#let! them! rest!!!! and by them i mean EVERYONE!!!

[rafayelxsylusho]

How do the lads men act when jealous Part 2

Part 1 here (Zayne/Xavier)

Finally finished this.

Enjoy pookies!

Sylus/ Rafayel/Caleb

You find yourself in the midst of a lively discussion with a handsome stranger at the auction Sylus had insisted on attending together. The conversation flows effortlessly between you, a charming man named Elias. He's a renowned artist, his eyes sparkling with intellect as he regales you with tales of his latest exhibition.

As the minutes tick by, you become increasingly aware of Sylus's absence. He had been by your side when you first arrived, a possessive hand resting on the small of your back as he steered you through the crowded room. But now, as you laugh at one of Elias's jokes, you realize you haven't seen him in quite some time.

You glance around the room, scanning the faces of the guests, but there's no sign of Sylus.

Elias leans in closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. "You know, I have a feeling you and I have much more in common than just a love of art. You think that maybe... I can get your number?

"Do you value your ability to breathe without a tube down your throat?"

Your heart leaps in your throat at the sound of that voice. You recognize it instantly.

Elias's eyes widen and he takes a small step back from you, hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

"Easy there, Sylus," Elias says, his charming smile fading into a strained grin. "No need for threats. I was just being friendly."

Sylus steps into view, his dark silhouette looming behind you. His broad shoulders straining against the fabric of his tailored suit jacket. His eyes are fixed on Elias, a dangerous glint in their depths.

"Friendly?" Sylus repeats, a note of amusement in his voice. "Is that what you call it?" His gaze flickers to you for a moment, his expression softening almost imperceptibly before hardening once more as he turns back to Elias. "I've seen how friendly you can get"

Sylus takes another step forward, closing the distance between them. Elias swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He glances at you, then back at Sylus, and you can see the calculation in his eyes as he weighs his options.

"Look, I didn't mean any disrespect..."

"You're not worthy of so much as a single digit of her phone number. I suggest you forget you ever met her, and move along before I lose my patience entirely."

Elías clears his throat awkwardly and takes a step back "Well, it was... nice chatting with you," he says lamely, before turning and melting into the crowd, leaving you alone with Sylus.

"Was that really necessary? I was just about to say no Sy"

His thumb brushes across your lower lip, the gesture almost tender if not for the harsh set of his mouth. "Let's get out of here. I have far better plans for us tonight."

With that, he takes your hand, his grip unyielding as he begins to steer you towards the exit. His anger is palpable, but there's something else you can't quite name.

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As you walk to your room Sylus can't help but notice the shift in your mood. The lively sparkle in your eyes from earlier has been replaced by a troubled look. He watches as you walk ahead of him, your shoulders slightly slumped, your steps hesitant.

Closing the door behind you Sylus sets his jacket down on a nearby chair before turning to face you. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, his brow furrowed as he studies your face with an intensity that makes you squirm slightly.

"Talk to me," he says finally, his voice cutting through the heavy silence of the room. "What's bothering you?"

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself before you speak. "Sylus, I need you to listen to me for a moment. There was no need for you to behave like that back at the auction. You embarrassed Elias in front of everyone."

You shake your head, a flicker of disappointment in your eyes. "An arrogant display like that, threatening him just for talking to me? It was completely uncalled for."

Putting your hands on your hips, you level your gaze at Sylus, your voice firm but calm. "I understand that you want to protect me. But you can't go around intimidating people who cross an imaginary line in your head."

He takes a step closer, invading your personal space. He towers over you, his broad shoulders blocking out the light. His voice is low and tight with barely contained anger when he speaks.

"I've known Elias for years, sweetie. He's a womanizer, plain and simple. I've seen that predatory look in his eyes before, the one he gets when he sets his sights on a new conquest. And tonight, he had it directed at you."

His eyes burn into yours, the red irises seeming to glow with the force of his possessiveness "He knew you were with me. I made sure of that when I introduced you earlier. But he didn't care, did he? No, he just saw a beautiful woman and decided he wanted to add you to his list of fucks."

You plant your palms firmly against his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. You push back against him, your voice steady and unwavering as you meet his intense gaze head on.

"I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I've been doing it for years before I even met you."

Your eyes flash with a spark of determination and a hint of annoyance. "I'm a Deepspace Hunter, Sylus. I've faced down Wanderers, I've battled for my life and the lives of others. I think I can handle a little flirtation from a guy like that"

A sly smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you tilt your head. "Or, and hear me out on this...maybe you were just jealous. Green as the hills, if you will."

You lean in closer, your lips nearly brushing against his as you whisper teasingly, "Is that what this is really about? You couldn't stand the thought of Elias looking at me like that because you want to be the only one with the right to crave me like that?"

Your fingertips walk playfully up his chest, tracing the line of his collarbone. "You know, it's okay to admit it. Jealousy doesn't make you weak, it makes you...human. It means you care, deeply and intensely and maybe just a little bit possessively."

You nip lightly at his bottom lip, your voice a low purr. "So go on, Sylus...admit it. Because I think that's exactly what happened back there. And you know what? It's okay. I can handle a little jealousy, as long as it comes from the right man."

"Lie down" he orders

You don't move, still processing his words, but you see his hands undo his pants then push them down his hips.

"Kitten, lay down on that fucking bed right now."

As you settle against the silk sheets, he finishes removing the last of his clothing, his shirt and underwear dropping to the floor. His erection springs free, long, hard and already leaking at the tip.

Your whispered "Oh god" reaches his ears. Sylus grins, stalking towards the bed until he looms over you. He leans down, one hand braced on either side of your head as he settles between your thighs.

"You sure you want to feed my ego like that? You already think I'm an arrogant asshole and the way you are staring at my cock is about to make me insufferable"

He rolls his hips slowly, his hard length brushing against your thigh through the thin fabric of your dress. The friction makes him groan softly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

You sit up and his eyes darken as he watches you strip, his gaze roaming greedily over every inch of skin you reveal. When you reach for the lace tops of your stockings, he stops you "Keep those on."I want to see you in nothing but those. Want to feel the lace against your soft skin as I fuck you."

His large hands grip your hips tightly, flipping you over onto your hands and knees with a sudden, dominant move. Before you can react, he's running his palms over the curves of your ass, squeezing and kneading the supple flesh.

"Fuck, your ass is perfect," he growls, his fingers digging into your skin as he spreads your cheeks apart

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks "I want to see you arch your back for me. Want to watch this ass lift up and beg for my cock as I take you from behind."

One hand slides around to the front of your body, his fingers pushing your panties aside to stroke through your folds and then without warning, he grips the fabric and yanks hard, the material tearing away easily in his strong grasp. The cool air hits your now bare sex as you feel the rough lace scrape against your skin for a brief moment before it's ripped away completely.

"Sylus!" you cry out in surprise and a hint of pain. Your hips jerk forward instinctively and red marks bloom on your hipbones.

"Ass up, kitten," he commands, before you can react, he's pushing your upper body down against the mattress, leaving your back arched and your ass high in the air.

You feel the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and then with one hard thrust, he's burying himself inside you to the hilt. Your gasp of surprise mixes with his low groan of pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," Sylus grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he starts to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in.

"You're so fucking big Sy"

"But you take it all like a good girl, don't you?"

You feel him set a hard, fast pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. He leans over your back, his chest pressed against you as he fucks into you relentlessly.

"Fuck, can you feel me deep inside your hot little cunt? Gonna fill you up until I run down those pretty stockings."

He feels your walls clench tight around his cock when he rubs your swollen clit. "Fuck, that's it. You're getting close, aren't you?"

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Come on my cock, kitten."

But that's not your plan.

He growls in frustration as you slip his cock out of your dripping pussy, tight walls clenching around nothing. He grabs you roughly by the waist, dragging your pleasure drunk body back against his chest. "No, no, get that sweet cunt back on my dick," he demands.

But you ignore his command, instead dragging your hand down to plunge your fingers deep inside your aching, empty core. You pump them in and out, fucking yourself with wild abandon, chasing the release that Sylus's relentless pounding brought you to the brink of.

"Fuck, Y/N I swear to god..."

Sylus watches in awe and disbelief as your body jerks and writhes against him, your back arching as you bring yourself to a shattering climax. He can feel your moan in his stomach, your pussy clenching and fluttering around your fingers as you cum hard.

" Are you kidding me?"

You laugh, pat his cheek, peck his lips and move away when he tries to kiss you deeply.

"Thank you, that was so good Sy"

He watches as you stand and stretch languidly. He licks his lips, practically drooling at the delicious image you make.

"Oh, so we're playing now, are we kitten?" He chuckles, he grips his thick shaft and pumps it slowly, teasingly. "You wanna watch me touch myself?

He spreads his legs wider, giving you an unobstructed view of his muscled body and the way his hand works over his huge, throbbing erection. "I could watch you watch me all day, sweetie."

Sylus's tongue darts out to lick his lips, his gaze never leaving yours as he pleasures himself. "You want to help, don't you kitten? Wanna wrap your lips around the head and suck me deep?"

He climbs off the bed and tosses a pillow at your feet as he stalks towards you. "For your knees, it's a hard floor"

The musky scent of his arousal fills your nostrils as you kneel before him on the pillow, your eyes level with his throbbing erection. He positions his painfully engorged cock in front of your face, the swollen head glistening with a bead of precum.

Fisting his cock he aims it at your lips and asks "May I?"

You hear him groan deeply when you nod and open your mouth, your pink tongue out and ready.

He pushes forward, the swollen head of his dick slipping past your lips and settling on your outstretched tongue. "Ungh, yes..." He throws his head back with a guttural moan as he hilts inside you, your nose pressing against his pelvis. 

"I could live inside your mouth, buried deep in your throat. Be a good girl and make me cum"

He hisses in pleasure as you gurgle and moan around him. Tears stream down your face as he fucks your throat raw, his thick cock pounding in and out, stretching your lips around his girth. You taste the salty tang of his skin, feel the hot, hard flesh throbbing against your tongue.

"I'm cumming!" Sylus grunts, his voice tight with strain as his hips stutter and still. He tries to pull back, but your hands grasp his ass, holding him deep inside as you feel his cock pulse and jerk.

The sensation of your teeth accidentally scraping his sensitive flesh sends Sylus over the edge. His hot, thick cum shooting down your throat in spurts. You swallow, gulping down every drop of his release, feeling it coat your throat and slide into your belly.

As the last weak spurts of cum dribble from his spent cock, you pull back, gasping for air. Sylus's thumb traces up the column of your throat, feeling the way it works as you swallow the remnants of his load.

"Greedy, feisty kitten," he praises with smirk, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath.

His strong arms scoop under your elbows, easily lifting you up from your kneeling position. He holds you close, your naked body pressing against his. "Now, how about you let me cum inside you this time, kitten?"

"I think that one is the best tonight" a deep, smooth voice startled you from behind. 

You were admiring Rafayel's breathtaking artwork adorning the gallery walls, you've seen them, but somehow they looked different here.

Slightly caught off guard, you turned to face the man, taking in his handsome features and the way his eyes, as blue as the ocean on a clear day, seemed to sparkle with enthusiasm as he spoke about Rafayel's paintings.

The man introduced himself as Liam, an art critic with an impressive resume and an even more impressive knowledge of the art world.

As the conversation flowed, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and admiration for Rafayel. His gift was truly remarkable, and it was clear that others recognized and appreciated his talent as much as you did. Liam talked to you about Rafayel's rise to fame, his groundbreaking exhibitions, and his ability to command astronomical prices for his one of a kind pieces.

As you spoke, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you.

" I see you've met my wife"

You see Liam's eyes go wide as he flashes a smile "Oh wow, I... I didn't know you two were married"

You look over your shoulder to Rafayel with a scowl before returning to Liam "We are not, he is kidding, we are just friends"

"Like hell we are, that's not what you were saying last night when my tongue was in your..."

Rafayel's smirk only grew wider as your hand clamped over his mouth, muffling his words. He let you drag him away, stumbling slightly as you pulled him down a long, dimly lit hallway of the art gallery.

"You're such a tease, you know that?" he mutters against your hand, his hot breath tickling your skin.

His hand finds yours, fingers interlocking as he allows you to lead him deeper into the gallery, away from prying eyes and ears.

As you walk, his gaze rakes over you, hungry and intense. You can feel the heat of his stare, the way it lingers on the curve of your hip, the sway of your ass. It's a tangible thing, a physical caress that makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.

You walk into a small office and close the door behind you, the air is thick with the scent of oil paints, turpentine, and something else, something musky and masculine. Rafayel's scent, you realize, your heart pounding in your chest as he backs you up against a wall, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head.

"Friends, huh?" he murmurs "Is that really what you want people to think?"

"Thomas is gonna be looking for you"

"Fuck Thomas. Fuck the gallery. Fuck everything else."

His hands slide down the wall to your hips, gripping them possessively as he pulls your body flush against his.

One hand moves from your hip to your thigh, his fingers dance along the sensitive skin. He teases, he taunts, drawing out the anticipation until you're squirming against him, desperate for more.

Then, without warning, his hand is under your dress, his fingers seeking out your most intimate place. They find your core, slick, swollen and aching for his touch.

"Do you drip down your thighs for all your friends?" He pinches your clit, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers. Pleasure explodes through you, making your back arch and your toes curl in your shoes. Your eyes flutter shut, your head falling back against the wall as a broken moan escapes your lips.

"I don't think you do," Rafayel murmurs, his breath hot against your neck. "Because this mess, it's all for me cutie.

He pushes two fingers deep inside you, pumping them in and out, fucking you with his hand. "Does it feel like I'm your friend," he rasps, "when I bury my face between these thighs and eat this sweet pussy like it's my fucking job?" His fingers pump faster, harder, the sound of your arousal filling the small office.

"Or maybe," he continues, his other hand sliding up your body to roughly palm your breast, tweaking your nipple through the thin fabric of your dress, "when you're bouncing on my cock, taking every thick inch like you were made for it, screaming my name as you cum harder than you ever have in your life..."

He leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. "Is that friendship bonding?"

"Fuck" he growls, his hips rocking forward to grind the rigid length of his cock against your thigh. "You squeeze my fingers just like you squeeze my cock when I'm buried deep inside you"

He moves his fingers faster, harder, his thumb presses down hard on your clit, rubbing merciless circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"You're so fucking wet, cutie," Rafayel pants "I can feel it coating my hand, dripping down my wrist. Is that for me, y/n?

He leans down, lips latching onto the side of your neck, sucking and biting at the tender flesh.

He wastes no time, his desperation palpable as he yanks you towards the desk. The room spins briefly as he spins you around and bends you over the edge, your stomach pressing against the cool, smooth surface. Your skirt is flipped up and over in one swift motion.

He yanks down his zipper, freeing his fat cock. It springs out, slapping against your inner thigh, leaving a smear of precum on your skin.

His hands grip your hips as he positions himself. His chest presses against your back, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as he leans down to murmur in your ear.

"Can I fuck you?" he asks "Can I fuck you properly, cutie?

Your hands reach for the edge of the desk, gripping it tightly as you nod. Your body trembling with need, your core clenching and fluttering around nothing, aching to be filled by him.

"Please," you breathe out, arching your back to push your ass firmly against his hips.

Rafayel pulls your panties to the side and hilts himself inside you with one thrust, burying his thick cock to the base of your needy cunt. He stands still for a moment, his hips flush against your ass, allowing you to feel every throbbing inch of him pulsing deep within your core.

As he remains motionless, your hips start to move on their own accord, rocking back against him, desperate for friction, for stimulation, for more. The desk creaks beneath you with the force of your movements, the sound mingling with the ragged pants and moans spilling from your lips.

"Please Raf..." you whimper. Your walls clench around his shaft, trying to keep him deep inside you.

Rafayel chuckles "Please what, cutie?" he teases, his hips still unmoving, his cock throbbing but unmoving inside you. "What are you begging for? You're the one fucking me."

His hips start to move, pulling out until just the tip remains inside you, before slamming back in, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

"When I'm pounding this tight cunt, claiming this pussy as mine, it's not friendly fucking," he growls, punctuating his words with sharp snaps of his hips. "This is me showing you who you belong to. This is me reminding you that..."

He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub. "It's all fucking mine. You're mine Y/N. This is me taking what's already mine."

The office door handle jiggles and Rafayel's eyes flash with a thrill of danger. He grins at the interruption, not slowing his relentless pace for a second.

"Maybe it's that hot shot critic, maybe he heard you. That would make things clear for him"

Your body jerks forward from the force of his thrusts, a desperate moan tearing from your throat. "So let them hear, let the whole fucking world know"

Rafayel feels your body tense and then shudder violently as his words and the relentless pounding of his cock finally push you over the edge. Your walls clamp down on him, rippling and fluttering as you come undone.

