden and the next the trampled fibers of the library carpet are smushed against your face. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.” It takes you a second to recognize the feel of hands under your head and ribcage, but that’s James’ voice. The knees of Remus’ trousers are in front of your face. “What’d you do that for?” 

“I didn’t mean to,” you mumble. 

“Let’s get you on your back,” says Remus. 

He and James work together to rotate you gently, and then you have a better view of the room. Remus and James kneeling above you, Sirius standing behind them with a look of wide-eyed horror. It appears each of your boyfriends has jumped up in a fright. 

“Do you feel warm?” Remus brushes some hair away from your face while James picks up your wrist to get your pulse and Sirius launches into action, kneeling by your feet. 

“Not really…” You startle as your legs pick up off the floor. “Sirius, my skirt!”

“It’s just us here, doll,” Sirius reminds you. “I promise to protect your modesty if anyone comes in, whatever the cost.” 

You frown at what he could mean by that, but Remus thumbs over your cheek placatingly. “Is there anywhere around here that might have sports drinks?” 

“Um, there’s a vending machine downstairs.” 

“Perfect. I’ll be back shortly.” He gives your cheek a quick hold before leaving. 

James kisses your palm once he’s done with your pulse, and then his fingers find the collar of your shirt, popping open the first two buttons with practiced ease. 

Your hand flies up to prevent him going further. “Why does everyone keep trying to undress me?” 

James laughs, and Sirius replies smoothly, “Why, is this not a good time for you?” 

“Take it easy, lovie.” James takes your hand, holding it in his own. “We’re just making sure all the blood that wants to go to your brain can get there.” 

“Oh.” You knew that. Or you should’ve, if your brain was working properly.

“If it’s somewhat risque in practice, I certainly don’t mind as much with you as I do with the old blokes we sometimes get.” Sirius winks at you. 

You offer up a weak smile in return, and he pouts. 

“How’re you feeling, sweetness?” 

“I’m alright.” You take a breath. “Can I sit up now?”

“Let’s give it a bit.” James rubs your shoulder. “How do you really feel?” 

“Just…weird. Shaky. But not too bad.” 

“That’s good,” he says, though he looks like he doesn’t quite believe you. 

“I think I’ll be fine once I get something to drink.” 

“Mm, I think there’s probably a bit more to it than that,” Remus says as he comes back in. He crouches beside you, twisting the top off a bottle of orange juice. “That is a very well-stocked vending machine. Do you feel ready to sit up, dove?” 

“I have been,” you say. “They won’t let me.” 

“Such ingratitude,” Sirius teases as he sets your feet back down. “We were only waiting for your juice.” 

James helps you up with a hand on your back, and it takes a second of wordless wrestling with Remus to get him to let you bring the bottle to your own lips. 

“You could be dehydrated,” he says as you drink, “or you could just be exhausted, or both. And you can faint from too much stress too, you know.” 

“I know,” you grumble, wiping your mouth. 

Remus takes your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. You find your indignance shrinking under his steady gaze. “You hurt yourself when you push yourself this hard, sweet girl.” 

“I know,” you say, softer now. “I thought I could handle it.” 

“You need to take more breaks.” 

You nod slightly. 

“And work on putting less pressure on yourself.” 

“Alright, Rem, lay off her.” Sirius rubs your knee. It breaks you from Remus’ trance, and your dark-haired boyfriend flashes you a smile when you look his way. “She’s got enough going through her head without having to remember all you want her to do. Let’s go home, yeah?” 

James insists on supporting you while you walk out of the library. Sirius and Remus debate what film you should put on once you get back to your flat. 

“Shouldn’t I get to choose?” you ask. 

“Well, look who’s feeling up to asking questions.” Sirius gives your cheek a condescending little pat. “Unfortunately, I don’t think you’re really ready to be picking out films, my love. Your decision making is probably still impacted from that fainting spell.” 

“Really.” You narrow your eyes at him. “I’ve never heard of that side effect.” 

“Well, you’re only a first year, doll. There’s lots you don’t know.”

[lizpottersworld]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . JUST NOT HOME. even though you and remus aren’t together anymore, your heart aches for him and to feel his love and care again. even your friends are worried, and even they’re acting off. (remus lupin x reader)

ask/request anything here

play my tears ricochet for the effect if your feeling special and like crying

it was a shock. the breakup. you didn’t even think separating with remus could be so brutal, well truthly you hadn’t imagined it at all. he was it for you, and you thought he thought the same. honestly, he probably did. yet, the way it ended left your heart broken beyond repair. three years thrown away.

not even your guys closet friends saw it coming, they had always looked up to your guys relationship. the high school sweethearts who loved each other like their was nothing else to savour in the world but the being of each other.

even though you hadn’t heard from remus recently, by your friends worry and anxiety for your being you could tell he was probably doing way better than you. to put it nicely, you looked like hell. all the healthy habits you had built over time thrown away, because he helped you get to that point. and now he was gone, what was the point of carrying on?

he was your home. your belonging. your soulmate. the reason you had carried on all these years. where was the loving and tender boyfriend you had loved those years back? where was he when he called it off with no explanation, leaving you crying in your shared apartment?

there was so many questions you wanted to ask, but nothing could soothe the pain you were feeling.

“y/n/n, please just if you need help just call us, any of us.” marlene pleaded on the phone, doing her daily check in with you. it was unusual hearing marlene so panicked and worried, she was all sunshine and parties really.

“i promise, i’ll be fine.” you sighed, the roughness to your voice not supporting your answer. of course you weren’t, you had cried about it non stop.

“okay well, i have to—“ she started, being cut off by the abrupt sound of pure laughter in the background. your breathing naturally startled, it was his laughter. not just anyones. his.

“marlene, is that—“ your voice croaked involuntarily, you knew all your friends had been hanging out with remus recently you just weren’t aware it was a happy kind of hangout. you always assumed it meant they were individually checking up on him. how was he so happy? it had only been a week?

“yes, i’m sorry y/n/n, we’re all just hanging at james tonight, it was only to make him feel better i didn’t—“ she rushed to explain again, surely the others had picked up on the words and all paused and hushed.

“he seems perfectly fine, marlene! meanwhile I haven’t seen any of you, calls are fine but how does he get the normal invitations to hang out? am i just not apart of the group anymore?” you scoffed, tears streaming down your face in anger and the ache of your heart.

“of course you are, its just— he was our friend first and—“ she pleaded with you, only making it worse for herself. your heart pained at her words, a pathetic whine sounded through the phone from you.

“thats always how its going to be it seems. no matter what I’ve done and do for you guys, because your my best-friends. but you know its all good because you met him a year before me so it makes perfect sense.” you managed to say through the sobs you let out. “i think i’m done with being the second choice in this friendship. you shouldn’t have to choose. i’m done mourning my— the relationship i had with remus just as i’m done with all your bullshit. i hope they all can hear me.” you seethed through your teeth, incredibly hurt, and then you hung up.

that same day you booked a flight, away from london, away from the place you only felt sad in. a week later, you moved out your flat and used the money to go to the uni you always wished you could go to. ‘that was always too far for long distance’

and that year, you started your new life, made new friends and had become close with your roommates. hours away from london, now living in Edinburgh. occasionally, your old friends tried to reach out to you but you ignored them. all until you received a message from him.

lover💓 hey. been a while, no ones heard from you, just wondering if your okay and well. i miss you. we all do.

and just like that. your heart ached again, and you found yourself immediately sending a reply. no matter when, no matter where in the world. you would always have that weak spot for him.

[cjjohansson]

what if love isn't enough?

natasha romanoff x reader // part 1...

angst? yes. sad? yes. am i sorry? no x x x

“Were you going to tell me?” you breathe out into the room, Natasha stills when she hears your voice. 

“Tell you what?” She tries to act innocent but you know better. You won’t fall into her games right now. 

“That you're seeing some girl, some doctor in the medbay?” Natasha stays quiet, and part of you feels like you can hear your heart break. 

“Ha, ok, nice. See you around Natasha.” And now it is her turn to feel like she can hear her own heart break too. 

You and Natasha have a long history. Years of flirting turned into a one night stand, which led to multiple dates. Which then turned into a relationship that floated naturally, without one another having to say a thing, without actually having to verbalize it. You shared a bedroom; well not for about 3 months now, that’s how long it has been since you two separated over a stupid argument about how she didn't want you to go on a solo mission. Nights spent in that room worshiping each other, treating each other's wounds after a bad mission, comforting each other after horrible nightmares, sharing i love you’s…

How can you be with someone for 5 years and claim you love them so much that it hurts, to then start seeing someone only 2 weeks after breaking up? 

Because according to a conversation you overheard in medbay, they’ve been seeing each other for just under 3 months. 

You mindlessly drift through the compound, ignoring everyone who tries to speak to you, you can’t do this right now. 

How can you do this when only 5 days ago, she was in your bed breathlessly moaning your name after you both needed some comfort after a bad mission?

How could she do this? That’s all that was running through your head as you approached the punching bag in the corner of the gym. 

How could she start seeing someone so quickly after you broke up? How could she then sleep with you while seeing someone else and not even tell you? How could she rip your heart out all over again? 

You hated it. You hated how much emotional power she held over you. 