Rafayel looks down, his eyes dark and wild with lust as he watches your clench around his cock.

Then, he sees it. The creamy ring forming at the base of his shaft where your tight cunt is stretched around his thick girth. It's too much, too fucking perfect. With that Rafayel loses control, slamming into you one last time as his cock jerks and pulses inside you.

He grinds his pelvis against your ass, making sure to push every last drop deep inside you.

He slowly pulls out of you, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the sensation of your walls clinging to his softening cock. As he takes a step back, he looks down at your trembling body bent over the desk, your thighs glistening with the combined essence of your mutual pleasure.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he leans down, trailing a finger through the creamy trails dripping down your skin.

"Such a perfect piece of art," he murmurs, his voice low and awed. "Look at you, cutie. Look at the fucking masterpiece we've created."

He brings his finger to his lips, sampling the tangy flavor of your joining, his eyes never leaving your body. "Maybe I should put you out there, just like this, as my magnum opus, a live exhibit," he continues, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, smearing a dollop of his release there.

His hand cups your chin and tilts your face up to meet his eyes. "Wouldn't that be a sight, cutie?

Your heart clenches as you stare at the paused video on your phone screen, the beautiful woman's smiling face frozen beside Caleb's. An unfamiliar, bitter taste coats your tongue, jealousy, you realize with a start. You swallow hard, trying to dislodge the uncomfortable feeling lodged in your throat.

Caleb's laughter echoes in your mind. That laughter, that beautiful, rare sound, belonged to you. Only you. And seeing it, hearing it, directed at someone else... it feels like a betrayal.

You know you shouldn't feel this way. Caleb is your partner in every sense but one. You've shared everything together since childhood ,laughter, tears, secrets, dreams. But this... this hollow ache in your chest, this burning in your throat... it's new. Terrifying.

Still, as you sit there, gripping your phone like a lifeline, you can't help but wonder... what if Caleb sees her as more than just a friend? What if she sees him the same way you... the way you... can't stop yourself from seeing him?

Your heart sinks as you refresh the page again and again, desperation clawing at your throat. Gone. Vanished like a ghost. The video, your proof, your reason to feel this way... erased without a trace.

A hollow emptiness settles in the pit of your stomach as you toss your phone aside, no longer caring when it clatters onto the cold hardwood floor. It's fitting, really. Just like everything else that matters to you, it's slipping away.

Your mind replays the fleeting images from the video on an endless loop. Caleb's smile, her smile, their laughter. The way she leaned in close to whisper in his ear. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed. The way your heart shattered into a million jagged pieces.

A single tear slips down your cheek, followed by another. And another. Until they're falling in earnest, silent cries of a soul in agony. A soul that yearns for a love it can never have. A love that's slipping away, like grains of sand through an hourglass.

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You wake to the familiar buzz of your phone on the nightstand, your heart leaping with a foolish hope before you remember. Last night, Gideon's video, the hollow ache in your chest... it all comes rushing back like a bitter tide. He didn't text you last night. Not a single word, not even the usual goodnight message that you've come to expect and secretly crave.

You roll over and grab your phone, staring at the screen as it blinks with an incoming message.

A new message from Caleb. Just like every other morning. Just like clockwork.

Good morning, pipsqueak. Did you eat breakfast already?

You stare at the message and you answer, you always do.

Just waking up now. You know I'm not a morning person.

You hit send before you can overthink it, before the bitter taste of jealousy can creep back into your mouth.

You busy yourself with the mundane tasks of getting ready, trying to push away the lingering ache in your chest. You choose an outfit on autopilot, not really caring what you wear. A simple t-shirt and jeans will have to do.

You get another message and you glance at your phone, expecting to see Caleb's name flashing on the screen. But instead, you find a message from Tara. You hesitate, your thumb hovering over the notification. Going out isn't really your thing, not with everything that's been weighing on your mind lately.

Hey girl! Wanna hit up that new club downtown tonight? I heard it's lit af. ;) What do you say, bestie?

You stare at the message, reading it over and over again. Normally, you'd decline. Make up some excuse about being tired or having too much work to do. But tonight... tonight you need a distraction. Anything to get your mind off things.

Before you can overthink it, you type out a reply, your fingers moving on their own accord.

Sure, why not. Count me in. ;) Pick me up at 7?

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You step back from the full length mirror, your eyes traveling the length of the dress Tara lent you. It's a shimmering midnight blue number, the fabric clinging to your curves in all the right places. But it's the length, or lack of that has you second guessing this entire idea.

The hemline sits dangerously high on your thighs, barely grazing the tops of your legs. It's a far cry from your usual casual attire of jeans and t-shirts. You're not used to showing so much skin, to feeling so exposed.

As if sensing your hesitation, Tara appears behind you in the reflection, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. She places her hands on your shoulders, squeezing gently.

"You look smoking hot! Why the long face?" she asks, her brow furrowing in concern.

You bite your lower lip, worrying it between your teeth. "I don't know, Tara. I just...I'm not used to wearing something so...revealing.

Just tonight y/n," Tara reassures you "You deserve to let loose a little after all the hard work you've been putting in. A night out with the girls will do you good."

You know she's right. It has been a while since you last went out and had some real fun. Work has consumed most of your waking hours, and the rest has been spent...thinking about him. Him and her. Him and his laugh that wasn't meant for you.

Lost in thought, you hardly register the short walk to Tara's car. Before you know it, you're sliding into the passenger seat, the leather cool against your bare thighs.

As Tara pulls out onto the main road, you suddenly remember something. Or rather, forget something. You reach for your phone instinctively before remembering that you left it on Tara's dresser.

"Crap, I forgot my phone," you groan.

Tara glances at you, one eyebrow arched. "Do you want to go back and get it?" she asks, already slowing down to pull over to the side of the road.

You hesitate for a moment, weighing the pros and cons. In the end, you shake your head. "No, it's okay. I think I'm good without it for one night"

You settle back into the leather seat, watching the city lights blur past the window as Tara speeds towards the new club downtown.

As the night goes on, you find yourself getting lost in the music, the pulsing beats vibrating through your body as you dance with your friends. The alcohol buzzes warmly in your veins and for a few hours, you allow yourself to forget. To forget the jealousy and heartache that's been consuming you.

You're sandwiched between Tara and another friend, the three of you bouncing and swaying in sync to the pounding beat. Suddenly, a cute guy with a charming smile appears in front of you.

"Hey there," he shouts over the music, leaning in close so you can hear him. "I'm Jason. Wanna dance?"

He extends a hand, his smile widening. Normally, you might have been hesitant, or even said no. But tonight, with the alcohol coursing through your veins and the music pumping you up, you find yourself nodding.

"Sure," you reply, taking his hand and letting him pull you closer.

As the two of you begin to dance, you feel a flicker of excitement. It's nice, being desired. Being wanted. Even if it's not by...him. You push the thought away, refusing to let it ruin this moment.

Jason is a good dancer, his movements confident. He spins you around, pulling you back in close, his hands resting on your hips. You find yourself laughing, the music and the moment overwhelming you in the best way possible.

For a brief instant, you allow yourself to imagine that this could be more than just a dance. That this cute guy could be someone you could see yourself with. But then reality sets in, and you remember the truth:

Your heart belongs to someone else. Someone you can never have. No matter how hard you try to forget, how much you drink, or how many cute guys you dance with.

The room spins as you feel Jason kiss you, his lips foreign and unfamiliar against your own. Your eyes flutter closed, trying to lose yourself in the sensation, desperate to forget the man who truly owns your heart. But as you press your mouth harder against his, you realize that this kiss...it's all wrong.

His lips are too thin, not soft and plush like...like Caleb's. The shape is different, the feel of them unfamiliar. And his breath...it doesn't smell like sweet apples.

A pang of disappointment shoots through you as the realization hits this isn't the kiss you've been dreaming of. This isn't the man you've been longing for. This is just a cruel imitation, a poor substitute for the real thing.

You pull back, breaking the kiss abruptly. Jason looks startled for a moment before a confused frown crosses his face. You open your mouth to say something, to apologize or explain, but no words come out.

Instead, you feel a wave of nausea roll over you, the alcohol you've consumed churning uncomfortably in your stomach. You stumble back from Jason, pressing a hand to your mouth as you try to hold back the urge to vomit.

"Excuse me," you mutter, not meeting his eyes as you turn and push your way through the crowd on the dance floor.

You make it to the bathroom just in time, collapsing in front of the toilet and retching violently. Tears stream down your face as you empty the contents of your stomach, the bitter taste of regret and self loathing coating your tongue.

You splash some cold water on your face, staring at your reflection in the mirror, eyes red and puffy, your makeup smeared from crying and the heat of the club. But looking back at you is the face of a girl who's in love with someone she can never have. A girl who's trying desperately to forget, but failing miserably.

You stumble out of the bathroom, still feeling shaky and off balance.The last person you expect to see tonight is standing right there in front of you, his tall frame unmistakable even in the low light.

Caleb.

He's dressed in button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and dark jeans that hug his muscular thighs. His hair is slightly tousled, like he's been running his fingers through it in agitation. And his eyes...his eyes are fixed on you, a stormy violet that betrays his emotions.

Your eyes widen in shock as Caleb strides towards you, his long legs eating up the distance between you in just a few quick steps. Before you can react, he's upon you, his large hands gripping your waist. In one almost effortless motion, he hoists you up and over his shoulder, leaving your head dangling down his back.

"Caleb!" you yelp, instinctively grabbing onto his shirt to steady yourself. "What are you doing? Put me down!"

But he ignores your protests, his grip on your thighs tightening as he turns to stalk out of the club. Tara watches in stunned silence, her mouth hanging open.

"Oh, hey Caleb," she starts to say, but he cuts her off before she can finish.

"Do you have a way to get home safely?" he asks, his voice low and gruff.

"Yes," Tara replies, her eyes flicking to you in confusion and a hint of concern.

Without waiting for her to finish, Caleb starts walking, carrying you through the crowded club. You bounce and jostle with each step, your dress riding up dangerously high on your thighs. You can feel the cool air on your exposed skin, the fabric of his shirt rough against your cheek.

"Caleb, stop!" you cry, pounding your fist against his back. "You can't just take me like this! I can walk on my own."

But he remains silent, his jaw clenched tight as he pushes through the crowd. You catch glimpses of the curious stares and whispers as he passes.

Soon, the loud music fades behind you as Caleb bursts out of the club and into the cool night air. The sudden change in temperature makes you shiver, and you instinctively press closer to the warmth of his body.

He doesn't stop until he reaches a sleek, black car parked at the curb. With a grunt, he yanks open the passenger door and unceremoniously dumps you onto the leather seat. You land with a thud, the breath knocked out of your lungs temporarily.

Before you can scramble away, he's sliding into the driver's seat beside you, slamming the door shut. The sound of it clicking closed makes you jump, and you shrink back against the far window, eyeing him warily.

"What the hell, Caleb?" you demand, your voice shaking slightly from the cold and the shock of being so abruptly kidnapped. "Why did you just do that? I can't believe you!"

He doesn't respond right away, his grip tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. The engine hums loudly in the tense silence between you as he starts driving.

Finally, he slams on the brakes, the car jerking to a halt. He turns to face you, his eyes blazing with an emotion you can't quite place anger, jealousy, pain?

"Did you enjoy it?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "Did you enjoy what you were doing back there with him?"

You glare back at Caleb, your eyes flashing with anger and defiance. "I was enjoying every second of it," you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "In fact, I'm thinking of going back again. Maybe I'll let him kiss me again, maybe I'll let him do even more than that"

You feel a surge of anger rising up inside you, your cheeks flushing hot with both fury and humiliation. How dare he accuse you like this, demand answers to questions he has no right to ask? He had no right to drag you out of there like some kind of caveman!

"Did you enjoy his attention?"

"Did you enjoy hers?" 

"So this is what all of this is about?"

"Did you?"

"I hated every second of it"

You grip the edge of your seat as he speeds off, the car lurching forward and the rest of the way home is silent.

Once you get home you step out of the car, not waiting for him to open your door. You walk ahead of him, your heels clicking loudly against the pavement as you cross the parking lot to your apartment building. The cool night air nips at your bare legs, but you barely feel it. You're too focused on the man following close behind you

You can feel his gaze burning into your back, hot and intense. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

As you approach your front door, you hesitate, your hand hovering over the handle. You know you should say something, should try to diffuse the tension that's building between you. But what can you say?

You turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. He's standing close, too close, his broad shoulders taking up almost the entire doorway. He's looking down at you, his eyes dark and stormy, his jaw clenched so tightly you think he might break his teeth.

"Caleb..." you start, but the words die in your throat. 

His hand comes up, his fingers brushing against your cheek. You lean into the touch instinctively, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When you open them again, he's looking at you with a mix of anger, jealousy, and something else... something softer.

"Just... go inside," he says quietly. "Before I do something we'll both regret."

You barely make it inside before the nausea hits you again and you run to the bathroom. Once again falling to your knees in front of the toilet, you retch, your stomach churning as you empty its contents. Tears stream down your face, mingling with the drool and sweat as sobs wrack your body.

Behind you, you hear the click of the bathroom door closing, and then the sound of Caleb's footsteps on the tile floor. He doesn't say a word, but you feel his presence looming over you, as solid and comforting as it always was when you were a kid.

His hands gather your hair, pulling it back from your face and holding it out of the way as you continue to heave and retch. Just like he used to do when you were little and got sick after eating too much ice cream.

The memory makes you cry even harder, great gulping sobs that hurt your chest and burn your throat. You're suddenly transported back to those simpler times, when all you needed was Caleb to make everything better. When he was your rock, your protector, your best friend in the whole wide world.

Why did things have to get so complicated? Why did falling in love with him have to ruin everything? You were happier before, when you could just be with him without all this fear and longing and heartache.

You're dimly aware of Caleb shifting behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you up as the last of the sickness leaves your body. He rubs your back in soothing circles, just like he used to, crooning soft words of comfort into your ear.

"Shh, I've got you," he murmurs, his voice low and deep and so achingly familiar. "I'm here, pipsqueak. I'm not going anywhere."

You let Caleb help you brush your teeth, rinsing the bitter taste of sickness from your mouth. He hands you a glass of water and a couple of pills, no doubt for the headache that's starting to throb behind your eyes.

Without a word, you take them, swallowing them down with a few gulps of the cool water. Caleb watches you silently, his expression unreadable.

When you're finished, he takes your hand and leads you back out to the bedroom. The room spins slightly as you walk, and you have to lean against him for support. He steadies you easily, his arm wrapping around your waist.

At the bed, he pauses, letting you sit down on the edge of the mattress. You watch as he pulls back the covers, the sheets smooth and cool and inviting. He helps you lie down, tucking the blanket around your shoulders like you're a child.

You settle back against the pillows, suddenly exhausted by the events of the night. Caleb stands over you, looking down at your face. In the moonlight filtering through the window, his expression is soft, almost tender.

He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair off your forehead. His fingers linger, tracing the curve of your cheek, the line of your jaw. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

"Sleep now," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be here when you wake up."

You believe him, because you've always believed him. Because he's always kept his promises, no matter what. Even when the world felt like it was falling apart around you, Caleb was your constant, your safe haven, your home.

With a sigh, you let yourself sink into the mattress, the exhaustion pulling you down into a deep sleep. The last thing you hear before everything fades to black is the soft click of the bedroom door as Caleb steps out, giving you privacy and space, just like he always does. Just like he's always done. Even in sleep, you reach for him, your hand searching for the warmth and solidity of his body. But that side its empty, the sheets cool and smooth and untouched.

You wake with a start, your heart pounding in your chest. The sheets beneath you are damp with sweat, tangled around your legs. For a moment, you're disoriented, unsure of where you are or how you got here.

Memories of the night before come rushing back, the club, Caleb's fury, the sickening nausea that left you weak and shaking. You shiver as a chill runs through you, the cold sweat on your skin making you feel clammy and unclean.

Slowly, you sit up, pushing the damp hair out of your face. Your mouth feels dry, your tongue thick and furry. 

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, standing up gingerly as a wave of dizziness washes over you. You grab onto the edge of the bed, waiting for it to pass before taking a tentative step forward.

As you creep towards the door, you suddenly remember Caleb's parting words. He said he'd be here when you woke up. You hadn't been sure what to make of that at the time, too tired and miserable to think it through. But now, a flicker of worry ignites in your chest.

You slip out the bedroom door and into the darkened living room. At first, you don't see him. The room is small and cramped, filled with the detritus of your life. Clothes are strewn over the back of the couch, empty cups and plates litter the coffee table. It's a mess, a reflection of the chaos inside your head.

But then you see him. He's stretched out on the tiny sofa, his long legs dangling off the edge, his broad shoulders hunched to fit the too small space.

You step closer, your heart starting to pound for a different reason now. Caleb looks so peaceful when he's asleep, his face relaxed, his dark lashes fanning out against his cheeks. He's even more beautiful like this, without the anger and pain that usually clouds his eyes.

As you tiptoe back towards the bathroom, you pause for a moment, glancing back at Caleb's sleeping form. He's shifted slightly, one arm falling off the couch to hang down to the floor.

A pang of guilt spears through you as you remember the anger in his eyes last night. The jealousy. The pain. All because of you and your stupid, impulsive actions.

Shaking your head, you quickly look away, hurrying into the bathroom. You turn on the shower, waiting for the water to heat up. As steam starts to fill the small room, you strip off your clothes, letting them drop to the floor. You step into the shower, sighing as the hot water hits your cool skin.

You scrub yourself thoroughly, washing away the grime and sweat of the night before. But no matter how hard you scrub, you can't seem to wash away the shame and guilt that clings to you like a second skin.

With a heavy sigh, you turn off the water, stepping out of the shower. You wrap a towel around your body, tucking it in at the top.

You walk out of the bathroom, still wrapped in your towel, steam curling around your legs.

As you step into the bedroom, you freeze, your heart leaping into your throat.

There, sitting on the edge of your bed, is Caleb. He looks big and imposing in your small bedroom, taking up more space than he should.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy with unspoken words and lingering anger.

Then Caleb breaks the silence, his voice low and rough from sleep. "Hey," he says simply, his gaze never leaving yours.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very aware of your state of undress. You clutch the towel tighter around your body, as if it could somehow shield you from the intensity of his stare.

Hey," you reply softly, not trusting yourself to speak any louder.

He stands up then, moving towards you with slow, deliberate steps. He stops when he's standing right in front of you. You have to tilt your head back to look up at him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

"You really don't get it, do you?"

His thumb presses against your lower lip, tracing the soft curve. He leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours. You can smell the faint scent of apples, the lingering aroma of his cologne. It's the same scent that always lingers on your skin after he holds you close.

"I saw the way those men looked at you last night," he grits out, a flicker of anger sparking in his eyes. "I saw them staring at what's mine. And it made me want to... to..."

"Yours?"

"Yes, mine" he confirms "You've been mine for years. Long before you even realized it."

He takes a shuddering breath, his chest expanding and when he speaks again, his words are raw and unguarded, laid bare by the weight of his emotions.

"I can't hold back anymore. I can't pretend that I don't want you, that I don't need you like air in my lungs. I've wanted you for so long, and seeing you with him last night... it made me realize that I can't keep pretending anymore."

"I would never touch another woman, not when you're all I can think about. Not when you've consumed my every thought, my every dream, for as long as I can remember. You're the one constant in my life. My everything."

Caleb's eyes widen for a split second in surprise before they flutter shut as your lips meet his in a clash of long denied passion. He makes an approving sound in the back of his throat, his arms wrapping around you to crush you against his muscular body.

It's like a dam bursting open, a flood of pent up emotion and desire pouring out of him as he kisses you with a hunger that steals your breath away. His lips move demandingly over yours, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim and possess.

You feel the same desperate hunger rising up inside you, a starving ache that can only be sated by him. Your fingers clutch at his shirt, fisting the fabric as you press yourself even closer, needing to feel every inch of him against every inch of you.

His hands roam your body with a sense of urgency, mapping out the curves he's always craved to touch. He tugs impatiently at the towel, and it falls away, baring your naked flesh to his eyes. He breaks the kiss just long enough to drink in the sight of you.

He leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak before he suckles hard. Pleasure jolts through you, and you arch into him, your fingers tangling in his hair to hold him close.

His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He parts your thighs, and you feel the cool air on your overheated skin before his fingers find your center.

He groans against your breast, his fingers sliding through your folds, teasing your clit with a skill that has you seeing stars. "So fucking wet," he murmurs, lifting his head to look at you with eyes that blaze with lust. "All for me, Pip? 

He walks you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed. His hands grip your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh as he lifts you up effortlessly. You wrap your legs around his waist instinctively.

He lays you down on the bed, his body covering yours, pinning you to the mattress. He kisses you again, his hips nestling between your spread thighs.

Pulling back, he looks down at you with eyes darkened by desire, his chest heaving. "Tell me where you want me, baby"

He strokes the soft skin of your inner thighs, his thumbs brushing maddeningly close to the apex of your legs.

"Here?" he murmurs, his fingers grazing your sex, "or maybe... here? Show me"

"Caleb..."

"Show me, Y/N"

Slowly you spread your legs apart, feet flat on the mattress and you point a finger in between your thighs "Here"

"Dip one finger in"

You obey his command. He inhales sharply when your finger parts your glistening folds. His eyes follow the path of your finger as it trails over your sensitive clit, and a low groan escapes his lips at the sight of your touch.

"Stop" his voice makes you pause, your finger hovering just above your needy sex as you blink up at him.

"Not there," he says, "Dip just the tip of your finger straight into your tight little cunt. Let me see you open yourself up for me."

The tip of your finger disappears inside of you. He licks his lips, his eyes fixated on the way your walls clench around it, as if begging for something more.

"That's enough, I want a taste. Feed it to me"

You withdraw your finger from your dripping pussy and bring your finger to Caleb's parted lips, watching as he takes it into his mouth without hesitation. His tongue swirls around the tip, lapping up your essence, his lips sealing around the digit as he suckles firmly. An approving moan vibrates around your finger, the sound sending shivers of pleasure racing through your body.

"Mmm, fuck," he murmurs, releasing your finger from his mouth. "You taste even better than I imagined. Believe me when I say that I'm going to lick this sweet little cunt until you're screaming my name and cumming on my tongue over and over again. But right now, I need to be inside you"

With that declaration, he sits back on his heels and reaches for the hem of his shirt, he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside. His muscles ripple and flex as he moves, a testament to the strength and power that lies beneath his skin.

Next, he unbuckles his belt. He stands briefly to shimmy out of his jeans, letting them drop to the floor and leaving him in nothing but a pair of tight, black boxer briefs that do little to hide the thick outline of his arousal.

He crawls back over you, settling between your spread thighs, his hips nestling against yours. He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, his tongue delving deep to taste you again. You can feel the heat of his skin, the hard length of him pressing insistently against your core.

Breaking the kiss, he reaches down to push his boxers out of the way, freeing his cock. It springs up thick and hard, the swollen head already glistening with precum. He takes himself in hand, stroking himself slowly as he looks down at you.

Caleb groans and throws his head back as your small hand wraps around him. "Princess," he grunts, his hips bucking slightly into your touch. He can feel your hesitation, your innocence, and it makes him want to take his time with you.

When you push him back onto the bed and settle between his spread thighs, his chest heaves with anticipation. He can only watch as you lean down and extend your little pink tongue to lick a slow, teasing path along the underside of his cock.

"Oh, fuck," he gasps, his fingers tangling in your hair, gripping the soft strands tightly.

"Teach me how to do it, I want to make you feel good"

"Fuck, Pip," he rasps, his hips twitching with the effort of holding still and letting you take the lead. "You're killing me here. Your mouth feels so fucking good."

He guides your head with a gentle pressure, encouraging you to take more of him into your mouth. "Start by just licking along the shaft," he instructs, his voice strained. "Use the flat of your tongue, from the base up to the tip."

As you follow his directions, he shudders and lets out a low moan. "That's it, just like that. You're doing so good, princess. Your mouth is perfect."

"Now," he continues, his breathing growing heavier, "try wrapping your lips around the head. Just the tip, okay? And suck gently, like you would with a lollipop. Use your lips and your tongue toge...Ungh...Fuck, just like that," Caleb groans, his fingers tightening in your hair as he feels your soft lips wrap around the swollen head of his cock.

He guides your head down a little further, inch by inch, letting you take more of his thick length into your mouth. "Remember to breathe through your nose, and don't worry about taking it all at once. Just focus on the head for now."

As you suck gently, your tongue swirling around the tip, Caleb's thighs tremble beneath your hands. "Shit...fuck. Now, try bobbing your head a little. Just an inch at a time, letting your lips slide along my shaft. Find a rhythm that feels good for you."

He looks down at you, his eyes dark and intense, filled with a mix of lust and affection. "You're doing amazing. I've never felt anything like this before. Your mouth is pure magic."

He watches, enraptured, as your head rises and falls, your lips wrapped snugly around him. The sight of your pretty mouth stretched around him, the feeling of your warm, wet mouth enveloping him, its too much for Caleb to take.

Caleb's body tenses, his grip on your hair tightening as he feels his release fast approaching. With a low groan, he suddenly moves, sliding his throbbing shaft from the warm haven of your mouth.

Before you can miss the loss, he's moving, flipping your body over and settling between your thighs once more. His hands grip your hips, squeezing the soft flesh as he positions himself at your entrance.

"Not yet, baby," he rasps, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "I can't cum like that, not before I feel you wrapped around me. I want to be inside you when you let go."

The head of his cock nudges against your wet folds, parting them, teasing your entrance. His breath comes in short, sharp gasps as he fights the urge to surge forward, to bury himself to the hilt in one thrust.

"Can I?"

"Please Caleb"

"Biiiig stretch," Caleb grunts, his voice strained as he thrusts forward. He buries himself to the hilt slowly, his heavy balls coming to rest against your skin.

Your gasp of surprise and the way your back arches off the bed, pressing your breasts against his chest, spurs him on.

He pauses for a moment, letting you adjust to the size of him, the stretch of your untouched walls around his shaft. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, a mix of exertion and exhilaration. The heat of your core is incredible, the wetness coating his length allowing him to slide in and out of you.

He pulls back slowly, until just the tip of his cock remains inside you, before thrusting forward again, burying himself deep. He sets a steady rhythm, his hips rocking against yours as he fucks you with long, deep strokes.

He lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder as he angles his hips and thrusts deep, striking a spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed.

"Do that again," you gasp, your nails digging into his back, urging him on. Your words inflame him, spurring him to do exactly as you asked. He pulls back and slams forward again, his thick cock pummeling that sensitive spot deep inside your core.

"That's it, it's there!" you cry out, your head thrown back, your throat bared to his hungry gaze.

He leans down, capturing your nipple his teeth grazing the sensitive peak. He suckles and nips at the hardened bud. His hand slides between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing the swollen nub in tight, quick circles.

Your screams of pleasure fill the room, a symphony of ecstasy that makes Caleb's heart soar. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, your walls fluttering and clenching around him. The pleasure is overwhelming, unlike anything you've ever experienced on your own. It leaves you dizzy and breathless, your mind hazing with the intensity of it all.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Caleb grunts, his voice strained as he pounds into you with wild abandon. Sweat beads on his brow, his muscles flexing and rippling with each thrust. He's lost in the sensation of your tight cunt, in the way your body molds to his perfectly.

But then, he feels it. The way your hips start to rock up to meet his, your body instinctively seeking more pleasure. Your legs wrap around his waist, your heels digging into his backside as you urge him deeper, harder, faster.

"Don't fucking stop," you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths and wanton moans. "Don't ever stop, Caleb. Please."

He reaches down, gripping your thigh and hiking your leg even higher, until your knee is nearly pressed to your chest. The new angle allows him to drive even deeper into your core, his cock head kissing your cervix with each savage thrust. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall.

Your body tenses, back arching sharply as the coil of pleasure inside you snaps. A scream tears from your throat, raw and primal, as your climax crashes over you. Your walls clamp down around him like a vice, gripping his length with a force that steals his breath. The sensation is too much, too intense, too perfect.

His hips stutter, his rhythm faltering as your cunt milks his cock, demanding his own climax.

His cock pulses and throbs as he finds his own release, thick ropes of hot seed erupting from the swollen head to paint your insides white.

"I can't... I can't believe it," he gasps, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. "I thought I could last longer, but you just... god, Pip, you just felt too fucking good."

He's not sure if he was too rough, too demanding in his desire to claim you, to make you his. The thought that he might have hurt you leaves him feeling guilty and protective.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. "Did I hurt you, baby? I didn't mean to be so rough..."

He searches your face intently, looking for any sign of discomfort or pain. But all he sees is a reflection of his own satisfaction, his own lingering pleasure.

You shake your head, a small smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "No, I'm not hurt," you assure him

"Wanna go again?" he asks teasingly. He rocks his hips slightly, his softening cock still nestled deep inside your sensitive core.

"You're secretly a dirty dog, Caleb," you accuse playfully, a giggle escaping your lips. You nip at his jaw, your teeth grazing the stubble that's begun to grow there. "A big, bad, horny dog."

Caleb's only response is a low, rumbling "Woof," his lips curling into a wolfish grin.

[mallory524]

Can I request thunderbolts and how they handle female reader whos feeling down? About a person thing or a mission or whatever, it doesnt matter, just maybe some hugs if its not too much to ask? I love love love your thunderbolts reactions to reader getting kidnapped!! Im also so obsessed with them rn <3

(ahhhh you're so nice thanks)

thunderbolts when you're feeling down

tags- fem!reader, comfort, hugsss, vague mentions of injuries, people are mean but the thunderbolts love you

notes- i know i've been taking so long to get back to requests i've been busy and i barely went on tumblr the last few days but i'm turning that around now let's go babyyy

Yelena

You’d gotten hurt during a mission that went very wrong and Yelena had to help you hobble out of there herself. Your body may have healed pretty quickly, but you were definitely acting differently for the next few days. You were just so … sad. It was surprising for Yelena, especially since this was by no means the worst mission you’d ever been on. Nonetheless, you weren’t your usual bright self, and Yelena knew something was eating away at you.

Yelena won’t let you pretend nothing’s wrong, of course. She eventually gets to the bottom of it, hearing you say it made you feel weak after needing so much help the other day. "Yelena, you and Ava have such cool abilities, and we’ve got three super soldiers Plus, a guy who can’t even go on these missions because he’s too powerful to be let loose-" She quickly cuts you off. "No, do not start that. Don't start comparing yourself to other people. You are one of the most capable people I know. You've saved me and the others so many times. You don't even give it a second thought," she tells you, taking your hand into hers. "This is just one of those times we get to help you. You deserve to have someone take care of you for once." Just the way she says that she gets to help you really shows how much she cares about you, and how much she wants to be there for you when you need her.

If going out and taking a brisk walk around town would make you feel better, Yelena's got her shoes on, ready to go. If you want to fall asleep watching a movie with her, she'll grab some snacks and a big blanket to wrap around you. She won't leave your side until she's seen you smile - really smile - and even then, she's still spending as much time with you as she can. No such thing as too many hugs or too many kind words for you.

Bucky

Being with a congressman, you already had a lot of events you had to attend, but now you're both in the New Avengers sort of against your will, so double that. It's constant formal events and conferences and banquets, and talking to some of the most arrogant people in the world at all of them. You try to make friends, or at least find someone to talk to, but your efforts aren't often met with the response you want. Some are nice, but a lot of these high society types look down on you. You try not to take it personally, because they look down on everyone, but it's hard not to be discouraged when you're constantly surrounded by people who believe themselves to be so much better than you. They're so cold, and Bucky is often the only real source of warmth or kindness you have all night.

After you get home after an especially exhausting evening, Bucky waits for you to get changed into your comfy clothes so he can talk to you. The moment you walk back into the room, he pulls you into a hug. "You're so patient for putting up with all these things," he mutters to you. You try to tell him that you don't mind, but he knows. These events have gotten to be draining. You finally tell Bucky how those people are really starting to bring you down. He reminds you that he loves you so much, and you shouldn't spend time worrying about anyone who can't see how wonderful you are.

Bucky will cook you some comfort food or draw you a bath if you want, or the two of you can just spend the rest of the night quietly enjoying each other's company, watching something or listening to music. He'll do anything you want. He hates when you're discouraged like this and he just wants you to feel better.

Ava

Life with the Thunderbolts/Avengerz has been great, but lately things haven't been as fun. The team is getting really busy, so you aren't taking the time to hang out anymore. It feels like when you're not on a mission, you just sit around the tower and everyone does their own thing. It was nice at first, but it's gotten lonely. You're spending all your time alone or working, and you've been in low spirits as a result.

Ava's concerned by your change in demeaner, and one day she asks you about it. When you finally open up and tell her how lonesome you've been lately, she feels terrible. "You're right, we haven't been spending enough time together. I'm sorry," she tells you, gently reaching out to embrace you. "We should be making more of an effort to hang out throughout the day. We've had a lot of big changes in our lives lately, and you shouldn't be processing it all by yourself." She sits with you for the rest of that afternoon, talking, laughing, watching tv and holding each other. When you leave the room for a moment to grab a blanket, Ava texts Yelena and asks that she make sure no one has anything planned later tonight; the team should do something together, even something simple like a movie night with everyone crammed on the couch. Ava likes her solitude, but she knows you'll love spending some quality time with the group. She doesn't want you to have to spend another night isolated in your room.