But you guessed that’s what you get for falling in love right?

“Hey.”

“Fuck off.” You huff to Bucky as he approaches the bag and holds it still, taking the force from your punches like they're nothing to him at all.

“You know…” That makes you stop. Your hands falling to your sides as you stare at him confused.

“I know what Buck?” You watch his eyes widen as he takes a step back, putting some distance between you. 

“I was going to tell you, I was, I promise you. We both just got caught up in missions and when I was here you weren't, and vice versa you know?”

“I know what James? Do not make me ask a third time!” Your anger is building, you already know the answer.

“About Nat and Dr-”

“Fuck you.” 

“Y/n…”

“NO! FUCK YOU!”

“Calm down, let me talk!” 

“No, you don't get to talk to me. You’ve been my best friend since we were 3 years old! You kept this from me! How could you! How could you…” You sob as you turn and walk out the room. You can’t be here. Your own best friend knew? Who else knew? Everyone most likely if Bucky did. 

You find yourself mindlessly drifting back through the compound, only this time no one stops to try and talk to you. You can’t imagine you look good right now, you're so close to exploding. 

You end up in your bedroom, walking into your closet to grab a suitcase from the top, dragging it to your bed as you work your way through your drawers and closet, grabbing everything and anything you could get your hands on. 

You need to leave, it is the only thing that you can actually think straight on. If you stay, you won’t survive. It’s been hard enough the past 3 months let alone knowing she is with someone new. 

“Babe…” You don't stop grabbing clothes. You don't bother to fold them, you just throw them straight into the suitcase as quickly as you can.

“Can you let me talk, let me explain.” You stay silent. You can’t even look at her right now. 

“I’m not, ugh, I’m not seeing her. I don’t know what you heard, but you know how rumors spread around here. I’m not seeing her.” You lose it. 

“You're fucking her though, right?” You turn to face her, keeping the distance between you. You're so angry, you're hurt, this is ruining you. 

“Y/n… We broke up.”

“Oh so that just makes it okay to go fuck someone days after we break up? 5 years of my life wasted for what? Did you actually ever even love me? Or did you just love the attention I gave you?” 

“That is not fair. You know I love you, I love you so deeply that it hurts, it aches. But you were the one to walk away, don't try and act like a victim here. YOU LEFT ME! You broke my heart. So you do not have the right to stand here and be upset and angry with me for doing that, when you were the one who walked away first.” That isn’t fair, that isn’t what happened at all. 

“I did NOT walk away. You gave me an ultimatum. I had to go on that mission, you knew I did-”

“YOU DIDN’T! Bucky said he would go instead! The lead up to that mission was driving you crazy, for months you had nightmares, you worked yourself to exhaustion. I tried to be there for you and you pushed me away! I stayed until I couldn't anymore! I couldn't stand by and let you ruin yourself. I left because in return it was ruining me too. Because if I stayed you would have hated me anyway.” Both of you are breathing deeply, the tension flowing around the room. How can any of this be happening? How is any of this fair to either of you?

“I love you. But you didn't love me enough to stay. So I walked away and every step I took, it fucking killed me. I stripped myself bare to you! I gave you so many parts of myself that I have never given to another person before, that I will never give to another person ever again! So yes! I slept with someone, I can hold my hands up and admit that I did. It was soon, and that was a shitting thing to do but you leaving was really fucking shitty too Y/n. I do not owe you an explanation or an apology for how I deal with my own pain, not anymore.” Natasha’s breathing picks up, tears flowing down her cheeks with no intent of stopping any time soon. 

“Natasha…”

“I am not seeing her. I slept with her once. And I have regretted it every single day since it happened. Because she isn’t you, but no one is going to be you, ever. And that’s my burden to carry.” Natasha turns to leave the room but you find yourself rushing towards the door and holding it closed before she can exit. Her back is pressed against your front and all you can smell is the perfume you bought her for valentines day. 

“Stay…”

“How can you expect me to stay when you wouldn’t?” Her forehead rests on the door as she continues to breathe deeply. Her words completely throw you. Because she is right.

“I know that mission drove me crazy, but I need you to understand that I needed to do what I had to do tasha or it would have ruined me even more. They…they ruined me, they took me apart and put me back together wrong over and over as they saw fit, day after day. I was the one who needed to finish it. Not anyone else. Because if I didn’t finish it, it would have eaten me alive for the rest of my life. That night, when I left, all I felt and saw was rage. They stole everything from me, I needed it to be over, and I’m sorry that it meant I had to leave you to be able to do that. But I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to ruin you too. I never meant for any of this Natasha. Believe me when I say that, please.” Your voice cracks as you rest your forehead on the back of her head. Your tears falling into her hair, you can feel her body moving from her own sobs. 

“I know you didn’t. I didn’t either but we both did. How can we even move forward from this Y/n?” She turns in your hold, your forehead now resting on hers and you stare into each other's red eyes. 

“I love you. After all this time, I still love you. It’s always been you, it was you yesterday, it was you 2 months ago, a year ago. It is you today, it will be you tomorrow and for the rest of my life it will be you, I love you Natasha.” 

Her hand moves to your face, your own head leaning into her palm as she takes the weight of it. 

“But what if love isn’t enough y/n?”

part 2

[occamstfs]

What You Really Want

Milo mouths off about a man dating his long time crush before immediately learning the lesson that he should be less trusting of strange voices promising to fulfill his desires

Pretty standard straight to gay himbo/jockification! It will also be my final story for some time I believe, so I do hope you enjoy! -Occam

“It’s no fair that they literally have it all.” Like many a ‘nice guy’ Milo has spent an inordinate amount of time skulking social media and disparaging more physically gifted men as he stumbles across them. The root of his despair is not difficult to ascertain, his eyes burning with envy make quite clear the inner monologue of ‘girls always date assholes.’ He sneers as he comes across the most recent post of his friend and crush, Juliet. The jealous man of course knows next to nothing about the character of James, the jock-type now dating her, but judging by the gleaming smirk and the bulky arms of a killer hanging from his shoulders, the judgemental dweeb has more than enough evidence to speculate.

Delving into his memories, Milo’s face burns with embarrassment as he recalls mentioning his crush to Juliet, ‘Oh!’ her bright eyes shift uncomfortably and her cheeks begin to blush enough to match the pink tint she threw on this morning. Milo’s fist clenches as she almost giggles in her discomfort, ‘sorry Milo I guess- Well, I guess I just thought you were gay?’ After this Milo played it cool, he thinks. Hand scratching the back of his head as he asserts his straight identity and the two go on to have a meal far more quiet and awkward than usual. When new-boyfriend James comes to pick up Juliet, Milo forces a smile before staring daggers at his back as the pair walk away. 

This brings us to the present hate scrolling session in which Milo is more than absorbed. Lips curl into a sneer as he traces the impossible to ignore curves of this must-be dullard’s defined body. Milo scoffs as he sees the litany of women that must make up the man’s dating history. “Bet they won’t even last a week, ha! I mean judging by how much the douche spends in the gym I bet he’s just using her as a beard anyway.”

With this final rather homophobic assertion, the nerd’s phone flashes before going dark, “What the-” before he has to determine whatever caused this, he goes stiff as a strange voice resounds through his head. ‘Tired of all the big boys getting what they want, hmm?’ Immediately concerned he’s lost his mind, Milo gets to powering back on his phone to call for help. ‘Now now, Milo. Do not worry your little head. I am here to help. Would you not like the chance to be just like them?’ Just like them. Envy burns through his veins greater than anything. Sensing this immediately, whatever this voice is seizes upon his clearly fragile psyche, its laughter steely and alien, ‘Ah ha ha. I thought so.’

Dropping his phone once more, Milo tries to drill the voice, “Wh- what are you exactly. Are you a dem- hm, an angel?” The voice answers almost before he even finishes the thought, ‘It matters not what I am. All that matters are your desires. Now. Do you wish to be all you desire, all this James embodies? All that he is in your head.” Miles gulps and almost starts drooling at the idea, just like James. Women at his fingertips whenever he wants, a body sculpted by the gods while keeping a far better mind than that oaf could ever afford. With next to no hesitation or forethought, Milo nods and the world goes dark.

When he awakens the poorly mannered man finds it’s the next day. His phone rests in his hand and when opened he finds it zoomed in on a picture of James’ meaty bicep. Milo rolls his eyes and tosses his phone aside before going to stand. Making it halfway up he grunts in pain as he only then discovers morning wood more pressing and turgid than he’s ever encountered. Falling back down he clutches at the pain in his crotch from his cock being forcibly yanked by his underwear. Hands now grasping it he gasps as he finds it filling them far more than it has any right to. 

Well now, while they’re already down there he might as well have some fun right? After briefly struggling to get his waistband over his swollen package his mouth falls open in shock as he’s finally able to appraise the almost unrecognizable cock hanging from his crotch. It’s like none he’s seen before, not that he generally observes dicks of course. Far more impressive than he imagined a dick could be. His fingertips can scarcely meet his palm when he tries to grasp it, and as he begins rubbing it it feels leagues more sensitive than it has before now, as if nerve endings are multiplying. Looking to his awaiting phone he sees the photo of James and what’s her name as he begins masturbating outright.