John

The mission had been pretty rough, and nearly failed completely. It was a rescue mission, and in spite of the chaos and darkness, you thought you'd figured out where the hostages were. It immediately became clear, though, that you'd fallen into a trap and led your friends right into it with you. You eventually got out of there and saved the people you were looking for, but you were all injured to varying degrees because of your mistake.

Back at the tower later, you're laying down on your bed all alone while everyone chats in the other room. John walks in, sits beside you, and asks what's going on. "I almost got us all killed, Walker. I can’t face any of them,” you say, sitting up but not turning your head to meet his eyes. Hearing you talk like this breaks his heart - and hearing your voice tremble a little like you might cry sends him into a panic. "Hey, hey it's okay! You made a mistake. Everyone does... you know I have."

"Well, Ava was pretty mad at me back there. She has every right, but you know... it hurts." He gently turns your face so he can look at you. It's sad, you're blaming yourself for everyone else's injuries, but you're looking pretty banged up yourself. "Well I'm not mad at you," he says softly. "You helped a lot of people today. It just didn’t go very smoothly. You did your best, don’t beat yourself up about this." You've got him by your side for the rest of the night. He doesn't want to rejoin the group, he just wants to be there for you. You lay there with your head on his chest, as he gently strokes your hair. He occasionally leans further down to quietly compliment you: telling you how smart you are, how beautiful you are, how strong...

Alexei

The news is rarely on in the tower. It's a lot of the same stuff over and over, and many channels don't have anything nice to say about any of you. It's usually not anything surprising or even very personal, just repetitive. A lot of "Who even are these people?" and "How can we trust them?" and "Captain America is suing those frauds " and "Remember when John Walker killed that guy?". It starts to get to you, though, when the press starts to find out more and more about your past. Turning on the tv and seeing literal footage of the things in your life that you regret the most is the worst feeling.

Alexei catches on to what's happening. You seem sort of down all the time and you're not talking very much anymore at those galas and charity events that you all have to go to, or even to your friends for that matter. You eventually confide in Alexei about how much this is all beginning to bother you. He grabs you by the shoulders, looking you in the eyes and immediately trying to cheer you up. "Do not listen to any of them. You know who you are and we all know who you are. These vultures just look for the worst in everyone. You have come a long way and you are doing your best. Do not forget that." You now have someone standing up for you whenever some reporter tries to give you a hard time. Alexei is a very friendly guy, but he can be intimidating when he needs to be. He texts you throughout the day to see how you're feeling, even after you insist you're fine. He will do anything you want to do if he thinks it'll raise your spirits, even if that's just a big hug at the end of a really tough day.

Bob

Most of the time, the team works on their own, but you do have to check in with Valentina occasionally. No one enjoys that. Her career is almost entirely in the hands of the New Avengers, so she kisses up to you when she thinks it will help her, but she's still kind of the worst. You meet up with Valentina on your own today and you try to be cordial, but she keeps throwing in little digs. She asks you if you’ve slept because “you look so tired”, she asks if that's really what you're wearing to the press conference, and before you leave, she tells you to leave the talking to her tonight. "We really want them to root for us, and with your past... well you understand,” she says. You carefully remind Valentina that she's one to talk about bad press, and that shuts her up, but her words stick with you regardless.

Bob's in the other room, listening to the constant slights. He knows all too well how Valentina can be so inviting, and then belittling a second later. It’s not clear whether or not she even realizes she's doing it. Maybe it makes her feel like she still has a little power over you and the team. You brush off all her words, but Bob knows it's gotten to be too much. Throughout that long, boring press conference, Bob keeps glancing your way, and you seem sort of off. Bob pulls you to the side afterwards and asks you about that meeting with Valentina, checking in to make sure you’re okay. You just wave it off and tell him you don't care, and that "being a little rude is definitely not the most egregious of Valentina's many crimes". He nods and takes your hands as he tells you, "I know, but I don't like hearing her talk to you that way. You’re just… you’re just so great. I don’t want you thinking otherwise. Especially not because of people like her.” You wrap your arms around him and thank him for his sweet words. Bob doesn't just move on after that, though. He knows how much impact words have. He makes sure to regularly assure you, tell you how nice you look, and comment on how kind and strong you are whenever he can. The world isn't kind and he wants to make up for it. He doesn't want you forgetting how wonderful you are.

[sapphirexsolarium]

Cruel Universe

tw: angst, character death (reader), hurt/no comfort, sylus x non-mc reader, couldn't proof read through the tears :')

wc: 1.1k

a/n: i rewrote this 4 times with several different plot points and completely abandoned the original plot i had, this is inspired by a fic i read with a similar plot line but i can't find it ; A ; if any of you recognize it please let me know so i can give proper credit

The loud thumping is incessant. Your breathing is slowed and you realize that thumping noise is the sound of your raging heartbeat in your ears. It's so loud. Obnoxious even.

Through the haze of your blurred vision you see him and her running to you.

"Oh good, they're safe." You think to yourself. In the end at least you could give him this.

-

"Do you think I'm a cruel man?"

You give pause, "I think you're pretty ruthless but cruel?", thinking over your answer.

"That's good to know." He quietly chuckles, polishing his gun.

"She called you cruel didn't she?" You try not to laugh but his glare at you makes you burst out into laughter.

"It's a little unfounded don't you think? We were just acquainted and she's already made assumptions about me." Sylus tries to reason with you but your laughter drowns out all notions of him winning you over.

-

"So, reincarnation huh?"

"Something like that." He shrugs indifferently after revealing to you his big, great secret.

"Wow… I didn't think the universe would be so kind to give us another chance much less reunite with our soulmates." You look up at the sky, streaks of reds, orange and pinks bleeding into the night sky as the sun slowly starts to peek out from the horizon.

"It's actually a curse."

"If my curse was to find my soulmate again… I think I'd be okay with that." The cold dawn bites into your skin and you pull your jacket tighter around your body. "There's hope in your curse. You'll find her again." That stings your chest a bit when you say that.

"I didn't think you'd be so sentimental." He pokes at your forehead before placing his jacket over your shoulders.

"A girl can dream about a love that transcends space and time." You wave off his hand, eyes downcast as you try to memorize the scent of his jacket. It's warm, smokey and a little bit sweet. You stare off into the distance as day breaks. You'll hold onto these small moments now, you can't afford to hope for anything more. "I hope you find her."

-

"What will you do now that she remembers?"

"Love her for the rest of my days." He softly smiles, looking out at the city skyline. Part of you is happy that he's happy and the other part feels like your chest has been hollowed out. Miss Hunter is one lucky girl.

You're fiddling with your switch blade when he asks, "What do you dream of?"

Your brows furrow, "Like when I'm asleep?"

He lets out an exasperated sigh, "No, silly. What are your dreams? Your grand schemes? The big goal in life?"

"Probably the same as yours."

He's surprised by your answer, "What ever do you mean?"

You don't meet his eyes, you're afraid you'll give yourself away. Instead you stare up at the night sky, "Find my soulmate, tell them I love them and live out the rest of my days with them." You're not really sure if that's your dream though. Especially when the one person you wish it to be, fundamentally cannot be. He's not yours. Never was. The universe said so, right?

"Oh…" He tries searching your eyes for an answer but you refuse to look at him. Maybe that's the answer he was looking for.

"…Do you really think that there's one perfect person out there for everyone?" You quietly ask, looking down as you hug your knees tighter to your body.

"No." It was his turn to surprise you. "Even with my destiny… I still believe love, even perfect love can exist anywhere and everywhere."

You look up at him for a moment before your lips break out into a teasing grin, "I didn't think you'd be so sentimental."

He rolls his eyes but smiles down at you, patting your head. "I think I'm developing some bad habits."

"I wonder why." You look down as he pats your head, the bittersweet smile hidden from his view.

-

The roaring fire surrounding you brings you back to your senses. The bright lights and sounds of distant sirens cloud your mind but one thing is certain, Sylus was in front of you. Holding your hand, looking so concerned, so worried. You've never seen him like this. Usually he's so confident and sure of himself.

"We'll go to the islands."

You chuckle, sputtering blood between your pained coughs. "Yeah… The beach house right?"

"Right. We'll eat whatever you want." His fingers holding onto your hand so tightly, it momentarily distracts you from the pain.

"That new cafe that opened?" Your breathing begins to labor, you're slipping away.

"Yes… And… And dancing. We'll dance the night away." Sylus, for the first time sounds so unsure. "You'll be alright."

"Dancing…" You softly smile, the idea of dancing with him under the moonlight feels too generous. Like you don't deserve that kind of bliss. After all, you're pining after a man who's in love with someone else.

What kind of person does that? You should've moved on but part of you selfishly held on. You held onto those soft, warm, quiet memories and told yourself that it was enough. You didn't need more.

What was your big dream? Your grand scheme? To love him. To love him for all eternity. Selfishly and quietly.

"Sylus…?" You try to hold on for a little longer but you can't feel the warmth of his hands anymore. You wanted more time, just a little more. "I'm scared."

"You'll be alright. I'm right here."

It's slipping away too fast. Your mind is swimming, filled with only him. You love him. You love him so much. You're hopelessly, desperately and pathetically in love with him. You're so scared that you won't be able to say it.

You look up at him, your eyes pleading to the universe to give you this one thing. It's okay if you can't have him. You understand that, you do. But you're begging, pleading for the universe to give you this at least.

"I… I love…" You try to push the words out with your final breath but it falls short. You weren't given the chance. In the end, you were denied your greatest wish even in death. In the end those words will always remain unsaid.

"No, please…" He squeezes your hand harder, watching the light fade from your eyes before you can say those words to him. He cradles your body in his arms. You feel so much smaller like this. He's never held you like this before and he's ashamed that this is the first and only time.

"I'm sorry." He murmurs against your forehead before pressing a kiss to it.

Perhaps the universe is not as kind as you made it out to be.

And perhaps… he is cruel.

"I love you too."

[twisted-broth]

Emergency Rendezvous

Introduction

TW: accidental drugging, aphrodisiacs (no actual smut yet but reader is v horny)

You swat Grim's paws away from the ingredients on the table for the third time while Crewel continued explaining the science behind your assigned potion. He grumbled impatiently, resting his chin on the workbench. With the hand not prepared to Throw Down, you copied Crewel's drawing of some kind of chemical synapse with little bubbles in between labeled "endorphins".

"What makes this solution so potent is the ability of our magic ingredients to act directly on endorphin-releasing pathways in the brain, encouraging the body's natural painkiller system rather than introducing an artificial one. This greatly reduces the risk of addiction seen in non-magical analgesics. While this potion is relatively low risk, and hopefully easy enough that even you pups can't mess it up, there is a significant overlap with nearby pathways that may produce unintended effects. I trust that I've trained you properly enough to thoroughly check the labels on your ingredients and weigh them carefully."

The moment Crewel ended his lecture, Grim was grabbing at the various powders and herbs. With barely a glance given to the textbook in between you two, he started haphazardly shaking the magical- and probably expensive- elements into a weigh boat on the scale.

"Grim! What part of 'read the label' did you not understand?" You reach for the bottle, but are too slow to stop Grim from tossing the ingredient into your cauldron. You sigh wearily, resigned to leave the fate of your grade in Grim's trigger-happy paws. You manage to double check most of the ingredients before they're added to the mix, surprisingly in the correct order. After over a year spent with your troublesome pet/friend/roommate/co-student, you've learned to adopt an "it is what it is" mindset.

When the concoction is finally done, you're honestly shocked to see that your potion is the same color as everyone else's. To make it even better, nothing exploded in the process! You swirled the blue potion around in the flask, admiring the iridescent tone.

"Good dogs!" Crewel congratulated the class, almost sounding surprised that nothing had gone wrong. "Since you've all signed your waivers, and the risk associated is low, I'll allow you to test your products now or save them for later. If you experience any adverse side effects, inform me at once. Class dismissed!"

You eyed the potion on the desk in front of you, weighing the risks it posed. A tap on your shoulder stole your attention, and you swiveled around to see Ace sporting his usual self-righteous smirk. Beside him, Deuce was curiously sniffing their own creation.

"What d'ya think, prefect? Gonna give it a taste test?"

You respond with a weary laugh, finding that the shimmer of the potion was becoming less and less appealing. "I don't know... I mean I don't really have any pain right now. I guess my back is a bit sore?" You reply noncommittally.

Ace rolled his eyes with a tsk. "Aw, c'mon! Crewel never lets us try the potions we make. I, for one, have a killer headache. Cough it up Loosey Deucey!"

Ace swipes the flask from Deuce's hands, ignoring his scoff of protest. With disturbingly little hesitation, he downs the potion in seconds and licks the stray blue droplets from the corner of his mouth. The three of you watch him with mixed expressions of anxiety and curiosity, waiting for the potion to take effect. After another minute or so, Ace's eyes widened in excitement. "Hey, it's totally working! Damn that's a lot better!"

"And of course you had to go and hog it all to yourself," Deuce grumbled, resting his head on the workbench.

Grim pushed your experimental product closer to you. "Well? Go on, henchhuman! Anything the Great Grim makes will be 10x better than those two."

You raised an eyebrow, highly doubtful of Grim's claim considering his disregard for proper measurements. You open your mouth to voice your hesitation, but the excitement in his eyes gives you pause. Well, Crewel did say the potion was pretty low-risk, even if you did make it wrong. And you suppose even Grim deserves some semblance of a win on occasion. With a heavy sigh, you raise the flask to your lips and down the concoction.

You're pleasantly surprised by how good it tastes. Not that you were really paying attention to the ingredients, but you just assumed it would be terrible. Instead, the faint taste of honeysuckle and lavender dances across your tongue, gracing your throat with a warm coating on the way down. You can trace the warmth down your chest and into the stomach, where it slowly dissipates throughout the rest of your body. Despite the pleasant sensation, you say with certainty that your back ache had gone away. Rather, you were distracted from the dull pain as the same warm feeling flooded and settled in your groin.

Either from the potion or the realization of your situation, a furious blush burned your cheeks and ears. It took nearly a minute for you to regain your composure and notice the voices of your friends calling out to you in concern.

"Y/n! Are you alright?" Deuce gently placed a hand on your forearm, trying to bring you back to reality. You gasp at the touch, quickly withdrawing your arm as though you had been burned. Noticing your friends hurt expression, you cleared your throat in embarrassment.

"Sorry! Just a different sensation than I was expecting. You did great Grim! It works really well." You laugh unconvincingly, already feeling a drop of sweat budding at your temple.

Ignoring the various expressions of concern and confusion, you stand up abruptly, nearly knocking your chair over in the process. You make quick work of gathering your belongings, using all your focus to hold onto your last bit of composure.

"Sorry guys, I forgot that I uh... told Azul I would help out at the lounge! It'll be suuuuper boring though, so you guys should go on without me. I'll catch up to you later!" Without leaving room for protest, you rushed out of the lab room, hiding your beet-red face behind your free hand.

Within minutes, you were urgently knocking on Crewel's office door. The sudden noise summoned two large black noses to the narrow gap under the door where they sniffed intently at your feet. From within the office, you hear Crewel call out for you to enter. The dogs retreat from the door at the sound of their master's voice, allowing you space to slip in and close the door quickly behind you.

Although Crewel initially only glances in your direction, he does a double take at the sight of your flushed face and sweat-drenched brow. Two lanky Dalmatians regard you with mild intrigue from their large bed in the corner, where they lay daintily on top of one another. A rare look of concern crosses Crewel's features. "Prefect? Are you alright?"

You stay pressed against the door, trying to distance yourself from the tempting scent of Crewel's cologne. Your hand feebly attempts to cover your nose and mouth, and you shake your head no. "O-our potion," you stutter, "I think something went wrong".

Continuing to test your self control, Crewel stands and approaches you, assessing your vulnerable state. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead to feel for a fever. To your continued humiliation, a quiet whine escapes you at the contact. His eyes widened slightly, but he quickly dawns a mask of professionalism as he retracts his hand.

"I see. Well, as I mentioned in lecture, slight alterations in the potion's formula can trigger alternate pathways which are also mediated by endorphins. One such pathway is the arousal pathway. It would seem that significant enough errors were made that your potion activated your arousal pathway, rather than the intended pain relief pathway". He explains the error matter-of-factly, returning to his desk.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. Arousal pathway? Doesn't the universe ever get tired of playing practical jokes on you? The persistent throbbing in your core sent the clear message that it doesn't. You groan, burying your face in your hands in an attempt to disappear from the face of the earth. "Can you undo it?"

"I'm afraid the only inhibitor of such endorphins is prolactin, the neurotransmitter released after orgasm. Unfortunately, we've yet to artificially synthesize an effective substitute. Otherwise, your body should metabolize the potion in eight hours." You were appreciative of Crewel's calm and even tone. Even if it didn't cure your current predicament, maybe you'll be able to look him in the eyes again someday.

Making the choice to not dig this hole even deeper, you gave him a grateful bow and quickly departed. Your mind was swimming as you made a beeline for Ramshackle, hoping to make it home before your knees started buckling. At last, you shut the door to your quiet dorm building. Your heart pounded in your ears, though if it was racing from the speed walking or the overwhelming arousal coursing through your blood, you weren't sure.

In any case, your options were to suffer for eight hours, or to get fucked. Well, you would be fucked either way. Your legs finally gave out by the time you had crawled to your bed and curled up on your side. The pillow trapped between your thighs did little to reduce the pressure that consumed every thought. As you stripped down to your underwear, your trembling fingers and raging heart made it very apparent that you weren't in any state to be able to take care of this yourself.

Several faces flashed through your mind, innocent encounters with your friends being quickly perverted in your brain. With less apprehension than was probably warranted, you pulled out your phone and opened your contacts. It wasn't an impressively long list, but nonetheless you quickly found the name you were looking for. The voice of reason in your head insisted that you would never live this down, but it was quickly gagged by the larger majority of your brain that was begging to be fucked.

With shaky hand, you pressed the call button.

A/n: if you missed the poll, I'm hoping to make this a series (no promises). Either way, the first victim will be Leona 😮‍💨

[lowkeyerror]

Play Nice

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Notes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy, Established Relationship, Mean Girls 2004

Summary: Asking your girlfriend to be nice to your friends was one thing, but asking her to share your attention was another.

An: I did a poll on if I should do another Regina George and someone asked for 04' Mean Girls so 🍟 this is for you.

Masterlist | Summer Secrets

“I don’t know how you do it.”

You had just sat down at your lunch table with Janis and Damian. The chatter of the cafeteria was rampant, almost making it impossible to hear Janis's comment.

You had a fry hanging out of the side of your mouth as you went to answer her, “Do what?”

Damian nods his head in the direction of The Plastics table, “Stand to be around Regina.”

You give them both a warning look, “I thought we already went over this.”

Janis sighs, “We know, she’s your lover or whatever, but she’s literally the most self-obsessed person that walks down the halls.”

“Well everyone else is obsessed with her too,” you respond.

Janis scoffs, “Not I.”

You tilt your head to the side, “Oh really? You bring her up every day. Sometimes it feels like you talk about her more than me and she’s my girlfriend.”

“I just think it’s unfair that Regina ran around the school calling me a pyro lez only to turn around and start dating my best friend,” she crosses her arms.

“Our best friend,” Damian interjects.

You move to sit next to her, resting your head on her shoulder, “Aw is someone jealous?”

Janis continues to pout, “No.”

“You’re my best friend. My relationship with Regina won’t change that. I’m still an art freak. I sit here with you guys, I haven’t started saying fetch, and I don’t wear pink on Wednesday’s.”

“Not yet,” Janis argues.

Damian nods, “True, that just means she doesn’t have her claws all the way into you yet.”

“Speak of the devil,” Janis murmurs under her breath.

You raise your head off of her shoulder just in time to see Regina strutting towards your table. As always, all eyes are on her. You let your eyes shamelessly rake over her outfit.

“Babe, can I talk to you for a minute?”

The irritation in her tone doesn’t scare you. You look at your friends first then back at Regina, seemingly weight your options.

“I’ll be right back,” you address Damian and Janis.

As soon as the words leave your lips Regina is walking away from the table. Her heels clack against the cafeteria floor. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the feeling of eyes on you, as you follow your girlfriend out of the area.

“Gina, slow down,” you call after her bit she doesn’t stop.

You jog to catch up to her, right as she slips into an empty classroom.

As soon as you’re inside the classroom, you’re meet with the sight of your girlfriend staring at you with her arms crossed.

“You’re mad at me?” It’s a question as much as it is a statement.

“You were all over Janis. Leaning across the table to talk to her, then moving over and putting your head on her shoulder. Do you want her to be your girlfriend ?”

You get closer to her, taking her hips in your hands, “Baby.”

She wouldn’t look at you, “Answer my question Y/n.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your face, “No, I don’t want Janis to be my girlfriend. You don’t have to be jealous of her.”

Her eyes snap to yours, “I’m not jealous of her. How could I be when she looks like that, and I look like this?”

“Babe, she’s my best friend. Can’t you just try to be nice to her, for me?”

Regina stomps her feet, “I am being nice! I could’ve walked over there and pulled her out of her seat and told her not to touch you ever again, but I didn’t do that.”

“Nicer than that. You guys were friends once, you had to have liked something about her.”

Regina rolls her eyes, “She’s funny, I guess.”

You place a hand on her forehead, “No fever.” Then you move your head to her chest, “Heart beat sounds steady. How’s your throat?”

She pushes you away, fighting her laughter, “You’re such a loser.”

You throw your hands up, “Hey I’m just proving that being nice to Janis didn’t kill you. And you like that I’m a loser.”

Regina shakes her, “No, I like that you’re my loser.”

“Same difference. Now can we go back to lunch,” you tease her.

She pretends to think about it, “I don’t know if I’m ready to leave just yet.”

You have confusion written all over your face, “Why not?”

She walks up to you, putting a little sway in her hips, “Because I’m in an empty room with my girlfriend and she hasn’t even tried to kiss me yet.”

You feel yourself blushing, “Oh, I could fix that.”

“Fix it then, baby.”

You don’t waste any more time, pulling her into you. Like with most of your kisses you let Regina dictate the pace. She always kissed you like she was starving. As if she would never be hungry again as long as she could taste your lips.

You moan when she tugs on your bottom lip with her teeth. You can feel her smirk against you. Her hands greedily slide under your shirt. Nails gently scraping against your abdomen.

“Gina,” you whimper, against her mouth.

She starts to place kisses to the underside of your jaw. Her hand finding a place on your throat. Your eyes are closed trying not to get too lost in the feeling.

Regina licks a stripe up the side of your neck to your ear. She takes the lobe in her mouth before whispering into your ear, “Do I get a reward for playing nice?”

You nod eagerly, “Whatever you want.”

She chuckles, squeezing your throat a bit, “Oh baby, you always give me whatever I want that’s nothing new.”

“Pink.”

She pulls back enough that you can both start to regain your composure, “You’re going to wear pink for me?”

You nod, “On Wednesdays, as long as you’re nice.”

She smiles brightly, “And sit with me. So that everyone knows you’re mine.”

You place a chaste kiss to her lips, “Everyone already knows who I belong to.”

“Who do you belong to again? I think I need a reminder.”

This time you roll your eyes playfully, “ Only you baby.”

“Now, we can go back.”

She walks past you and out of the classroom, swaying with every step. You follow behind her, part of you wishing you two could just skip the rest of the day.

When she walks back into the cafeteria, she makes a show of swiping her thumb across her lips.

You sit down back with your friends. They eye you, unimpressed by the gloss that coats your lips.

“Did you really have to announce you had a quickie with queenie?”

You blow off the accusation, “Did not. We just made out a little.”

“Ew,” Damian says.

Janis agrees with him, “Very ew.”

“Well, it was her price for promising to be nice to you from now on. I expect you to be nice back,” you shrug.

Janis gawks at you, “I have to be nice to her?”

“Come on, she agreed to it. Why can’t you?”

Janis frowns, “Well for one, she got a make out session to agree. Do I get something?”

“To see your best friend happy,” you give her a large smile.

“If I so much as feel her judgmental gaze, I am reverting back to my old ways,” Janis relents.

You grab her hand from across the table, “Thank you.”

“Yea whatever,” she brushes you off, but doesn’t let go of your hand.

You can’t resist teasing her, “You can act all nonchalant, but we both know that you love me.”

She snatches her hand from you, “And that’s enough of that.”

“Any other rules we need to be aware of,” Damian butts in.

You clear your throat, “About that… on Wednesday’s I gotta wear pink and sit at The Plastic table.”

Damian’s jaw almost drops, “Did you not just say-”

“I know what I said, but this is for peace between my friends and my girlfriend. It’s a bigger picture moment,” you justify.

“Janis, say something about how stupid this is,” Damian demands back up.

Janis just shrugs, “It was bound to happen eventually. It makes sense for her to sit with her girlfriend at least once a week. She is always with us.”

You smile brightly at your friend, “Exactly! No biggie, just one day.”

The next few days are different. Neither Janis or Regina make rude comments about each other. In fact they start greeting each other. It’s a little awkward, but they keep doing it.

On Wednesdays you sit with your girlfriend as promised. It’s nice sitting with her and her friends. Sometimes it does feel like they’re on a different planet, but it’s not a bad thing.

Everyone seems to be settling into this new normal greatly.

“I have an art show Saturday, I want you guys to come,” Janis announces at your lunch table.

“I’ll be there for another first-place win,” you applaud her.

“Carpool?” Damian asks.

“Obviously,” you respond to him.

Janis spots Regina walking over, but keeps any snarky comment to herself.

“Y/n, art fr-,” Regina stops and reframes her sentence. “Janis, Damian. I’m having a party Saturday. You’re all invited.”

Damian’s eyes are wide, “You’re inviting us? Janis and I, to your party? Intentionally.”

Regina takes in a deep breath, before doing her best to smile, “Yes.”

“Janis has an art thing Saturday, but we’ll stop by after?”

Her already strained smile, becomes more strained, “K.”

She walks away from the table.

“You do know she’s mad right?” Janis points out.

You furrow your brow, “About?”

Janis shrugs, “I have a few guesses, but Y/n when a woman responds with ‘K’ she’s pissed.”

“I didn’t even do anything,” you pout.

Janis puts a hand on your shoulder, “I don’t how to break this to you champ, but you picked my art show over her party.”

You shake your head, “I did not.”

Damian hums, “But you did.”

“I said we’d be there, didn’t I?”

Janis nods, “Yea, but after my art show.”

“Does that matter?”

“Yes,” your two friends say at the same time.

You deflate, “Well shit.”

“You don't have to come to my show. We can just meet up at the party,” Janis suggests.

“No way, I want to be there for you,” you immediately dismiss the idea. “She’s just going to have to be mad at me.”

You hated it when Regina was mad at you. She had the deadliest silent treatment known to man. You had tried approaching her when lunch was over, but she walked right past you.

You had rushed out of one your classes to wait for her to get out of hers, but again she ignored your presence. The last time you tried to approach her at her silver Lexus convertible, but Gretchen stopped you before you got too close.

“Regina doesn't want to speak to you right now,” Gretchen blocks your path to the car.

“I can tell, but I need to speak to her.”

Gretchen stands her ground, “Sorry Y/n, but you pissed her off. I can take a message if you like.”

You peek over Gretchen and see Shane Oman leaning on the outside of girlfriend’s car. He talks to her with a cocky smile on his face. You watch as she giggles at something he says from the driver’s seat.

You clench your jaw, “No thanks.”

You turn on your heel and Gretchen calls after you.

“You don't want to say you're sorry?”

Your eyes cut back over to Regina and Shane, “Nope.”

The next day is Wednesday.

The morning is rough for you. You didn't sleep well causing you to wake up late. You attempt to get dressed quickly, but you struggle to decide if you’ll wear pink. You decide against it.

Traffic isn’t kind to you and though originally you thought you’d make it by the beginning of second period, you show up in the middle of the class.

All eyes cut to you as you rush into the classroom. Ms.Norbury starts to scold you, but she takes one look at you and stops.

You sit behind Janis, who looks at you with concern. Damian has the same look to your right.

You ignore their stares and focus on the lecture until the bell rings. When it does Ms.Norbury asks you to stay after class.

“You look a little worse for wear, everything ok at home?”

She’s wellness checking you. That’s how bad you look.

“Rough night, sorry for being late,” you apologize.

“I’ll excuse it this once, but be more mindful next time, Y/n.”

When you exit the classroom, Janis and Damian are waiting for you.

“You look like shit,” Damian says.

Janis nudges him, “He doesn’t mean that.”

“Uh no, I do,” he doubles down.

“Thanks,” you follow them to your third class.

Janis stops you before you can enter the class, “What’s up with you today? It’s Wednesday, you don’t have any pink.”

“Regina’s not talking to me right now, ” you deadpan.

“And?” Janis presses for more information.

“And I saw her flirting with Shane Oman yesterday after school,” your tone gives away how much this bothered you.

Janis sighs, “Well it’s third period. You know Regina always skips to fix her makeup after gym. She’s probably in a restroom right now.”

You shake your head, “She doesn’t want to talk to me, Janis.”

“Dude, don’t make me be the voice of reason. This is bothering you, just find her and talk it out,” Janis pleads.

You stand your ground, going into the classroom, “Maybe later.”

When it’s time for lunch you sit with Janis and Damian. They try to talk like normal, but your mopey attitude really dampens the mood.

“Earth to fellow homo, do you come in fellow homo?”

You look up, unamused at Damian, “Funny.”

“This ain’t gonna work. You need to talk to Regina asap,” Janis motions towards The Plastics table.

Gretchen, Regina, and Karen are all chatting away like it’s a normal Wednesday.

“Maybe you were right Janis. How do I even do it?”

You put your head down in your arms. It’s just enough to peak at the table. You see Shane Oman walking over. It makes you sit up straight.

You watch as he stands at the table talking with the rest. Then you feel your blood boil when Regina scoots over making space for the man to sit.

You stand abruptly, it draws some attention to your table.

“Y/n,” Janis calls your name.

You shake your head, “I’m going home.”

Though Janis and Damian want to follow you, they stay seated. Janis looks over at the Plastics table to see Regina following you with her eyes. There’s not much change in her demeanor, but she swears she can see a sliver of concern.

Janis can’t stop herself from getting up and walking over to The Plastics table.

“Excuse me no art freaks allowed,” Gretchen tries to fend you off.

Regina puts her hand up, “She’s not here to talk to you. So don’t address her. What do you want Janis?”

“Are you not going to go after her?” Janis questions her.

Regina flips her hair, “Why are you planning on it instead?”

Janis rolls her eyes, “Look Regina, I know you think there’s something going on between Y/n and I, but there isn’t. There has never been anything between us. She’s my best friend, that’s it. She’s your girlfriend, and she’s falling apart because you aren’t speaking to her.”

“Fine, I’ll go talk to her,” Regina gets up.

“Gina, why don’t you-”

Regina glares at Shane, “Don’t call me that. Ever.”

“But"

“But nothing and last time I checked you weren’t wearing pink. So you can excuse yourself from my table. Thank you and goodbye.”

The most popular girl in school calmly gets out of her seat and starts following the path you took out of the cafeteria.

She finds you in the parking lot kicking the door to your car, while yelling profanities.

“Come on loser,” she calls over to you.

You stare at her for a moment before dragging yourself over.

“My car’s out of gas,” is what you say to her.

She waves her hand dismissively, “I’ll get it towed. Now come on.”

“Regina,” you stand your ground.

She groans, running a hand through her hair, “I hate it when you call me that.”

“Well I hate it when you talk to Shane Oman. So I guess we’re even then,” you challenge her.

“Fair point. What can I say to get you into my car?”

It’s your turn to cross your arms over your chest, “We can start with sorry.”

Regina clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “I’m sorry Y/n. Now can you get in.”

You wordlessly climb into her convertible. She’s annoyed by it, but she keeps it to herself.

She drives in silence for a long time before her grip on the steering wheel tightens, “I am jealous of your relationship with Janis.”

You didn’t think she’d start the hard conversation, “You don’t have to be. Janis and I are just friends.”

Regina lets out an irritate huff of air, “I know that.”

“Then why were you ignoring me all yesterday,” your tone is somber as you speak.

“Y/n, I’m Regina George. I’m not used to sharing anything. I don’t have to work for attention. I get it when I ask. It’s the same with everyone, even you sometimes. Unless it involves Janis or Damian,” she admits.

You look at your lap, “I don’t want to apologize for giving my friends attention.”

Regina is hesitant as she reaches over the middle console of the car to hold one of your hands. You let her hold your hand.

“That’s not what I’m asking. I just need time to get used to sharing you. It was already a lot to not be mean to Janis. Now I have to get used to the art kids being staples in your life. I’ll do it because I love you, but I can’t promise that I’ll just stop being jealous.”

You squeeze her hand, “I love you too Gina. My friends are important to me, but I promise that doesn’t make you any less important. You’re my girlfriend and I never want you to feel like I’m picking anyone over you. Without you, I’m a mess baby. One day of not talking to you and my sleep schedule is shit, my hair’s a mess, my clothes don’t match, and I don’t have gas in my car. None of that even compares to how empty I felt without you.”