Seeing a bulge in James’ strained pants he grunts as he returns to stare at his own suddenly substantial cock. More like him. The already thicker rod strains as he reflexively humps into his hand, forcing his grip wider as it expands to simply need more room. The new veins painting the length of his nascent ten inch dick surge higher up its length as he swears he can see them pulse and bulge with each racing heartbeat. Beneath his thrusting hands, bouncing as his hips continue to forcefully thrust with more strength than he has, his balls similarly grow heavier, larger as they send hormones flowing through him enough to metamorphosize and, more immediately, cause pre to stream and coat his fingers. 

Milo leans his head back as he is bursting with a need for release greater than he can understand. He shifts his jaw as it twinges with the pleasure of growth, widening and strengthening into one fit for titan. Below his newly defined chin, his neck thickens and moans grow deeper as an Adam's apple bulges out of his throat. Hearing his voice echo deeper throughout his bedroom, his heady pleasure comes to a head as he is struck with the bizarre urge to lick the pre off his fingers. Before he’s able to acquire or express shock and disgust, his eyes blast open and he is again staring at the image of James, more like- and he blows his load.

The moment of release may as well have shut him down once more, pleasure overloads him like a flashbang as every inch of his body feels at once. Drool drips from his plumper lips as his mind is fried and his hips continue to thrust without any input or awareness, sending stains across his wall and splattering into his darker hair as it begins to pull shorter and tint darker. Eyebrows thicken and cover more of his forehead as his brow hangs lower over his eyes staining brown and growing duller.

His whole form tenses as he finally achieves release, staring at the image of his, uh, competition. Arms flex as his hands crack wider, fingers stretch longer, skin grows rougher. For the first time in his life definition appears on his arms, biceps and triceps compete for which can increase faster, which can catch more eyes, which can rival those alluring arms of James. Beneath shoulders packing on weight are pits that darken with curls now thicker, a deeper brown nearing black as the forest strives to prevent any light from breaking the canopy. Similarly they moisten with the masculine heady musk that they are perfectly designed to disseminate, powerful enough to allure any twink towards his dick, or uh, huh.

Milo moans as this seemingly intrusive thought makes itself at home in his morphing psyche. Barely returning to sentience enough to realize the stray gay thought, he arches his back and stretches as if he were waking up. Mindlessly he wipes the cum staining his larger hands on the new dark treasure trail as it itches and slowly inches up from pubes unshaved. Feeling the hint of an Adonis belt he sits up with a shock, the feeling of something he has long envied bringing back his awareness.

Despite the obvious differences it takes far too long for him to be aware of, to truly notice what has become of him. He struggles to make sense of the effort it takes to move his new larger limbs. He grabs at his new hair and sucks drool through his teeth as he tries to understand how it’s changed texture and color so totally, did he dye it and forget or what? The gears in his mind slowly turn as his fingers move to scratch an itch under his arms, struggling through the dank jungle of curls. Thoughtlessly he brings his sweat-wet fingers to his nose and grimaces. “Fuck man, I smell like an, uh, like a, unnh-” he moans quietly as he’s unable to even finish the sentence, instead an image of James forces its way to the front of his mind and two now-malnourished brain cells spark together and strain to form a thought.

“Oh fuck I’m turning into a imbe-, an uh imbekle? Ugh, an uh- a dumb jock.” Milo bites his lips and flexes an arm to try and assuage his nerves, to get his attention focused on anything but his anxieties. Fortunately to this end, seeing his bulging biceps he feels his larger cock begin to stir. Some semblance of rationality knows ceding to his wanting package is probably what led to this encroaching fog over his mind. His skin begins to prickle as all-around it grows more sensitive. Beyond these skin deep sensations it also seems as if darker hairs are beginning to spread out wherever his follicles will allow.

Seeing hair beginning to prickle his chest and blanket his legs his mind produces images of hairy men he has leered at through the years. His neck twitches as whatever dregs of the pathetic skirtchaser he once was rise up and try to combat his new predilections. He’s straight, he’s always been straight. Right? His mouth goes dry as he tries to remember ever having dated a woman in the past. Barring that, only just able to recall that something is happening to him, only just able to remember that he is transforming into some alien self, Milo tries to produce an image of what he used to look like. And he cannot.

His mouth falls open as it often does whenever he struggles to produce a thought, making it almost his default state. Mouth-breathing mouth ajar he fully experiences the thick air of his bedroom as it fills with his new musk. The room around him begins to dissolve and reform into surroundings that reinforce who he is now, that prove this is who he has always been. Clean pressed laundry dirty and shift into unwashed gym clothes that help cloud the room with his stink. Posters of whatever movies and video games he enjoys corrupt into images celebrating the impressive male form, all distinctly stained from the years of hanging on Milo’s bedroom walls. He hears clanking outside of his bedroom as bookshelves collapse and reform into weights heavier than he would be able to lift.

Milo stumbles to his larger feet and ignores the hefty weight of his balls and cock bobbing in the air as he drags himself out of his bedroom to find a mirror. He leaves sweaty footprints larger than any shoes he owns on the tile of the bathroom as he bumbles in. Leaning over the sink his lips quiver as he sees a razor clogged with hair darker than he feels he should have. Sooner than the doubts arrive they vacate as a thick, stubbled beard rapidly bursts onto his face. Looking up he smirks as he sees a thick mustache surges over his upper lip, looking just like the ones he appreciates,  just like he has always been into. His eye twitches and he grunts as his hair retracts once more into something far more intentional and stylish. At the same time pecs suddenly bulge larger and hang lower as Milo leans heavier over the bathroom sink. 

His eyes glaze over as complex thoughts once more become too elusive in the face of his rising lusts. Muscles bulge larger as his back and legs creak, stretching him taller as thighs and shoulders widen and continue putting on mass. Feet spread like fins on the floor as his hands widen and sweatily slide on the ceramic sink. His mouth continues to water as he inspects all these increasingly masculine changes and his cock continues to throb. Milo bites his lip as new sensations arise from his cock once more, this time the change is apparent as his foreskin regrows, making his cock look even thicker as its head grows hooded and he struggles not to immediately break into masturbation at the powerful image of his own seductive form.

Milo’s barely functioning mind struggles to argue for any reason to not just return to the immeasurable delights of gratifying his all-encompassing urges. He stays his hands for a moment before the greatest horror yet rears its head. A monologue begins in his mind that is not his own, that cannot be his own. Dull laughter echoes through his increasingly vacant mind as a voice even slower and deeper than that which sounds from his new vocal chords, “Yooo broo come onnnnn. Give up, give in. This is what you wanted, ‘s what we wanted huhuhuh.”

He feels a pressure in his balls as they almost churn with the otherworldly need that seemingly always flows through him. He can’t help but imagine the men he’s going to bed with his new endowment, how many cocks he’s going to take in his new powerful ass. Drool trickles from his lips through the dense black stubble that coats his face denser with each second, with each breath. Spit continues down the length of his more defined face before dripping onto weighty, similarly furred pecs. His heavier hands slowly creep towards the hardening cock standing tall and long from the jungle of pubes. Before he’s able to assist his thrusting hips however, his lusty haze is interrupted by his phone chiming. His mind immediately thinks it must be James which fills him with conflicting emotions of rage and giddiness. “Ohh bro maybe he’s inviting us over. It’s been toooo long since we fucked huhuh-”

Milo pointedly tries to ignore his hairier, bulkier reflection as he stumbles out of the bathroom to check his phone. Unfortunately he catches a glimpse which makes it all the more difficult to ignore the throbbing weight dripping, almost pouring, pre onto the floor. Despite it all he stands strong, quieting this other voice as it urgently tries to convince him to give in before he’s able to pick up his phone. In a final act of resistance, or perhaps impotence, he has the lofty idea of calling for help before his mind goes completely blank and, seeing the notification, he instinctually goes to his messages to find who texted him. It’s Juliet! 

First his heart flutters before he’s absolutely confused at the sensation. She’s just his bestie? Weird. He shakes off whatever that was and gets on to reading the message, “heyy girlie- which of these do you want me to post? Oh ya and lmao, are you and james cool if I do the last one?” At the mention of James his pulse again races and there are butterflies in his stomach far more powerful than whatever bizarre feelings he had but moments ago. No time to dwell, Milo starts swiping through the images sent. They’re a photoset of their little group outing to a halloween party last week, the trio, Milo, James and Jules dressed up as a group, as X-men! Respectively dressed as Wolverine, Cyclops and Jean Grey.

He smirks as he starts chubbing up again thinking of how easily he was able to pass as the hairy beast. His eyes then return to see James’ bubble butt in trademark spandex, which only makes it harder to not lose control then and there, moaning as he imagines playing with that ass. Holding to whatever well of willpower remains within him Milo holds strong and keeps his hands above waist level. Finally he gets to the specific image Juliet mentioned, one of him and James messily making out on the dance floor. James yanks at the hairy Milo’s hair, visor half hanging off as Milo reciprocates by shoving his hand into James’ pants. Fuck that’s hot.