Regina pulls into her driveway effortlessly. The car barely stops before she’s leaning over to kiss you.

Regina’s kisses are usually fierce and unrelenting. However when she does decide to be soft with you, you melt against her. When her hand’s gently cups your cheek, and her lips move slow against yours, it feels like you’re on fire.

She kisses you like she’s afraid you’ll reject her. Instead you pull her closer, she nearly falls into your lap, when she climbs into the passenger seat.

Your arm circles around her waist, keeping her steady against you. When she grinds down into your lap, she let’s out a breathy moan against your lips.

“I’m sorry baby,” it’s more genuine when she says it this time.

You nod, your forehead resting against hers, “Forgiven.”

“Good. How about we finish making up in my room?”

She opens the passenger door and gracefully exits the car. You follow her with your eyes.

“That sounds amazing.”

You scurry out of the car after her. Happy that the argument was past you, and giddy to go to her room. Regina George had a soft spot for you and hopefully she knew that she had your heart in her hands.

[xjulixred45x]

Oh my gosh imagine how the boys would be falling in love with pregnant yuu (obviously in this situation yuu would be around their age)! Maybe just the 3rd years and maybe 2nd years too.. I’m sure they’d all be good dads in their own way!

Oh, sure! I really like platonic content for these series, but I'm not at all against the idea of romance! Especially for this kind of Yuu.

Since we're talking about a Yuu who's the same age as the TWST boys, it's likely that her baby was the result of a casual relationship (which he didn't follow through with), but she still went ahead with the pregnancy. NOW, I won't be able to write about ALL the second and third years in this post (because I want to leave my bed at some point), but I'm going to include the ones who, in my opinion, would be the most likely to be good adoptive fathers for Sheila/husbands for Yuu.

Rook Hunt

OBVIOUSLY WAS GOING TO BE ON THE LIST; he only sees beauty in different forms, and he believes Yuu has a unique kind of beauty, not only for being herself, but for forming a new kind of beauty! Definitely a great emotional support if Yuu is feeling ugly or unattractive during the pregnancy. Don't worry, Rook appears out of nowhere and starts reciting everything he finds beautiful about her (which mean, absolutely everything).

Rook has a large family, with both older and younger siblings; he knows how to handle children. Yuu probably doesn't even notice him getting out of bed during the night when Sheila is crying and he goes to calm her down, whether it's changing her, feeding her, or simply singing her a lullaby. He happily does it! (The only downside to this is that he sometimes stares at the baby for a long time after she falls asleep, but hey, it's Rook.)

Vil Scoenheit

He grew up with a single father who not only managed to have a stable career and raise him lovingly, but also supported him in his own career. He has great respect for single parents in general. So it's not unusual to see him helping Yuu when her pregnancy is more prominent and/or when Sheila is already born. He's surprisingly patient with the baby, or little potato, as he calls her. He loves taking her and Yuu shopping for clothes (baby clothes don't fit very quickly, after all, but it's an excuse to spoil them both). He's the kind of father who says Sheila "should have self-esteem for breakfast, lunch, and dinner."

They divide Sheila's care equally, though Vil insists on babysitting the newborn so Yuu can rest and recover (or when Yuu is having particularly difficult days due to health-related issues). On days like this, it's not uncommon to find Vil with Sheila on his lap, wearing an outfit that's a miniature replica of Vil's, looking everyone in the soul with her little eyes (sometimes she tries to imitate Vil's poses, much to everyone's amusement).

Trey Clover

WAS OBVIOUSLY GOING TO BE ON THE LIST. X2 isn't just an older brother, but he's the only one who keeps Heartslabyul from going completely crazy. Plus, HE HAS GREAT DAD VIBES. Trey probably feels close to Yuu and, like some 6th sense, decides to help her with things, give her healthier desserts for the baby, offer to cook together when she starts having weird cravings—all of this, AND THEY'RE NOT EVEN DATING YET! It drives first-years crazy to see so much longing and chemistry, but they're both denser than rocks.

Trey definitely carries Sheila in a makeshift baby carrier and has perfected the art of multitasking. While he's cooking, he can cradle Sheila, and if she's hungry, he'll give her her bottle (or give her a taste of whatever he's cooking, but shhh). He also makes a lot of dad jokes, the kind of dad who does the "you know what's better than (insert thing)? BAM! (shows you Sheila in the carrier)" thing. He and Yuu strike the perfect balance. Just don't let him feed Sheila at night, or you'll wake up with a super chubby baby.

Silver Vanrouge

Similar to his father, Silver feels almost obligated by duty to make sure his pregnant partner is properly cared for, especially when he sees Crowley neglecting her. Silver feels more alert around Yuu, especially when she needs help. He's like her knight in shining armor. He carries her when her feet hurt, he carries heavy things for her, and Silver keeps any harm from coming to Yuu and her baby in general.

Sheila seems to sleep better when she's with Silver, and so does he. Luckily, Sheila crying is one of the few sounds that can get Silver on his feet almost immediately. Ironically, he becomes more active because of this (even if it's at night). Silver has no problem changing the baby or feeding her at night; after all, he sleeps most of the day. He prefers Yuu to sleep peacefully. He'll make sure they're safe.

Ruggie Bucchi

It sounds weird, but hear me out. Ruggie canonically brings food for the children in his hometown; he's experienced; he's all about community. He probably avoids Yuu at first because of what happened in Book 2, until it becomes clear she needs assistance with her pregnancy and they start to bond. Ruggie is the type of person who tries to distract Yuu from the more unpleasant parts of pregnancy with laughter, whether it's telling her stories about Leona he doesn't want anyone to know or about his town; it works 9/10 times.

Ruggie is also very good at teaching Yuu various tricks, whether it's how to help Sheila learn more efficiently, how to eat the things she's given without complaining, how to make baby clothes last longer (they're cute, okay?), how to save money, etc. Knowing Ruggie, he'll probably use Sheila so Leona doesn't make him do all his work for a couple of days. Do you know what that menas Sheila? Father-daughter time!

Jamil Viper

OBVIOUSLY HE WAS GOING TO BE ON THE LIST SUPREME. He's dealt with Kalim his entire life, takes care of all of Scarabia, knows how to cook and detect poison, etc. He's the kind of boyfriend who, when he finds out Yuu's pregnant, becomes even more meticulous and quite delicate. It's not that he thinks Yuu can't handle herself, but now he can't help but treat her like she's made of glass. Basically, his mother-hen mode intensifies by 200 percent. The kind of boyfriend who scolds Yuu if he eats too little.

It's a bit tense with the baby at first, but he's relieved to a certain extent. Since he and Yuu aren't married and Sheila isn't his, she won't be a servant to the Al-Asims. However, he insists that the baby sleep with them as much as possible, between them. He tries to be strict but loving, to be the "bad cop" and Yuu the good cop, though it's hard not to give in under Sheila's blank stare and her chubby little hands (he can't; he eventually gives in; she looks too much like Yuu, after all).

Kalim Al-Asim

Best boy, he's so pure and innocent. He loves EVERYONE; there's no room for hatred in his heart. He doesn't see Yuu as any different because she's pregnant until Jamil explains that she can't have such intense parties for the sake of the pregnancy. He then understands the situation better and tones down the intensity of his parties a few notches. But yes, he wants to have a "mini" party every trimester (originally one per month, but they agreed it was better per trimester). He's so excited about the idea of the baby, he doesn't even care that it's not his; to him, it is his and Yuu's, and he's going to spoil them so much when he finally meets her!

If Kalim's family gets involved, they'll most likely send servants to help with baby matters, but Kalim insists on helping! He wants to learn how to be a good father to Sheila; of course, he needs some guidance from Yuu and Jamil, but he has every intention of improving. At the end of the day, after much play, practice, trial, and error, Kalim and Sheila can be found asleep in Scarabia's living room, very happy with the end result.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[prettydaisygirl]

I don’t know if you already wrote it but, can you do Childhood friend with James Potter? Can it be a hurt to comfort?

Hello, nonnie! Thank you so much for requesting! This really got away from me, I'm not gonna lie… This is the longest thing I've written for James so far. I hope this is what you were looking for! Love you, enjoy <3

childhood friend!James Potter x fem!reader & the cruelty (and mercy) of childhood love ✿ 3.7k words

cw: fem reader, wizard!James, muggle!reader, childhood crush, first kiss, James breaks reader's heart, James ghosts reader, Lily dies (I'm so sorry), I apologize if I messed up anything canon I don't usually write for the wizarding universe, angst with a good ending

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

1969

For all intents and purposes, you’re having a good day. You had gone on a walk to the library with your mother for a new book, you’d had some popcorn as a snack (your favorite), and now you’re playing outside in the garden in your favorite dress while the sun shines down from high up above you. The light from the sun’s rays dances around you as you move, your giggles a symphony of joy and happiness on this beautiful summer day. 

You spin around, arms in the air, when you notice a boy watching you from the fence, arms resting on top of it. You stop, quickly lowering your arms. For some reason, you feel embarrassed to have been caught playing, even though it’s your own garden. Stupid boys.

“Hi!” The boy says brightly, and your head spins for a moment. From the twirling or the boy, you aren’t sure.

“Hi,” Your voice is significantly more hesitant than his, and you take a small step back from the fence. He’s bigger than you, taller, at least a year older if not two. His hair curls in chocolate ringlets against his forehead, his dark eyes shining just as brightly as his beaming smile. 

“My name is James!” He says, sticking his hand out over the fence toward you. “But everyone calls me Jamie.”

You eye his hand wearily, unsure if it’s safe to talk to him. Your mother tells you not to talk to strangers, but this boy seems nice enough.

When you don’t immediately take his offered hand, he reaches his other hand over the fence as well.

You look between his offered hands before looking up at him with eyes full of confusion. 

“I thought you might be left handed.” He says, his laugh sweet and contagious. You find yourself giggling, taking one of his offered hands in a handshake. You tell him your name, and he decides that the two of you will be best friends. 

You play together for the rest of the afternoon. James makes you laugh, teaches you games about magic and wizards, dragons and some weird sport called quidditch that you’ve never heard of. You chase after him, he saves you from the scary dragon, and the both of you are red-faced with sore bellies from laughing by the time the sun threatens to dip below the horizon. 

Your mother calls out to you, calling you inside, and you find that you don’t want to stop playing with James. He tells you he’ll be back tomorrow, with the promise of mermaids and pixies. 

He does come back the next day. And the next day. And the next. By the end of the summer, the two of you are inseparable. Your parents don’t seem to mind the boy coming to play in the garden, and he’s very polite to them when they speak to him. You spend almost every day together, laughing and playing and innocently enjoying each other’s company in the way only children can. 

When school starts again in the Fall, you see him less. Your play dates are mostly on weekends, or late evenings when your mother lets you stay out a little past dark if you promise to stay in the garden.

James doesn’t go to your school. You’ve asked about him, and no one even seems to recognize his name. When you ask him about it, he tells you that he doesn’t go to real school until he’s 11. Your mother tells you that this means James must be homeschooled, but you don’t think so. He seems confused when you show him your homework. 

It doesn’t matter to you, though. You wish James went to your school so you can see him more, but you’re content to play with him on the weekends. He is a bit strange, different from the kids you play with at school, but you don’t mind. Your friends at school don’t even believe that James is real, which makes you upset. James is real, he’s amazing, and he’s your best friend. 

The next summer is much the same as the previous one. James spends almost every afternoon playing with you in your garden. You laugh, pretending to be werewolves or ghosts, finding yourself enamored with James’ stories. He’s the best friend you’ve ever had.

1971

James spends all summer babbling excitedly to you about how he is going to school this year. He talks all about his classes, and his teachers, and how he’s so excited to go watch quidditch. He wants to live in some place called the Griffin Door. You think it sounds cool. You listen, you try to match his bright, happy energy, but the whole time, your brain is preoccupied. 

“So you… you won’t be here to play with me on the weekends?” You ask softly, picking at the grass next to your skirt. The two of you are sitting in the garden under your favorite tree. 

James’ smile falters. “Well, I- I mean… no. Because I’ll be at school.” His words are slow like he hadn’t thought about it before. He watches the way your shoulders droop, and he’s quick to try and cheer you up again. “But I’ll be back for Christmas!” 

“You promise?” You ask, turning to sit on your knees beside him. You stick out your pinky, eyes focused on his. He nods, looping his picky with yours. 

“I promise.” 

He does come back for Christmas. You missed him even more than you thought you would, more than you thought possible. He smiles brightly when you spot him in the garden, spinning you around happily as you hug him. It’s a little difficult with your coats and earmuffs on, but your joy in seeing your best friend is worth it. 

You invite him inside for hot chocolate and cookies, and your parents let the two of you sit in the living room. The Christmas tree sparkles brightly, warming the room around you. 

He tells you about his lessons, though you struggle to keep up with a lot of what he’s saying. You’ve never had any lessons like James’. He tells you about his friends, and you listen intently. Peter, Remus, and Sirius seem very nice, if a little mischievous. You’re happy he has friends at school, but you can’t help as some gross little feeling bubbles in your gut at the idea of sharing him. 

He comes over Christmas evening with a gift for you, a painting of a butterfly that you swear has wings that flutter when you aren’t looking directly at it. You give him a sweater you helped your mum knit, and James acts like it’s the best thing he’s ever owned in his life. You hug him good-bye, and he pats your head and says “see you next summer!”

1975

James is acting weird. Maybe not weird, but different from how he normally acts, and you can’t figure out why. You’re teenagers, things are changing, obviously, but you’ve known James to act the same towards you the entire time you’ve known him, including during last Christmas. 

He smiles gratefully at your mother as she hands him a glass of lemonade. He takes a long sip, and you wait for your mother to go inside before leaning forward, narrowing your eyes at your best friend.

“Why are you acting like that?” You ask him, tilting your head just a bit. Your tone isn’t accusatory, just curious. But you’d think you told James you killed his dog, he practically jumps out of the metal chair. It makes a loud scraping sound against the brick below it which makes you jump too. You raise your brows and he looks sheepish, knowing he can’t deny it.

“I just… you look pretty in that dress.” 

You think you just died and went to heaven. 

Over the last few summers and Christmas breaks when you’ve seen James, you’ve developed some significant feelings for him. It seems like a really strong childhood crush that will fade away, waning during the school year. But then, you see him again and it comes crashing back.

So, needless to say, the smile that breaks across your face might be the most genuine one you’ve ever given.

“Thank you!” You say, voice a bit thick with gratitude and a whole host of other emotions as you look down at your dress. It’s your favorite color, and James knows that.

A while later, just as the sky is beginning to turn pink, you lean against the fence next to James, playing with a flower. He has his head tilted back, face toward the sun. His freckles have darkened over the last few weeks, and you blush as you suddenly imagine yourself kissing every one of them.

“You never answered my question,” You say, turning your head to look at him as you twirl the flower stem lazily between your fingers. The corner of James’ mouth tilts up but it’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re referring to.

“What question?” He asks, brushing some of his curls off of his forehead. You should get him a headband.

“Why you’re acting strange.” You rest your head on your hand, ignoring the way the texture of the wooden fence digs just a bit into your skin. 

“I thought I did.” He says, and he tilts his head in a way that mocks the way you normally do it. You narrow your eyes at him and he playfully swats at your face. You dodge, giggling.

“Hey!” You say, swatting back at his hand. He uses it as an excuse to trap your fingers with his own, interlacing them together. You swoon, your eyes going soft as you look at him. “What was your answer then?” 

James still doesn’t answer. Instead, he leans forward, pressing his lips to your own. You inhale sharply, and he takes the chance to guide you through the kiss softly, sweetly. He brings your hand up to rest at the back of his neck, his arms moving around your waist to pull you closer. It’s everything you could’ve ever hoped for in a first kiss, and more. It’s like exploring universes with him again, this boy who has always created magical worlds for you with tales of dragons and werewolves. You miss those days, he doesn’t talk much about his wizard fantasies anymore. 

You break away from the kiss, blinking up at him. He smiles down at you, and you swear you can feel butterflies in your whole body, not just your stomach.

“You’re amazing,” He whispers, brushing his nose against yours. “There’s your answer.”

The rest of the summer is much the same. You and James spend your afternoons and evenings enjoying each other’s company, sharing soft kisses and low whispers in the summer heat. You hug him tightly the day before he leaves for school again. You tell him you’ll miss him dearly, and he tells you that he’ll miss you more. 

1977

You feel every muscle in your body tense when you spot the familiar mop of brown curls making its way down the road toward your house. You spring off the couch, flying over to the window to make sure you’re not hallucinating. 

It’s really him. James Potter is coming down the road. 

You stand, scrambling to put on your shoes and fix your hair before opening the front door. You approach him just as he turns toward your house. He seems to stop, seemingly unprepared to see you waiting for him. You don’t know how to feel. Your stomach churns but your heart aches. It gets worse as he takes several more steps forward, coming to a stop right in front of you. 

“Hi.” He says. It’s the first word he ever said to you, all those years ago. It had been a lot more vibrant and bubbly back then.

“Hi,” You say back. You think yours probably sounds the same. 

He blinks several times, running a hand through his hair and looking to the side. He clears his throat, shuffles his feet, and looks at the ground. It’s clear he is struggling with what to say.

“Are you just… not going to say anything?” You ask him, and he flinches a bit. Part of you relishes in it, another part feels guilty. You hate this. When he still doesn’t respond, you continue. “James, what happened? You said… you said you’d see me at Christmas and then I just never heard from you again! Two years, Jamie!” 

You find your eyes welling up with tears and you take a shaky breath in, looking up at the sky and taking a step back from him for a moment to collect yourself. There’s a long, thick moment of silence. You have so many things you want to say, so many things you’ve imagined saying. 

I miss you. I love you. I hate you. How could you kiss me and tell me that I’m your favorite person and then never speak to me again? Please come back.

But you don’t say any of those things. You don’t get the chance to say anything at all, in fact, because James is speaking for you. 

“I have a girlfriend.” He says. And your world shatters. “And it’s pretty serious. I think… I think we’ll probably get married right after graduation next summer.” 

The long silence this time is even colder than the last. You don’t know what to think. A girl? Has he ever mentioned a girl to you? Maybe in passing, but most of his stories were about the Marauders, their pranks and mischief that are sometimes so brilliant you wonder how they could ever possibly pull it off. But never a girl.

“You have a girlfriend.” You repeat his words. Blank, emotionless, still processing. He nods, kicking lightly at the dirt with one foot. You will yourself not to cry. “So, why are you here, then?”

You don’t mean for it to come out so harsh, but it does. And James flinches. 

“I just… thought you deserved to know.” 

“Well, I wish you hadn’t!” You finally snap, a tear running down your cheek. You wipe it away quickly, and you watch as James’ eyes follow the movement. You hope he feels bad. “You can’t just abandon someone like that, but this is somehow worse. I wish you would’ve just never come back!”

You turn around, preparing to stomp toward the house but James grabs your wrist. You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he’s stronger than you. He pulls you toward him, wrapping his arms around you despite your fighting. You cry, trying to wiggle out of his grip but it’s no use.

“I know you hate me.” James says, his voice a low whisper that gives away how close to tears he is too, “But you’re still my first best friend. I just… I had to see you, and I wanted you to know.”

You let him finish speaking before you try pushing against him again. He lets you go this time, and you wipe at your face, trying (and failing) not to glare at him.

“Well, I hope it’s great.” You say with a thick sniffle, and as mad as you are, you mean it. “I really hope it works out and you’re happy, James. Really.” 

He doesn’t stop you when you turn around this time. And you will never admit that you watched out the window as he stood in the same place for several minutes before turning and leaving back the way he came. 

1982

Today is a strange day. You knew it when you woke up this morning and there was an owl staring directly into your bedroom window. It stayed there the entire time you got dressed and ready for the day, then vanished once you went to make breakfast in the kitchen. 

You went for a walk, following your normal route, and you found yourself speeding up when you felt like someone was watching. The owl was back, and you’re sure it was the same one. People give you odd glances, like they are watching you from the corner of their eye. It makes you feel uneasy, so you walk home even faster than usual.

The knock at the door during dinner is also an oddity. Since you began living here on your own, there have not been many guests. You don’t pretend to be upset with that, you quite enjoy your solitude with your garden and your books. 

You wipe at your mouth, standing up from the table and lightly padding your way over to the front door. You swing it open, only to feel like the rug has been swept from under your feet.

This is the strangest thing by far, you think. A clearly disheveled, clearly older James Potter holding a small boy that appears to be a carbon copy of him. Except for his eye color.

James says your name, his voice shattering into a million pieces as he sees you. 

You greet him, and step aside to let him in. It’s been about five years since you’ve seen him, and he’s somehow even more handsome than he was before. You didn’t think that was possible.

You help James to settle Harry down in the living room for a nap, encouraging him to help himself to some of the dinner you made. There’s a while that he doesn’t talk, and then like a dam bursting, he does.

He tells you everything, about how all of that stuff with wizards and magic is real. He tells you about the war, about Voldemort and Death Eaters. He tells you about the prophecy, about Peter’s betrayal, and the death of his wife, Lily. You hold him while he cries and you feel guilty for the hatred you had in your heart for the girl who stole his. You never would’ve imagined having to hold him while he mourns the death of the mother of his child.

Harry fusses in the middle of the night, while the moon is high in the sky, and James tells you that he came here because he needs help.

“My mum and dad, they… aren’t around anymore. And obviously, neither is Harry’s mum.” You watch as tears pool in his eyes and you hug him gently from the side, not wanting to overwhelm him. “Remus and Sirius are wonderful with him, but they’re still… dealing with everything like I am.”

You nod, and you tell him you’ll help him with whatever he needs. 

It’s tough, learning to raise a toddler. You’ve never had to parent a child before, though you struggle to call it parenting given the situation. You help James and Harry develop a new routine, watching as it works wonders for Harry and his sleep routine. James eventually returns to work, and you finally seem to grasp that this is real. James is here, and now you wonder if he will leave again. 

The two of you talk one summer afternoon, just like you used to. Harry plays in the grass next to you, babbling away as he chews on his fingers.

“Now that you’re… doing alright, will you be leaving?” You ask him, never one to beat around the bush. He shakes his head quickly, his brow furrowing.

“You think… I’m leaving?” He asks, brushing a hand over Harry’s hair with a smile when the boy proudly shows off the lady-bug on his finger. 

“I mean, I just… I didn’t want to assume the two of you were staying,” You say with a shrug, “You are more than welcome to stay. In fact, I want you to stay. But I know you… usually have other plans.”

There must be something in the way you say it because James visibly deflates. Harry shows you the bug and you make a silly face at him, which makes him giggle before he returns to playing with the grass.

“I never meant to hurt you,” James says, and you nod. He’s told you before that the summer he didn’t see you wasn’t because he didn’t want to, but because Sirius had run away from home and had come to live with them, so he didn’t have a chance. 

“I forgave you a long time ago, Jamie.” You say with a shrug and a light sigh, tilting your head back and enjoying the feeling of the sun on your face. “I was a child with the world’s biggest crush and I felt like it meant I wasn’t good enough for you. I’ve grown up, I understand you had other things going on.”

“Of course you’re good enough for me!” James is quick to correct you, but his words seem to surprise himself just as much as you. “I mean… I did really like you. Things with Lily just… fell into place.”

“You don’t need to explain it to me, James. I… I’m glad you had your time with her, and of course I adore Harry more than anything. I mean it when I say you’re my best friend.”

“Do you think…” James licks his lips and the movement catches your eye. “Do you think we could ever explore what we started that summer?”

The question catches you a bit off guard, and you purse your lips as you let it hang in the air. Harry giggles loudly as a moth flies by his face. 

“I think… we could. Eventually.” You say finally, and James brightens just a bit. You do too. 

“I can wait.” James says with a nod, “I made you wait a long time for me, so I’ll wait however long you need.”

“Promise?” You ask, sticking out your pinky. You can see the same scene, in this same garden, a decade ago. His answer is the same as it was then as he interlaces his pinky with yours.

“Promise.” 

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[ninasodiiva]

1. 2. 3.

PAC Reading

what does summer 2025 has in store for you? 👙🧴

hi babes i'm back again, i know it's been a while and honestly it's because i didn't feel like making pick a cards lol but anyways summer is around the corner (finally 🙏🏼) so it would be a perfect sneak peek into what can you expect from it, hope you like it!

pile 1

hi and welcome pile 1, let's get into your reading <3 this summer the energy i see you in is go getter, it seems like you are working on a project that's very dear to you and you are determined! im picking up different things, it could be a summer job to earn some money, an internship, planning a big celebration such as a wedding (this one is heavily shown in the reading), some of you could be welcoming a kid to the world (if so congrats ✨) or babysitting. so random but some of you could be turkish idk, turkey is relevant here because the song Simarik by Tarkan started playing, and from what i know it's a very played song in weddings. anyways, the point is that you will be working and hustling HARD and as much as i love that for you because spirit is saying success is assured for you, i have to bring attention to the fact that you have a tendency to overwork yourself. i see some mental blockages regarding this project because you're obsessing TOO much over the results, you might feel like you're not doing enough or that you won't finish this thing in time. spirit is saying balance is needed and they want you to enjoy the warm and beautiful whether as well! 🐚💐 by obsessing over the outcome you will only overwhelm yourself with questions and insecurities, it's better to be slow and steady they say. spirit is saying you need to listen to your body and your soul, just because another persons routine works for them doesn't mean it works for you and that's totally normal, you create your own new balance ⚖️ since i'm tapping to your energy i can tell tell you you won't have any problems achieving this goal babes, you're a very determined and disciplined person!! success is in the future for you (it's shown in the cards) but pleaseee FIND BALANCE. and it's funny because i asked spirit what's this goal about and it's something you're supposed to enjoy working on, so yeah. stop to smell the roses and then keep on going with that dream of yours! 🩷

i see you much more relaxed and free towards the end of the summer, you're getting your well deserved rest 🌞 and also sharing with the world your much awaited project. seriously i'm feeling this could be a wedding it feels like a big big celebration! lastly i wanna say that it's important to trust that you are making the best decisions and to trust your intuition, i sense some doubtful energy from you, you might want to please everyone but if you do so this project you have will lose all your essence and magic 🪄

that's all for now babes, let me now in the comments of it resonated. i hope it was helpful and i'm sending you lots of love ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

check my other readings in my profile if you loved this one!

masterlist ❀༉

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pile two

hiiii pile two, let's get into your summer reading! 🌺 well you're totally different from pile 1 lol. your summer is the definition of we are outsideeee. i see you making really fun plans, like you're saying yes to everything even if it's far away and you don't have a ride back home (be careful babes). it's honestly such a a brat summer if you ask me like i see you exploring new places, meeting new people, dancing, getting drunk and doing things for the plot! you are cool pile two i like you let's be friends lol

there's such a passionate energy for you this summer i feel in the past you might have been in hermit mode and this year you are like FUCK IT this is my life i don't care what anybody has to say and im gonna do whatever the fuck i wanna do period. i'm sensing you're not the one night stand/randomly making out with a hottie person but truly this summer it's a before and an after for you. you want change you want passion and excitement... AND YOU ARE GETTING IT. you will be indulging in adult activities a lot if you know what i meannn, and pretty much feeling playful flirtatious and hot ✨ feeling yourself babe. i don't see you interested in love but guess what, it's coming girl lmao. yes the rumors are true, love will come when you least expect it and summer 2025 has it in store for you 🙏🏼 i don't say stuff like this lightly trust me but the oracle card all talk about a new love offer coming in hot for you, chemistry is HIGH. which is funny cause i feel you won't be open to it at first, you'll be like "seriously? NOW that i'm having fun?" but one way or another this person will make its way into your heart babes. now i have to say that im feeling that you're hesitant because in the past you were quite codependent in relationship and you're afraid this time will be the same, spirit says this is an opportunity to make things right with yourself. don't disguise your fear of love for desire for freedom. this is the perfect time to have open heart conversations with this person and to give yourself the grace to fall in love with love again 🩷 DONT RUSH, have fun and enjoy the summer but be open to receive this offer. this is all i have for you pile two

i hope it resonated, let me know in the comments and i'm sending you lots of love ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

check my other readings in my profile if you loved this one!

masterlist ❀༉

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pile three

hi and welcome pile three, let's get into your reading shall we! 🪸

the definition of your summer is that kali uchis song that says "cause after the storm is when the flowers bloom", i really feel this last months or the last year has been really hectic for you in all aspects of life, maybe you just finished college or something of the sort and now this is your first summer before going into "the real world", or it could be you changed jobs. in your love life i see clearly there has been heartbreak and pain, im seeing a really toxic situation with another person where you don't know where you stand in the relationship. maybe this person played with your feelings or gave you hope when in reality they weren't taking you seriously. im so sorry to hear that pile three, whatever the situation is, its ending for good! 🤍 this summer 2025 you will be in hermit mode, which basically means introspection and healing. that doesn't mean you'll be by yourself or bored, the rest of the cards indicate an excitement for adventure and the pleasures of life ✨ this summer you are resting, slowing down and letting life treat you the way you deserve. it pretty much feels like when you're laying down and the sun is tanning your skin softly, the breeze is soft, there's a cocktail in your hand and beautiful music playing in the background. you will be SO in the present moment, some of you might travel somewhere. you just finished a very VERY big chapter in your life and the universe wants you to relax and decide what do you want for yourself in your next chapter. what are your priorities, where do you want to live, what job, what kind of people would you love to surround yourself with... the universe is saying "ask freely, anything is possible for you, i got it!" wow pile three i'm so sorry happy and proud of you, i just heard that song from Tiana "trials and tribulations, i've had my share" that was you in the past but this summer you're starting new!!! "i'm almost there, i'm almost there. people down here think i'm crazy, but i don't care" yessss pile three period. this summer is self care, self love, excitement, lust for life, slowing down and being present, enjoying the finer things of life 🥂 spirit is asking you to relax and enjoy this time because you deserve it, ignore those negative intrusive thoughts if the pop up and if you need help with ANYTHING ask those around you to help you, really important. you're my favorite pile babes but don't say anything 🫣

. although i feel you are not interested in love because of what happened in the past, the cards do say someone could touch your heart this summer babes. they could be a fire sign (aries, leo, or sag) doesn't have to be. don't you dare to overwork this summer group three, i'm watching you lol. lastly i pulled from my love oracle deck for extra messages, you need to let your ex go, forget about them, they're not good for you and they won't be in your life again don't worry beautiful 💗 someone SO SO much better is the horizon is just a matter of time you'll meet! you deserve the love you long for and even more

that's all for now pile three let me now in the comments if it resonated and i'm sending you lots of love! ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

check my other readings in my profile if you loved this one!

masterlist ❀༉

[callofdoobie420]

neighbor!Price x reader (aka lil birdie down the street)

John isn’t exactly sure why he feels like he’s about to have a heart attack. Quickly scrambling about his kitchen, stirring a sauce, checking the bread, mixing the salad.

Well he does know why he’s having an aneurysm actually…you’re coming over. You. You will be in his house.

It’s always been him at yours, but now…shit, now you will be here in fifteen minutes, and the bread is still at least twenty-five out. He’s normally so perfect at timing, but you have thrown him for a loop.

He rushes to the bathroom as his sauce simmers in a pan. Splashing some cool water on his face and smoothing out his hair.

It’s been a few months now since you’ve moved in, and John had finally worked up the courage to ask you over for dinner. He couldn’t fuck this up. No. This was just one of his steps to making you, his.

First he helped you move in. Then he built you a dresser. Now…he would feed you. The quickest way to anyone’s heart.

At least according to his mum. And about any sane person out there.

The doorbell rang, and he checked his watch. Cursing at how he let 15 minutes slip by just like that. He scooted past the oven on his way to the door, turning off the heat on the meat sauce.

He pulled his front door open with a big grin on his face, and there you were. Your typical beaming smile and flowy sundress, adorning you. He had come to love summery sundresses because of you.

“Come on in love,” he purred, as he held the door open for you. “Why thank you John,” came your coo.

His little birdie.

“I brought you a bottle of wine,” holding out a nice Malbec, as you strode into his house confidently. He supposed you should…it would be yours too.

He took the bottle, holding it away a little to read the label. Not catching the way you smiled at that, finding it endearing. “Sounds delicious love, it’ll work perfect with the pasta…”

You practically moaned with excitement when he revealed what he made. The pasta looked delicious, the bread mouth watering, and even the salad was calling your name.

“And how in the world aren’t you married yet?” You ask playfully, as you take your seat across from John. Missing his smirk as you drape your napkin over your lap.

“Well the job always made it hard to settle down…” he answers, twirling some pasta onto his fork. “Though I do believe I have a lot more time on my hands now, don’ I lass?”

His words didn’t leave much room to imagine the meaning behind them. John had struck you as blunt since the moment you met him.

A small blush crawling over your cheeks, as you dig into your own food. Taking a sip of your wine, realizing you might need some liquid courage to get through this date.

Normally, you felt confident about what you brought to the table. You're hot, have a stable high-paying job (pretty much working for yourself), still pretty young, and not to mention you were funny as all hell. Truly a dream package.

So why the hell did you feel like a schoolyard kid with a crush?!

Thankfully, John took it easy on you for the rest of dinner. Simply taking time to learn more about you, how you grew up, what your dreams and goals are for life. Pretty much anything he can learn, he wants to. He wants to know everything about you.