Without even touching his needy cock, without any pleading from the new voice in his head, without a single chance to hold back. Simply from seeing the steamy image of him and James, Milo’s mind is overrun with memories and desires of the new man he is. The man he ever was and always will be. And for the second time today, but not the last, he loses control. Cum splatters against his phone as his mind goes blank anew with rushing pleasure. Painting himself once more with his most-used utensil he laughs dumbly as he realizes how swiftly he just came. Almost with pathetic haste, though now he’s quite unfamiliar with any sense of shame. The voice that only just wormed its way into his head spills from his mouth as it fully and forevermore wrests control as the true Milo.

“Huhuhuh guess I should work on my hair trigger,” He grunts as he looks at his phone and texts back some variation of ‘girl that’s porn you can’t post that!!!’ he turns his mind where it goes more often than anywhere in his new life. He wonders what James is doing and immediately texts him. Waiting for a reply Milo heads off to the gym to get a pump in before presumably going to meet him, not worrying about cleaning up or covering his scent. The gym’s for smelling like a man right? He certainly wouldn’t mind if everyone else followed his lead huhuh. Milo bites his lip trying to ignore his hardening cock as he makes his way out of the apartment clad in too-tight, stained gym clothes. 

Before he even makes it out the complex he gets a text from James and promptly changes course. Immediately Milo’s racing down the street to his lover’s apartment. Cock already snaking down his shorts and creating a stain at its nadir, Milo hopes he can keep his needy cock at bay until he makes it. Thinking of the alternative work out he’s to enjoy in bed with James, Milo struggles to not moan obscenely as he waddles as quickly as he can into the lobby of James’ building. Heart racing with excitement he can’t wait to see James in person. Jittery with nerves, it feels like he’s going to meet the man for the first time. Hah! Milo promptly ignores the idea and starts to get some stretching in before their session. Trying to practice mindfulness with a mind thicker than mud he quickly finds himself possessed with memories of their countless times fucking in the past. Easy enough as the pair have been doing so for years. Still nerves assail him as his cock continues to strain his shorts. As the elevator doors click open he smirks as he was able to make it this far without blowing his third load of the day. His cock throbs with anticipation for its release soon to come, and impatiently awaits each and every similar session to follow.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Let me stay small, please (let me wait a little longer)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.4k

genre: fluff, comfort

warnings: slytherin reader, you grow and you change and you can't really stop it, the world spins on and all that, you can go back to the past but no one's there anymore, guys I promise it's actually very lighthearted I'm just going bonkers rn

a/n: it's autumn and I'm so happy this is my time this is my moment. I'm posting this from my phone and I'm so scared that the formatting is fucked pls tell me

A cool breeze blows by and you know that if you could see Sirius's face, if your head wasn't resting against his shoulder with your eyes fluttered closed, you'd be able to see the concerned frown that you're sure is tugging at his lips. His jacket was draped over your shoulders ages ago and he pulls at it now, tucking you further into the warmth of it as you press against his side.

"I won't freeze, you know," you murmur, admittedly half asleep. You hear him scoff, another gust of wind blowing through and rattling the leaves on the trees, sending them spiralling down in flashes of oranges and reds down to where you're sitting.

"It's getting colder," Sirius points out, and your slow, sleepy state makes it difficult for him to embody his usual loud, snippy tone. "It won't do any of us any good if you catch a cold right as the semester's starting, sweet thing."

"Well," you drawl quietly, letting your eyes flutter open so that you can tilt your head back and look up at him. "You'll do my homework for me if I do get sick, won't you, baby?"

"I will not," he sniffs indignantly. "And neither will Remus, before you even ask him. You know he'll just bring your books to bed and help you from there."

"Whatever," you say as you wave your hand dismissively and blow a puff of air from your cheeks. "James will do it for me."

"Well, probably, yes," James's chipper voice makes the two of you look up as he and Remus join you, settling against the huge oak tree that you and Sirius had been leaning against. "But what am I doing for you, love?"

"My homework," you clarify. "But only if I get sick."

"Why would you get sick," Remus frowns, eyeing you suspiciously. 

"Hm, no reason," you shrug absently, and Sirius huffs rather dramatically at your dismissal. 

"Well, good," James plows on. "Now that we're all back together, there's no time for any of that." He flicks you ever so gently on the forehead as he speaks, that familiar teasing tilt colouring his voice as he grins. You roll your eyes and relax further into Sirius, knowing that James is likely already planning some sort of prank or party or god knows what else.

"Speaking of," Sirius chimes in, bumping his shoulder a bit to get your attention as Remus settles on his other side and curls into him, leaving James to sit in front of you and pick leaves and grass blades off of your pants for you. "I haven't heard anything about Slytherin's first party yet - what's that about, no housewarming this year?" 

"Well, we were talking about it," you muse, shrugging a bit as the three of them stare at you and blink owlishly at your words. "It's our turn to host the Halloween party this year and you know we always go all out for that. I don't know, we just thought it might be a bit much to do the two back-to-back." Sirius sniffs at your words, pursing his lips like he's trying not to say something that he knows will egg you on as Remus leans forward to look at you better.

"Well, I wouldn't know…" he begins, and your eyes narrow at the teasing mirth that's entered his voice. "But last year Gryffindor hosted the Halloween party and we still managed to do both, but I guess that's different." You stand up abruptly at his words, brushing stray leaves off of you as you begin to stomp back towards the castle, the three of them scrambling to stand amidst their laughter and chase after you.

"Love, where are you going?" James calls as he jogs to catch up to you, standing in front of you so that he can walk backwards as you continue to march on.

"Oh, I just have a party to plan - you know, Slytherin housewarming party and all that, lots to do," you say flippantly, scowling as you hear Remus laugh and Sirius cheer from somewhere behind you. You do slow your pace, though, as you walk through the courtyard, letting the three of them fall into step with you once more.

"You should let me help with the playlist," Sirius offers smugly, but you just shove him with your shoulder in response, his jacket still hanging off of your frame.

"Make your own playlist - don't you have our own party to plan?" you quip. He just laughs, though, as Remus slings an arm around your shoulders.

"And make sure it's not on the same night as ours, my love," he says helpfully, something mischievous twinkling in his eye as he pulls you closer. "We wouldn't want any competition with attendance - somebody's bound to get their feelings hurt."

"You three, most likely," you tease back, but James reaches from where he's walking behind you to pinch at the back of your thighs, delighted when you make an embarrassing sort of sound and turn briefly to smack him on the shoulder. 

"Really, though," he adds as you turn for one of the many winding staircases heading down to the dungeons. "We need to be able to go to both, so just -"

"We'll do it the weekend after yours," you say in defeat, stopping to spin around in the deserted stairwell to look up at him. "Happy?"

"Very," James grins, leaning down to press a quick little kiss of victory to your lips as Sirius frowns.

"That's not fair," he chimes in. "That means you get to see ours first and plan ahead."

"I think I've already seen yours first, babe," you say pointedly, making Remus snort and bury his face in your hair to hide a laugh while Sirius flushes crimson and turns his head away.

"Anyway," he barrels on. "Why not just do things the same way we did them last year?"

"Because…" you shrug, watching as James pats a hand rather consolingly onto Sirius's head. "It's not last year. This year's different - it's new and everything's changing and we might as well follow suit."

Things…  quiet down a bit at that, everything settling as you shift on your feet and Remus tangles his fingers with yours in a nervous sort of habit. Outside of the stairwell, other students can be heard laughing and gossiping about the new academic year and everything that they think will come with it. 

"It doesn't have to," Sirius says stubbornly. "Why can't things just stay the same?"

"I don't know," you say softly as James runs a hand through Sirius's hair. "I think things change even if we don't want them to. I'm not sure we have much control over it."

Sirius looks at you a bit imploringly for a moment before letting his eyes flit over the other two - at the messy curls of James's hair where it's grown more over the summer and at the height of Remus as he stands taller than he did last year. Sirius is sure, even if he doesn't want to admit it, that he'd find changes in himself as well if he dared to look in a mirror. 

But then he looks at you and, although you've undoubtedly changed as well, your eyes still look at him with love and patience and trust, and he feels his shoulders drop just a bit in defeat - and maybe, just a little, in comfort, as well.

"Well," he huffs, crossing his arms and pretending to scowl at you even as he eyes soften. "Just don't steal any of our party ideas."

"Like I'd need to," you quip back, spinning on your heel and continuing down the spiralling stairs. "If anyone's doing the stealing, it'll be you lot taking ideas from us."

Three indignant voices ricochet off of the stone walls as they chase after you, shouting and carrying on about the insult of it all. You step a little surer, though, and laugh a little louder, and as Sirius catches up to you and drops a gentle kiss to your forehead, you're not sure you mind the changes. You're not sure that it matters, really, how much the world spins outside when everything right here is just the same as it always has been. 

[coyotelip]

starchaser microfic: nuts || @into-the-jeggyverse || wc: 638

“So how goes the honeymoon?” Sirius's voice on the phone is slightly interrupted by the poor connection, but unfortunately for Regulus, his words are understandable. 

“It would have been better if you hadn't reached me in the middle of the bloody ocean.” Regulus replies lazily, picking up another cashew nut from the platter next to his lounge chair. 

“Uh, what does Jamie do?” Regulus isn't surprised at all at how soon Sirius jumped to the topic of his beloved friend, it's even strange that it wasn't his first question.

“Why don't you ask him yourself?” 

“Well, he didn't answer my calls. I was starting to think that you are holding him prisoner for your sexual pleasures and want to break us up completely.” 

“Sounds like very accuratedescriptionof marriage, but, this is shocking to you, I didn't marry your best friend just for his huge d-” 

“Oh, stop it. Don't make me lie awake at night again with that horrible picture in my head. Better tell me how Italy is.” 

There's a splash of water and Regulus turns his head to see James climb out of the pool, ignore the towel and walk straight to Regulus, letting the water drip off him in heavy drops. 

“I don't know about Italy, but the ocean is... wet.” Regulus holds out his hand with the nut toward James, who has stopped at his feet. He bends down, a couple of cold drops falling on Reg's sun-warmed thighs, and the man wraps his lips around the nut and his fingers without breaking eye contact. 

“Oh, I wish I could be there, London is a pain in the ass right now with all this rain.” Sirius reminds Reg of himself on the phone. 

“Mmm.” 

Regulus's eyes are fixed on James's lips, and he doesn't let go of his fingers for a few seconds, but eventually the man releases them to ask, “Who's on the other side?” 

“Your ugly twin,” Regulus says with a smile, now running his free hand over the man's wet shoulders and hearing the unhappy exclamation on the other end of the phone.

“Oh, tell him I said hi,” the way James's smile has taken on a new bright glow at the mention of Sirius is a little annoying, but Regulus can't deny that he loves him to death even so. Regulus reaches for another nut so that he can touch James's lips again right now... not that he doesn't have every right to as his legal husband.

“James said hi,” he repeats into the phone, and meanwhile James sits on the edge of his lounge chair and strokes his bare legs with his wet hands, and his lips wrap around the nut and his fingers again.

“Ooooh, give him the phone, I miss him so much!” Sirius doesn't let him forget, but all Regulus' thoughts are now focused on the feel of wide palms on his lap and the seductive smile on James' lips.

“Argh, Sirius, I'm going to be honest. Right now I'm feeding your best friend nuts in a very homoerotic way and it's only a matter of time before we have gay sex right here on the lounger. If you're bored and miss him, I can keep you on the phone and do my best to keep his voice ringing in your ears, but I can't promise that it will be coherent words. The choice is yours.” Regulus is already in a sitting position and restrains himself from placing a deep, passionate kiss on James' lips. 

“Oh, bloody hell, you're going to drive me to my grave.” Sirius hangs up the phone without hesitation, knowing the rules of this game. Regulus always keeps his word. 

“All right,” Reg mutters under his breath, throwing the phone on the table and finally getting to the most important thing. 

[the-kr8tor]

I'm doing it! I'm writing a request! :D

(Ik you're suuuuppperrr busy I'm so sorry you can take as long as you want I'm in no rush you're so sweeet and literally a lifesaver cause every time I read your posts, I get infused with the energy of 2 million Suns)

So I was thinking about a oneshot where r is waiting for Hobie to come backstage after one of his performances and this know it all groupie type guy is like, really giving her a hard time and he won't listen to anything she says he just sucks or wtv. Then Hobie comes out like, total golden retriever all giddy and happy to see r and the other guy is just baffled. Dunno it's kinda silly and based off of a post I saw a while back presenting the idea of it.

Thank you for requesting! Sorry for the wait, I hope you still like it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mentions, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

As the band closes their last song, the crowd cheers and hollers at them. Hobie, all pumped up and sweaty, bows to the audience. The colourful stage light illuminates his features well, lighting up all of his perfection; from how sweat clings to his cheeks, sliding down to his chiseled clavicle. His piercings shine brightly under the warm light, the cherry red guitar in his ringed hand acts as a beacon to the rowdy crowd. Yuri goads them on, arms riling up the crowd for an encore. Turning the clapping and screaming to thunderous applause and screeches.

You're situated along the side of the stage, and on the other side of the bannister where the crowd is currently starting the largest mosh pit you've ever seen. You crane your neck up to the stage, unintentionally meeting with Hobie's hazel eyes that were already turned towards you.

He confidently winks in your direction, a few people behind you screeches like a wild banshee. They don't know the wink was for you and for you only. You wink back, more bashful than the one he threw at you. It's your little signal, a signal that you and Hobie made when he's about to finish his set so you could wait for him backstage where he always runs towards you with his arms wide, grinning triumphantly and embracing you until you're breathless. You're familiar with his affectionate winks, but that doesn't mean you're used to them. He always catches you off guard with them, loving the way your eyes widen with your hand flying to your chest as if he just jumpscared you. Truthfully, you wouldn't have it any other way.

“Fine,” Hobie reluctantly cuts off your little staring contest with the silent promise of being by your side the moment the band finishes this one song. His lips press on the mic, eyes roaming around the packed stadium. “you lot better be fuckin' ready.” An immediate wave of whistles and yells echo around.

With his guitar riff starting back again, lights turning red and acting as the band's spotlight, you walk towards the event bouncers. Once they see your v.i.p ID they let you through the doors and into backstage.

Passing by the snack table placed by the event organizers, you stumble back to it. You then take an armful of water bottles for the entire band, and then you take a single black and white cookie just for Yuri and her sweet tooth.

Arms full, you wait by the side with the perfect view of the band playing with their whole heart. Hobie jumps on an amplifier and backflips off it. Your heart almost fell into your stomach when you thought he couldn't land on his feet. But of course he did, Hobie practically backflips off the bed every morning (not really he’s a grumpy riser) so it's only natural that he lands on his feet like an experienced gymnast.

Yuri and the others jam together in harmony, Ned belts out while James looks like he wants to crowd surf from the look in his eye. You hope he doesn't, not after what happened last time.

“Cool t-shirt.” A voice suddenly says next to you.

“Thanks.” You glance at the tall stranger while you adjust your hold on the water bottles and cookie.

“It's vintage isn't it? I know from the crude design.” You furrow your brows at the comment, especially that you and the entire band stayed up late to finish an entire sack full of the handmade shirts. “It's from their first album, right?” The man raises a brow, like he's questioning your knowledge.

You flick your eyes down to his own shirt, it's a recent one, definitely better than what you have on but it doesn't share the same amount of sentimentality. “Yeah, I know, I was there.”

“Right.” He scoffs, you take a step away from him, turning your attention back to Hobie, who's still not done with the last song. “Of course you were there.” Your jaw tightens, annoyed at best but you're not willing to leave backstage just because of him. “If you were there, you'd know that the shirt was technically designed for their second album. Not the first.”

You turn your head sharply, “you're right, it was.” Smiling, your eyes tell otherwise. “But it was made for the first album because the band couldn't be arsed to make another design for the second one so the second release of the shirts were in a bigger quantity. Hence the misunderstanding that it was for the second album instead.” You finish off your sentence with a smirk.

“Yeah, sure, lady.” He scoffs, unconvinced. “You probably can't name a single song from that album.” He makes another annoying entitled scoff “As if you were actually there—”

“There's our girl!” Yuri appears behind you while you basically throw daggers at the man with your stare. She clasps your shoulder, nudging you happily. “Ooh, cookie! Thanks, babe!” Yanking the snack from your hand, pecking your cheek, she spares the fan a glance then quickly makes her way to the green room to rest before the meet and greet.

“Where's our cookie?” James pouts, feigning a frown.

“I've got some water for you, Jamesy.” You almost forget about the fan gawking and aweing next to you.

“It's not the same though!” And yet, James still takes the bottle from your hand, patting your shoulder as thanks.

Ned clicks his tongue and shakes his head, following James, he takes his share, walking backwards and still teasing you with a disapproving face. “The sheer favoritism!” To add to his so-called discontent, he slams the doors of the greenroom. You're sure that you even heard a muffled, “give me that fucking cookie!” from him.

Before you come looking for your favourite guitarist, Hobie appears from behind you, arms snaking along your middle to wrap you in his anticipated hug. “How's our number one fan?” You lean back, smiling up at him, not minding how his sweat now sticks to your back. You meet with his eyes as he pecks your temple with a resounding smack of his lips. You can see the adrenaline waning off him in waves as he carefully puts more of his weight on you without making you fall from the increased weight. You find yourself giggling more and more, already forgetting about the intrusion.

“I'm good. Hi.” He expects that reply from you, not from the man across from you. “I'm your biggest fan, Hobie!” Holding up a trembling hand to shake Hobie's hand, you seethe in place.

“Thanks, mate.” Hobie, being polite, shakes his hand. “But if you were the biggest fan, you'd know that this shirt…” he pats your stomach, hand lingering there. “was lovingly made by my girl for the first album.”

He's had his fair share of people like him, he takes their words in stride, but the moment someone does it to you, he'll be sure to fight back. He's convinced that if you weren't interrupted you'd be wiping the floor with the rude fan’s face by proving him wrong. Or literally wiping his face down on the ground if need be.

You grin wider as you see colour drain from the fan's face. “I ordered shawarma for everyone.” You provide the biggest slap to the rude fan by ignoring him. “I hid the biggest portion for you.”

Hobie chuckles into your shoulder before taking your hand and leading you away without another word to the strange fan. “And everyone says Yuri's your favourite.”

[writtenbymoonflower]

omg i have a request !!! i don't think our bb james is much of a fighter, but imagine if someone just say something about reader that just hits a nerve, and poor bb literally gives himself a panic attack, to a point where reader is just pushing him away and trying to get him to breathe with her :((( just reassuring him and giving him all the love in the world !!! ofc u don't have to if u don't wanna ily !!!

i love this! thank you so much hunny! James Potter x fem!reader

cw: mentions of drinking, pressuring someone to drink, ‘b word’ used as a derogatory term, swearing

735 words

Despite the bitter chill in the air, you felt clammy and cramped. The campfire radiating warmth into your face was pleasant, but the overcrowding of bodies sitting next to you wasn’t as much. You leaned onto James’ chest, snuggling closer when he put a long arm around your shivering shoulders. The night was winding down from Sirius’ party, only a few people remained, all sharing the leftover drinks around the fire. The small amount of alcohol you had drank that night was sitting in your stomach like a brick and you couldn’t wait to get home and sleep it off. Your eyes were just drifting closed when they snapped wide open, a cold bottle pressed against painfully your bare shoulder. 

You looked up to see the person next to you trying to hand off a beer bottle to you. He was looking at you nicely enough, but you still declined. 

“I’m okay, thank you though.” You gave him a polite smile before turning back to James, who you could tell was reigning in his overprotectiveness. 

“C’mon, girly. One won’t hurt.” He pressed the bottle closer. “You’re not even buzzed, I can tell.” 

You stayed friendly but your tone was firmer. “I promise I’m fine. I’m sure someone else wants another though.” You cut your eyes to Remus and Sirius and their pile of empty beer and cider bottles next to them, laying scattered like an army fallen. 

“You sure?” The man sing-songed, pressing the cold bottle to your neck, wet with condensation. You flinched away. 

“Mate, pack it in. She said she didn’t want any.” James pulled you closer protectively. He wasn’t necessarily harsh, but the lack of joviality in his tone was chilling for those who know him well. The man took on a defensive nature, but was still attempting to appease James. 

“I’m doing this for you man.” He waggled his brows at James knowingly. “I’m sure she’s loads more fun loosened up.” You felt James stiffen but he didn’t have a chance to respond before the man looked at you, half joking, half irritation. “C’mon stop being such a frigid bitch and have a drink.” 

James shot up, swiftly moving so that he was between you and the man. “What the fuck did you just say?” The guy was floundering, backpedaling fast. 

“I’m just playing! Didn’t think you would be upset, shit.” He scooted away from your seething boyfriend. 

“You didn’t think I would be upset that you called my girlfriend a- that word? Are you really that fucking thick?” James snapped. He got closer to the guy's face before you tugged his hand. 

“James, calm down, it’s okay.” You stood up to gently tug him away. 

“Yeah, man. Listen to your bird-” He started, but then James snapped his head back, eyes ablaze. 

“McLaggen, mate, just leave.” Sirius said, harshly. 

“What? Sirius, c’mon. It’s a jo-” He stood up. Remus marched over, helping him to get his stuff. 

“Well it wasn’t fucking funny. You don’t say that shit here.” Remus said coldly. Their chatter moved away as he marched the offending man away from the fire. James looked like he was going to yell something after him, but he stopped. 

“It’s okay, Jamie.” You soothed, pulling him away as well. 

“It’s not.” He reiterated. “I can’t belie- I’m so sorry angel. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” He hugged you tight. 

“I’m okay, he didn’t. You don’t need to be sorry. It was just a stupid guy, not nearly the worst I’ve encountered.” You laughed.

“That does not make it better.” He huffed like an angry puppy. “I can’t believe some people think that’s an okay thing to call a girl. My mam would’ve had my head if I ever said that.” 

“Not everyone is as amazing as you, honey. And a lot of people are worse than that guy.” You rubbed a hand up and down his tense arm. 

He at you wide-eyed. “Okay, well firstly, someone isn't 'amazing' for not being an asshole, that's just not being horrendous. And secondly.” He was half concern half immense confusion. “Who all has been like that to you? How many lads have been like him? I want names and dates, lovely.” 

“James,” You lovingly scoffed. “I love you. I love how protective you are of me, but I really am okay. Some people are just dickheads, it’s part of life.” 

He grunted, pulling you back into his arms. “Just because it's a part of life doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He kissed the top of your head firmly. “I love you too.” 

“Do you want to go back?” You asked softly, rubbing the thick curls at the base of his neck.

“Can we stay like this for a bit longer? I just- need to hold onto you.” His biceps strained around you from how tightly you were being held.

You nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his comforting scent. “Okay.”

[weird-is-life]

hi lovely! a p vague request if you’re up for it!! remus x fem!/gn! reader fluff<3 he’s just painfully pining for her, getting a bit jealous when she’s hit on by other guys. they’re hanging out one night and it gets cold, so he gives her his jacket thinking the jacket could not look better on anyone else!

take the fic wherever you want babes! i’m just obsessed w your writing & the idea of lupin pining

Hii lovely, ty you so much for this cute request and I'm so so glad you enjoy my writing🥹🥹🥹. Warnings: fluff, use of y/n and pet names, mentions of pub,(0.8k)

It's Friday night, so of course the pub is stuffed with people. But Remus wasn't expecting, that you'd be getting hit on by so many guys, even if the pub is overcrowded.

He thinks, that if one more guy comes up to you and invites you for a drink, he won't be able to stop himself from beating him up.

To your credit tho, you've sent the guys running to the other side of the pub with your rejections. You are not even slightest bit interested in anybody, other than Remus.

The cheeky smirks, that Sirius and James keep sending his way aren't helping one bit either. They obviously know of Remus's crush on you and they keep pulling his leg about not making a move on you yet.

"You okay?" you nudge him with your elbow. Another thing that isn't helping with his intense feelings for you right now, is that you've been sitting next to him the whole night.

He breaks out of his thoughts and smiles at you, " of course. I'm perfect," he lies, but he can't tell you the truth. He's not ready for a rejection from you, he doesn't think he'll ever be ready for it.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I'm okay, I promise," he's not, but he doesn't tell you that. You seem happy with his answer, because you smile at him sweetly as you always do.

"Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure, before I left," you say as you start to gather your things to leave.

"You're leaving?" Remus asks quickly,  making a poor job of masking his disappointment.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I'd love to stay, but I have to get up early tomorrow," you say very apologetic.

"Don't be," he replies and adds without thinking, " I'll go with you. I'm feeling tired, too."

It's not exactly a lie, he feels a bit tired, but also he wants to spend some more time with you and more importantly, he doesn't want you to go home alone.

"Oh, okay." You don't question it and just nod. You say your goodbyes to everyone and leave. The boys wink teasingly at him to which Remus only rolls his eyes.

You walk side by side outside and Remus is quick to a hail a taxi for you two. In the meantime, you start to get cold. You didnt't realise, when you were dressing up, how much the temperature lowers after it gets dark in the autumn.

Finally, Remus manages to get a taxi and you eagerly get inside of it, thinking the heat is on, but you're wrong. The driver doesn't seem to mind the cold, because inside the taxi, the temperature is the same as outside.

Remus, attentive as always, notices you shivering.

"Here," he shrugs off his jacket and puts in around your shoulders, before you can even protest.

"Rem, thank you, but are you sure, you won't mind? I don't want you to be cold, too," you frown at him worriedly.

"I'm not cold, don't worry, dove. Just keep it," he smiles warmly at you, making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. And fuck, the pet name almost makes you pass out.

The sight of you in his jacket is doing no good for Remus either, he feels like he's been hit by a hammer over and over again, making him dizzy.

"Besides, you might as well keep it. It looks like hundred times better on you," he bravely compliments you and your heart almost does a flip from it.

Your cheeks go embarrassingly red and you both stay quiet with little smiles on, until it's your time to get out of the car.

"Goodnight, Remus, thank you for seeing me off," you give him a quick hug and get out.

You are hallway up the stairs to your apartment, when you hear his voice.

"Y/N, please wait," he catches up to you, his hand gently grabs yours.

"What is it-" your questions gets interrupted by his lips on yours. The only thought on your mind is that how soft they feel, but from the surprise of it, you don't kiss him back.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have, I'm sorry-" he worriedly spills out and swiftly turns around to leave. You don't let him, it's your turn to grab his arm and kiss him.

Remus handles the shock of it better than you and kisses you back hard.

When you finally pull away, you are both smiling like some crazy idiots.

"I wanted do this for so long," he confesses, sheepishly. Running his hands through your hair, putting some loose strands away from your pretty face.

"Me, too," you say, " I guess, we are both stupidly oblivious, huh?"

You and Remus laugh," yeah, we are. But not anymore."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely. I like you, like a lot, if you haven't realised it by now," Remus whispers as he caresses your cheek softly.

"I like you too," you grin at him, very happy from the not so new information. It feels so good to finally be able to say it to him.

"Good." He says, smiling and leans in to kiss you warmly again.

[empressdede]

Disrespectful

Chapter Two

After that interaction, London tried her best to create some distance between her and Roman. She would avoid his calls, texts messages and if she did finally get back to him, she would decline any outing he would invite her to.

She didn’t trust herself around him. She knew the longer she kept herself around him, the more she would want to jump his bones. The little moment between them made her feel like a horny teenager all over again. She had no business at her big ass age of 34, dry humping another man against the wall like she was some 16 year old virgin. And even though that’s all that they did; she couldn’t shake the memory away.

The way he held her up against the wall with ease, the way he grunted and groaned softly in her ear, and especially the way he demanded that she cum for him. Every time the thought entered her mind, It made her body shiver with want.

And that’s where her problem lied. She knows that she wants Roman; no matter how many times she tries to push it to the back of her head.

“You can’t keep avoiding him, London. Be a grown up and tell that man you need your space.” London’s sister, Nora, advised.

“I don’t have to do anything but be black and die when the time comes Nora. If I don’t want to talk to Roman right now, then I’m not. What we did at that party - his wife’s party no less - was a mistake. We’re both happly married and it needs to stay like that.”

“London, you’ve been with James since forever. Don’t you think this is your body telling you to venture out and try new things?”

“James is a good man Nora. I’m not going to ruin my relationship with my husband just because I’m feeling like I want a quick fix somewhere else.”

Nora rolled her eyes. “Girl, if James was beating the pussy up like he supposed to be doing, you wouldn’t have ran off with Roman in the first place. Then you ran off to go dry hump that man, bitch you ain’t never heard of no quickie?”

“Nora-“

“Bitch I’m being serious. If you was gonna step out anyway, you might as well have went out with a bang. Vibrator to the clit while he hitting it from the back & that 20 minutes could’ve been a whole fuckin round.”

Images immediately flashed through her mind as she thought about it. Her dress bunched up at her waist as he thrusted inside of her at a quick pace. Bodies close together so he could keep the vibrator to her clit and she could practically hear his voice in her ear. “I barely even started and look at you about to cum for me.”

London let out a sad sigh. Her sister’s didn’t help her with trying to push Roman to the back of her mind. If anything, Nora kept trying to push her straight into Roman’s arms.

“If I see him, I’m going to fuck him.” She admitted and Nora shrugged.

“So do that. James will always be here and who knows; maybe this is just a phase and you need him out of your system. Whatever the case may be, I say go for it.”

“You’re not even trying to give me good advice Nora. You keep telling me to cheat on my husband.”

“You already cheated girl and I wasn’t there to tell you that. You cheated emotionally and physically, you might as well just go all the way.”

Her sister’s words echoed in her head and she thought about it for a second, what it would really feel like to go all the way with Roman. She just knew he would snatch her breath away. She could almost feel him, a picturesque expression on his face as he took her hair into his hands pulling it towards him to stop her from hiding her moans. Damn…. She really did see it and even though she yearned to fall into temptation, London decides that she was going to stand on business.

She had a husband for everything she thinks she wants Roman for. She also decided that since she was going to be the woman she promised to be as a wife, she was going to throw herself into her work. What better way to distract herself from temptation than to work?

But Roman though? He was getting tired of waiting on London. He considered himself a realist - if he was going to be cheating on his wife, he was going to fulfill all the fantasies he had about London. They’ve tried to deny their sexual attraction towards each other for almost two years now; if she didn’t want him the same way he wants her then what happened two weeks ago wouldn’t have transpired. So after being ignored for two weeks, Roman decides he’s had enough. If London didn’t want to see him, so be it. Now he was going to go see her…. and with how distant she’s been he knew exactly where to find her.

"Mrs. Murphey, we have a Mr. Heyman downstairs waiting for you. He says it’s an emergency." Mariah states as she walks into London’s office. London lets out a tired sigh; she knew she didn’t have long before he started sending his minions to do his dirty work.

"Tell him I’m busy." London responds to her without even lifting her head to acknowledge her assistant. She didn’t really have time to entertain that bullshit today.

"Don’t seem that busy to me." She heard from where her assistant stood and her head snapped up to see Roman standing behind Mariah. And poor Mariah, she really tried her best, bless her heart but she knew when it came to Roman himself, he was going to finesse his way up here one way or another.

"Um sir you can’t be he-" Mariah tried to speak but Roman cut her off, keeping his dark brown orbs locked on London.

"You ready to talk to me like an adult?" He questioned. Mariah looked between the two of them, obviously sensing the tension but if her boss said she was busy, then she needed to get rid of this Mr. Heyman guy.

"Sir, you can’t be here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave or else I’m going to have security escort you out the building." Mariah warned. Roman stared at the younger woman in front of him with a blank face for a couple of seconds before laughing in her face.

"Okay lady, if you could close the door behind you, that would be great." He instructed, walking right past her to stand in front of London’s desk.

London finally snapped out of it when she got her over her feeling of shock from seeing him. "You don’t get to walk in here and tell my employees what to do. In this building, there’s only one person who runs it and that’s me." She enforced, getting up from her seat to glare at him. "Just like I can’t walk in yours and start telling Paul what to do."

"London-" Roman tried to speak again but was cut off by London’s assistant again.

"Um… Sir, you still need to leave."

"You can close the door behind you Mariah, you can leave. Let everyone know that I’m in a meeting and will be available afterwards. Come find me in 30 minutes." London instructed

"An hour." Roman replies, and this time he raises an eyebrow, challenging her to see if he wouldn’t keep her for the hour.

The two stared at each other for a while in silence, both of them challenging the other. London knew herself, an hour alone with Roman and she would be stepping out of her marriage. She also didn’t want him to think he had any power over her with his dumbass suggestion of having an hour of her time instead of 30. And as much as she didn’t want to admit it, the longer they glared at each other, waiting for the other to succumb in defeat, her sister’s words were ringing in her head.

"Maybe this is just a phase and you need him out of your system."

London finally rolled her eyes in defeat, turning to look at Mariah; "An hour. And not a second less."

When Mariah left, Roman let his eyes roam around her office. "You’ve been cooped up in here, I bet."

"What are you doing here Roman?" London asked getting straight to the point.

"You haven’t been texting me back for a while. So if you don’t want to talk over the phone, you definitely want to talk in person." Roman turned his head back to face London. "I can’t get you out of my head London, I keep hearing you cry out for me and when I try to call you to … talk… you don’t even pick up."

"Because you’re married Roman. To Tiara, not me. What we did a couple of weeks ago was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened."

"If that were the case, you wouldn’t have worn the panties I bought for you."

The room got silent, energy in the room changing as they stared each other down. London really didn’t want to fall into this trap. That’s what Roman was, coming in here with his tight collared shirt and slacks just to tempt her. A walking fucking trap.

“You could’ve just walked in wearing anything; But you didn’t.” Roman started, walking around the desk in slow calculated steps. Like a predator stalking its prey.

London watched him, and she couldn’t move even if she wanted to; it seemed as if her feet were glued to floor the closer Roman got to her. “You wore my dress and you put on those pretty panties just for me. It wasn’t a mistake… you wanted to cum for me that night; tell me I’m lying.”

With Roman standing right in front of her, she couldn’t really think. His scent was clouding her senses, she should be moving away from him, fighting her temptation. But he was telling the truth, she wanted him that night. Still wants him, she just doesn’t know how to go about it.

“Roman.” She whispered out but Roman didn’t want to listen to anything she had to say unless it was her crying out for him again.

“Tell me.” He demanded quietly, his hands moving to hold onto her waist to pull her into him. A gasp slipped through her lips, her eyes closing when she felt his nose trailing up her neck.

He planted a kiss under her ear before whispering in her ear, “Tell me you wanna cum for me London and I can make that happen for you.” He rasped out.

And she could practically hear Nora now.

Bitch stop fighting and fuck him already!

It was obvious Roman wanted her just as bad as she wanted him, and London was a weak woman.

“Make it happen then.” She replied almost challengingly and it caused Roman to smirk against her skin because he came on a mission.

________________

"Fuucckkk" She loudly moaned when he pushed himself back into her. Legs on his shoulders with his hands holding onto to the back of her thighs. The immense feeling made her forget she was still in her office, where if anyone got close enough, they could hear her. But Roman didn’t give a single fuck. And when he leaned forward, pressing his body closer to hers, which pushed her legs closer to her chest making it easier to get deeper she couldn’t help but get lost in the pleasure.

Loud moans were flying out of her mouth, and Roman’s eyes stared down into her with a dark look in them. She knew exactly what he was doing, that look told her everything she needed to know. He was trying to find her spot, with no other intensions other than abusing it until she was cumming in waves for him.

"You done runnin’ from me?" He asked tauntingly, and she knew he wasn’t talking about running from him during the activity they were currently partaking in. He wanted her to give into him every single time they had the chance to be like this.

He slid his hands down her thighs and pushed them down as close to her chest as they could get, looking down between them to watch his dick slide in and out of her enjoying the small white ring of cream she left coated on him. He slowed down his pace purposefully to sew how loud she would get whenever he hit somewhere new. London couldn’t remember the last time she felt like this.

She tried to bite onto her lower lip to keep from screaming every time he went in deeper. Muffled moans came from her, nails denting his skin as she latched onto his back. Roman looked back up to watch her, eyes squinting as he studied her expressions and slightly moved to the left to hit a new area. He felt her clench around him and watched her eyes water from that specific spot. Found it

"Ouuu shit." She cried out.

"Right there?" He questioned as if he didn’t already know.

"Yesss, right there." Roman started moving against it, poking at her spot faster and faster as he let one of her thighs go and slid his hands up her stomach and breasts until he reached her neck. She let another loud moan as he loosely squeezed her neck.

"You never answered my question, you done runnin’ from me?"

London wrapped her arm around the leg he let go so she wouldn’t be so sore, she was so lost in the pleasure she almost didn’t hear him. "Huh?" He questioned, as he kept poking at her spot even harder now staring right into her eyes. She kept eye contact, responding by moaning louder and nodding her head.

"I can’t hear you, you done runnin’ from me London? Huh? When I ask you to come see me, you gon come see me right?" He asked, squeezing her neck a little tighter as he thrusted even faster.

He could’ve asked her for the world in the same moment and she would’ve agreed to give it to him. That’s how good he was making her feel.

Tears spilled from her eyes as she felt her stomach tightened and she clenched down on him. "Yessss, I’m done runnin’ Roman Please."

"Please what? Tell me."

"I-" She was cut off by her own loud moan, feeling her eyes roll to the back of her head. Roman continued to relentlessly pound into her, pushing to make her cum for the fourth and final time.

"C’mon baby, beg for that shit." He teased, enjoying the mess he was leaving her in. This was what he wanted to do to her the first time and he was glad he was able to redeem himself. The only thing that could be heard were their heavy breathing, her constant moaning and their skin clapping against each other’s.

"Please. D-don’t stop please" She stuttered out as she felt her legs start to shake; she was on the verge of cumming again - this time she knew it was going to me much more intense then the last one.

"You gon cum for me?" And he really didn’t need to ask, she placed her hand on his stomach to try to get him to slow down. Roman let go of her neck and quickly used his thumb to rub on her clit as he hit her spot over and over again. Her hand slipped from his stomach and she tapped on the desk, she couldn’t hold it anymore.

At the sight of her literally tapping out, he smirked and it did nothing but boost his ego. "Go head baby, cum for me." He permitted and with a silent scream she let her body arch off her desk and came all over him. He let out a groan at how tight she clenched around him and quickly pulled out of her and stroked himself with a few pumps and emptied himself on top of her; staking his claim.

If cheating on his wife felt like this - he didn’t give a damn about the consequences.

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

It’s been a minute huh? Here’s the second part - and I promise you guy’s wont have to wait that long for the next part😭😭

Comment if you want to be added to the next part and please show me some love🥺🫶🏾

Tagging the lovelies: @whatdoeseverybodywant @theninthwonder @christinabae @2-muchsauce @alichesmi @pitlissa22 @sassginaswanmills @harmshake @po3ticb3auty @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @dersha89 @serena004 @reci1996 @scarlettnoir01 @venusesworld @kill-the-artiste @southerngirl41 @badbitchcentralinc @reignsboy19

[moonstruckme]

hey mae! it’s been awhile since i’ve sent an ask but im always reading your work girl! i love how you write tbh. if you’re up to it do you think you could write something with poly marauders, where the reader has trouble eating and making themself eat due to poor appetite. my appetite really does come and go and ever since covid (maybe before) it’s like eating makes me feel revolted. sometimes i just don’t feel like eating bc of other things like depression, adhd, anxiety. i was just wondering if you could write something with the boys helping out the reader with finding out what sounds good, cooking, and eating if possible. sometimes having someone around to talk to and hang out with makes it so much easier to deal -🌶️

Hey Pepper, thank you sm! And thanks for being patient with me <3

cw: lack of appetite, mention of skipping meals

poly!marauders x gn!reader ♡ 1.1k words

The sun’s going down, the last dregs of its light spilling brilliant and golden over the book in your lap, and you can feel your boyfriends starting to get restless. Well, two of them. 

“If we’re missing half the ingredients,” Sirius says, trailing James into the kitchen, “it’s not going to be any good.” 

James only tsks. “Ye of little faith. That’s what improvisation is for.” He starts pulling things down from the cabinet. 

“You’re not even going to glance at the recipe?” 

“I don’t need to. I know the general vibe.” 

“Help!” Sirius calls towards the living room. “He’s gone off the rails. Remus, come fix it.” 

Remus turns around to look over the back of the sofa, his shoulder brushing yours as he does. He’s sitting right up against you despite the couch being empty, not that you mind. Remus is sort of like a cat that wants to be near you but not always to be pet. His touches are often like this, passive gestures like a hand on your head or his thigh pressed against yours. It works for you just fine; you can feel the affection bleeding into you from any point of contact. 

“Don’t you think we should just eat out?” Sirius asks, tilting his head and doing that thing with his eyes that you all pretend doesn’t work on you. 

Impressively, Remus keeps his face impassive. “I’m having leftover brussels sprouts,” he replies, “so it’s not really my concern. Anyway, James has a good history with not following recipes.” 

“Exactly,” James says, grinning at Sirius, who scowls. But then he fixes his gaze on Remus. “So why are you having that, Rem? Have what I’m making.” 

“Because they’re going to go bad, and I’m not hungry enough for a big meal.” The last part is said somewhat quieter, directed towards the living room as he turns back around and picks up his own book. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see James frown, but he glances at Sirius and they seem to collectively decide not to push it. Remus’ appetite isn’t much better than yours. He has his better days, but it’s not uncommon for him not to feel up to what your other boyfriends would consider a whole meal or to eat only chocolate until Sirius hounds him into something more substantial. 

James looks to you hopefully. “You’ll have some, won’t you sweetheart?” 

You wince, hating to let him down, and from the look on James’ face he clocks the guilt in your expression before even you get a chance to say, “I don’t think I’m really up to it tonight, either.” 

James deflates, but he’s clearly trying to put on a brave face. “That’s alright. I think I’ll just save it for another night, then.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, setting your book facedown on the armrest and turning around to face him more fully. “You could still make it and just put leftovers in the freezer. Maybe I’ll have some tomorrow.” You wince again as soon as you say it. No promises, though.

The smile James gives you is comforting if not totally satisfied. “It’s okay. I’ll just make it another time, it’s not a problem.” 

You return his smile, close-lipped. Sirius is looking at you with narrowed eyes, arms crossed like he’s sizing you up. 

“What are you going to eat?” he asks. 

“Hm?” 

“What are you going to have instead?” You hesitate, and he tilts his head knowingly, a piece of hair slipping from behind his ear to drape over his shoulder. “You need to have something, especially since you didn’t have lunch.” 

From the kitchen, James looks at you. “You didn’t?” 

“I just…don’t feel like it.” It’s a feeble argument even to your own ears, and the look Sirius gives you says that he thinks so, too. 

“You can’t miss two meals,” he says obstinately. “Even Remus is having some brussels sprouts.”

You look to Remus to be offended at the even Remus comment, but he only shrugs. You’re on your own. 

“What sounds good?” he asks you. 

You try not to pout. “Nothing. Everything sounds gross.” 

“C’mon, baby.” Sirius leans against the countertop. “It doesn’t have to be strictly dinner food, yeah? Just anything that sounds like you’d be willing to eat it.” 

You think for a minute. Remus touches the back of his hand to your leg, knuckles soothing over the skin beside your knee. 

“I guess…ice cream sounds okay,” you say hesitantly. “But I know that’s not exactly nutritious…” 

“Would a milkshake be close enough?” James pipes up. 

You shrug. “I guess.” 

He grins. “I can do that for you, lovie. Just gimme a sec.” 

James is a loud cook. You go back to your book while cabinet doors slam and the blender whirs and there's a muffled “oh, shit” as something is undoubtedly dropped on the floor, but a minute later he’s bringing you a glass of something thick and chocolate-y looking. You smile at the added garnish of mint and a straw, reaching for it. 

“Thanks, Jamie.” 

He winks. “Anytime.” 

Remus is the only one courteous enough not to obviously watch while you take a sip, and you feel your eyebrows raise as you look up at James. 

“This is really good,” you say. He practically glows at the praise. “I didn’t even know we had chocolate ice cream.” 

Sirius barks a laugh, and James’ smile widens. 

“What?” you ask. 

“We don’t,” he admits. “Will it ruin your appetite if I tell you it’s not actually ice cream?” 

You shake your head, sucking at the straw. “I’m already drinking it, so.” 

James beams. He really is looking very proud of himself. “It’s a protein shake. A pretty balanced meal, actually.” 

“Oh, nice.” You grin at him, taking another hearty slurp mostly because you know it’ll please him. “It’s perfect, thank you.” 

“Gotta keep our sweetheart fed,” he says, bending down for a kiss. Sirius and Remus’ hums of approval nearly harmonize, and you and James share an elated look while they both do their best to pretend like it didn’t happen. 

“Can I try?” Remus asks, and you tilt the cup towards him in invitation. 

He wraps his lips around your straw, sipping hesitantly. He looks mildly impressed. 

“Could you make me one of those too?” 

From the look on James’ face, he’d be delighted to. “Course, love.” He plants a smacker on Remus’ cheek and nearly knocks Sirius over as he beelines for the kitchen. 

“This is just excellent,” Sirius gripes, but you see the satisfaction in his expression. “Now that you two have blown up his ego, I’ll have to eat something he makes too.” 

“Correct,” James says brightly. “And you should be so lucky.”