You're on your third glass of wine, which made it very easy for John to get answers out of you. Probably more than you would have given him had your lips not be loosened by your own doing.

Really birdie...bringing wine? Did you want this as much as he did?

Both of you, falling into the couch. Sitting practically on top of each other. Your legs tangled together, as you slightly faced each other. Still sipping your wine.

"So Johnathan..." you giggle, and John rolls his eyes playfully, "I don't know if you know this. I mean I know you're like super good at knowing things because military- duh" you hiccup, making Price chuckle.

"But you probably don't know this because I kept it secret from everyone!" You exclaim before leaning in to whisper, "you are very fucking hot."

John cant help the smile the spread over his face, "Tha' right birdie?"

"Mhmm, like DILF hot...'' waggling your eyebrows at him, as he shakes his head at you. "What do you not think I'm hot?"

Your little pout pulls at John's heartstrings. He's pretty certain that you know you're hot, but he likes knowing that you want him to think that too.

"Course I do sweetheart..." He murmurs, leaning forward. His hand coming up to cup the side of your jaw. "But I think we should have this conversation when you are sober."

"I'm not even that drunk-" You begin to protest. "I know sweetheart, but I want you to be 100% sober when I tell you how I feel."

The look he gives you has you unsure whether or not your heart stopped. Or if it just beat so fast it burst.

He looked at you like nothing else on this Earth would ever satisfy his sights again.

"Okay..." you breathed out, a small hand moving over his, still placed on your face. "Yeah...good idea...I'll tell you tomorrow..."

"Looking forward to it love..." he smiles, pressing his forehead to yours. Smiling as you sigh and lean into him.

Just one more step checked off to make you his.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Taglist (as always you can ask to be removed! As this is mostly fluffy for now I will tag all. But if this ever hits MDNI territory I will NOT tag if you do not have age in bio): @ilove-otters @ohdrey89 @cdgurlcathy @thbidkbutok

[lvnleah]

Would you write a bit where Hayden is really nervous about motherhood, like terrified, and maybe has a chat to like Amanda or Katrina Gorry or literally anyone with kids who reassure her about the whole thing and tell her she’ll be fine

not alone | no more secrets.

“She’s so good with her,” you smiled as you watched Kyra run around with Harper as the pair of them chased a ball. “I can't wait for days like this when my little bubba’s older.”

“Are you excited?” Katrina asked you, “You’re 26 weeks, it’ll fly by, before you know it she’ll be here.”

You watched Kyra and Harper laughing together, the sight filling you with a mix of joy and nervous anticipation.

“I think so,” you replied, your voice a little quieter than usual. “But it feels so far away, and also, like, right around the corner. I don’t know… it’s like, I’m so excited, but then I panic. What if I can’t handle it?”

Katrina gave you a soft, understanding smile, her gaze moving from Koby, who was resting contentedly in her arms, to you. “You’ll handle it, you will. It’s normal to doubt yourself, especially in the beginning, but you’re already thinking about it. That’s half the battle.”

You nodded, though the doubt still lingered in the back of your mind. The thought of being a parent, being responsible for a tiny, helpless baby, was overwhelming.

“I just keep thinking about how much everything is going to change.” You sighed, “Like, I’m going to be responsible for a little human.”

Katrina shifted Koby slightly and gave you a knowing look. “Everything is going to change. But not all change is bad. You’ve got people around you who love you. You’re not doing this alone.”

Your eyes drifted back to Kyra as she scooped Harper up dramatically, both of them giggling as she spun the little girl in a circle. You smiled without meaning to, the sight easing something in your chest.

“She’s been… really amazing,” you said softly, almost more to yourself than to Katrina.

Katrina hummed. “She’s been completely smitten with you since day one.”

Your head snapped to look at her. “What?”

“Oh come on,” Katrina laughed. “You really think she offers to do grocery runs with you just because she loves supermarkets? Or that she shows up to every appointment ‘just in case you need someone to drive you home’? That girl would wrap you in bubble wrap if she could.”

You looked away, biting down the flush rising to your cheeks. “She’s just being a good friend.”

Katrina raised an eyebrow. “I know what it’s like dating with kids. It was the exact same situation for me and Clara, but it’s close enough. Just let her in and be there for you.”

“I’m scared I won’t know what to do,” you admitted, your hands resting protectively over the curve of your bump. “Like, what if she cries and I can’t figure out why? What if I mess something up and she gets sick or hurt?”

“You will figure it out,” Katrina said gently. “I promise you will. Every parent has those thoughts. I had them and I still get them some days. You’ll learn her little cues, and what she needs. You’ll learn together.”

“Sometimes I lie awake at night just thinking about if she’ll be okay.” You sighed, “Like, what if she doesn’t sleep, or she hates the car, or I can’t get her to feed right?”

Katrina gave a soft laugh. “You’ll have nights where you cry in the dark with her in your arms, and then mornings where she smiles at you for the first time and everything else fades. It’s hard, but it’s not all hard. And you’re not doing this alone, no matter how much it might feel like it sometimes.”

“I don’t even know how to hold a newborn properly,” you whispered, the vulnerability catching in your throat.

Katrina smiled, “You’ll learn. You’ve got a whole load of support. And me. And Kyra. And everyone else who loves you. You’ll learn. Honestly, they just want to be close to you and feel safe. You already know how to love her. That’s the most important thing.”

You blinked back tears, overwhelmed by the weight of it all, “I just want to be a good mum.”

“You will be,” Katrina said without hesitation. “Because you already care so much.”

Kyra jogged over a moment later, cheeks flushed and hair wild, carrying a breathless, grinning Harper in her arms.

“She wore me out,” Kyra laughed, carefully lowering Harper onto the picnic blanket beside you. “You alright?” she asked.

You nodded, wiping your eyes before the tears could properly fall. “Yeah. Just… having a moment.”

“No over ice cream right?” Kyra asked wearily, “Because if you start crying and screaming over it like you did the other night then I might—”

You shook your head and cut her off, “No, Ky.” you laughed, “Just thinking about everything. About baby girl. About being her mum.”

“Thank god because I couldn’t cope,” Kyra mumbled, sitting down beside you.

You let out a shaky laugh, your hand instinctively rubbing your belly again as your baby rolled gently beneath your palm.

Maybe Katrina was right. Maybe you would learn. Maybe it was okay to be scared, as long as you kept showing up anyway.

[trulybetty]

once is all it takes | III : prodrome

pairings: jack abbot x f!reader, eventually: f!reader x emery walsh, jack abbot x emery walsh, jack abbot x f!reader x emery walsh word count: 1,696 warnings: oral sex f!receiving, penis in vagina sex, we're going to assume that everyone is well versed on contraception here, jack is his own warning, realizations are incoming, no beta, mistakes are my own ao3: linked ⤷ series masterlist

prodrome (n.) In medicine: an early sign or symptom indicating the onset of something not yet fully manifest. In life: the moment before the moment—when something starts to change, even if you don’t yet know why.

There’s a rattle of keys in the lock, and the clock on the oven says 8:04 am.

You don’t look up, you’re at the kitchen counter in your pyjamas you’d slipped into as soon as you’d gotten home from the hospital. Being pulled in last night means you don’t have to go in today—just log in from home later this afternoon.

You should still be in bed, but you couldn’t sleep. On days like this, when you’re home for the rare quiet hours, you feel like you can’t afford to pass them up. You sip your coffee. It’s lukewarm now, but you’re too lazy to take two steps to the right and microwave it.

“Rest of the night rough?” you ask without turning.

There’s a grunt, a drop of a heavy bag by the door. “What gave it away?”

“You only text me at the end of your shift when you’re either proud of yourself or pissed off. You’re not proud of yourself when you make three typos in four words.”

You feel him before you see him.

He exhales through his nose. He’s tired—the kind of tired that lives in the bones. He drops his head to your shoulder like gravity just got more complicated. The faint scent of sweat and antiseptic clings to his skin, and there’s a warmth that only comes from someone who’s been running for twelve hours straight and still makes time to come here first.

His arms come around your waist. Slow. Steady.

You lean back against him, and he presses his face into your neck with a soft sound that could either be a sigh or something closer to a groan.

“You okay?” you ask. He doesn’t reply, just squeezes you tighter.

Jack hums, lips brushing your throat, “I don’t want to sleep yet.”

“Don’t have to.”

You feel his fingers slip under your shirt.

It’s a flurry of stripped clothes, needy lips, and clashing teeth—a blur of breathless laughter and half-stumbled steps to the bedroom—where it’s still dark, blackout blinds drawn against the early morning light.

Your back is against cool sheets, and Jack’s mouth is at your collarbone, then lower, lower, and his hands are dragging your shorts down your thighs like it’s the first time, not the fortieth.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he mutters, nuzzling the underside of your breast.

You laugh—soft, and breathy. “You saw me yesterday.”

“Too long.”

You tangle your fingers in his hair. Let him kiss down your stomach, your hips, the inside of your thigh. Until he comes to settle between your legs like he belongs there.

Because he does.

And when his mouth finds you, when his tongue slides over you slow and deep, you gasp—hands fisting the sheets, legs falling open like muscle memory.

Jack takes his time.

He always does.

You’ve learned by now that he doesn’t rush this. Not when he’s this tired. Not when he’s this close. His control, much like the way he demands it in the emergency department, is the kind that burns, not flashes. He drags every sound out of you until it’s a whisper on your tongue.

And then, when he finally slides up your body, fingers slipping beneath your knee to hook your leg around his waist, when he lines himself up and pushes inside in one slow, devastating thrust—

Your whole body arches.

“Jack—”

He groans, low and wrecked from the back of his throat. “Fuck, you feel good.”

You grip his shoulders, to pull him closer or to hold on—you’re not sure, but you don’t want this to end.

He moves deep. Measured. Rolls his hips just right.

Not fast.

Not rough.

Just relentless.

You’re already so close—so tight around him, you can feel every flex, every inch, every shift of his body against yours.

He kisses you once, hard, then pulls back just enough to look at you.

His eyes are dark. Blown wide. His hair’s a mess. His face is flushed.

“You gonna let me finish inside you this time?” he asks, voice hoarse.

You nod. You’d agree to anything right now.

Jack groans again. Buries his face in your neck. Picks up the pace.

You can feel it—him holding back. Barely. His hand slides up your thigh, grips it tight.

“I’m close,” he mutters.

You hold onto him tighter. The coil in the pit of your stomach curling, looking for release.

And then, with a shudder and a long, wrecked breath—

He finishes.

Deep inside you.

His body trembling as he holds himself up, still buried inside.

Your release is right behind his, and he kisses you through it—slow, deep and lazy. He doesn’t pull out, and you don’t push him away.

Just lie there and breathe. Skin damp. Limbs tangled. His weight solid and warm on top of you.

The air conditioner kicks in to stave off the early morning humidity and the heat that’s risen in the once cool room. The sheets are twisted around your feet. You can see Jack’s cargo pants hanging off the end of the bed.

He shifts slightly, just enough to kiss the side of your jaw, just enough to shift himself deeper.

“Fuck,” he breathes, still not making a move, “I really did miss this.”

You hum, content and languid. “You’ll miss it again if you don’t sleep.”

“I’m good,” he says, he’s not—but you don’t call him on it.

Instead, he drops to the side of you, tangled, panting, skin slick and flushed, his left thigh a weight on your hip, your hands in his hair, then trailing your fingernails down his back.

Minutes pass.

Neither of you speaks.

Then—Jack exhales into your neck.

“Did you see Emery before you left?”

You nod. “Mhmm.”

“You going to read me the riot act too?”

“Who said I read her the riot act?”

“Well, something must have been said based on the fact she was borderline cordial to me at her last consult—well, what’s considered cordial for Emery.”

“Hm,” you respond.

He kisses your neck, your shoulder, “She likes you, you know.”

Your brow furrows.

You lift your head just slightly to look at him, “…I hope so. She’s one of my closest friends.”

Only one, if you really think about it.

Jack pulls back slowly, looking down at you like you just told him the sky is occasionally blue and gravity is an optional suggestion.

He stares at you for a long beat, then tilts his head, mouth twitching like he can’t decide whether to laugh or sigh.

“No,” he says finally, voice still low and lazy. “Likes you.”

You blink up at him.

“I mean… yeah?”

Jack shifts his weight to one elbow, eyes narrowing playfully as he studies your face. “Okay. Alright. Let’s try this.” He holds up his other hand and starts counting on his fingers. “She calls you more than she does her own family.”

“She doesn’t like her family.”

“She eats off of your plate, even when she says she’s not hungry.”

“She has low blood sugar—”

“She has a toothbrush here.”

“She—” You pause. Frown. “Okay, but that’s normal.”

“For you maybe.”

“You have a toothbrush here.”

“I’m sleeping with you.”

“She has a drawer here.”

You open your mouth. Close it. Recalculate.

The silence stretches between you, tension briefly replacing the previous heat.

Jack’s eyes are dancing now, a grin slowly stretching across his face as he watches your brow furrow.

“Then there’s the fact that she’s gotten weirdly territorial since I started coming around more often,” he adds, casually brushing his fingers up your side.

You bite your lip. Replaying the last couple of months over in your head. How she’s started showing up at your place more often than your scheduled wine nights. Her shifts covered, with takeout and a scowl when you asked her how her week was. The way she’d dropped everything to come to that conference in New York when you’d joked that you hated everyone going with you. The way she got quiet when Jack did start spending the night more often. How she’s not quiet anymore, but there were a good few weeks of tension you both pretended didn’t exist.

Jack kisses your shoulder, “She also told me, if I hurt you, she’d ‘scrub out my colon with a wire brush’”

You laugh, “That does sound like her.”

Jack gives you a look. “Babe.”

Your brain flips back through a mental Rolodex of Emery’s texts, her snide smiles, the way she lingered in your kitchen that one night in July—uninvited—chewing a piece of your toast that she hadn’t asked for and watching Jack, who’d just shown up—invited—then left soon after.

“…You think she likes me?”

Jack laughs again—low, warm, wrecked. “For a lawyer, I feel you are so very oblivious right now.”

You stare at him.

He presses another kiss to your shoulder.

Then your collarbone.

Then—grinning—your mouth.

“She likes you,” he murmurs against your lips. “She wants to climb you like a tree and maybe stab me while doing it.”

You blink.

“…Huh.”

Jack chuckles, rolling onto his back beside you. “Yup. There it is. The gears are turning.”

You stare at the ceiling, mouth slightly open. “Wait. So… you’re trying to tell me—”

He closes his eyes, “I’m going to sleep now. Wake me up if you want me to start listing all the times she’s flirted with you in front of me and you didn’t notice.”

“You never said anything.”

His eyes are closed, but there’s a smirk on his face as he rolls onto his side and yawns, his arm around your waist holds you tight, “Didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

You let out a groan and roll your eyes. Jack’s breathing slows, his body relaxing into sleep. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Your phone buzzes from the nightstand, you look over, and the screen is lit up with a text.

You pick up the phone, your thumb hovers over the screen.

Sender: Emery.

“Huh,” you say again—this time a little differently.

[existence-is-a-pain87]

I am begging you PLEASE do Y/N and yandere twisted toons interactions!!! AND MY SOUL WILL BE YOURS. Could you make the, a bit silly too? :)

Silly is my middle name (it actually isn't but who cares? Endri Silly DaDragon has a nice ring to it anyways, hehe)

Twisted With You

The sequel to Talking to You two awesome people asked for!

Yandere!Self-Aware!Dandy's World x Toon!Reader

Warnings: Obsession and other general yandere behaviors

--☆☆☆☆☆--

Everyone became a Twisted eventually. You couldn't do anything to change it.

You tried though. Tried like hell.

You failed.

But even as a Twisted, they retained their obsession with you.

They chased you down, hunting you with desperation in their eyes rather than bloodthirsty rage. (Shrimpo was still angry, but he was always angry).

Did them being Twisted stop you from talking to them? No.

Some of them even could talk back.

And god, was their obsession worse than ever...

--☆☆☆--

Astro

Astro: Starshine...

[Name]: ...

Astro: You look... exhausted...

[Name]: Because of your magic.

Astro: ...please, just stay with me and rest. Just for a little bit...

[Name]: No.

Astro: ...

[Name]: ...if you start chasing me down, I swear-

Astro: ...I'm sorry.

[Name]: ...dang it.

---

[Name]: Astro, can you please stop trying to force me to stay here with you?

Astro: But-

[Name]: I like being awake, y'know.

Astro: It's for your safety-!

[Name]: ...Astro. None of the other Twisteds want to hurt me. What am I in danger of?!

Astro: Their obsessions? The fact they want to keep you as theirs? Dandy?

[Name]: ...touché.

--☆☆☆--

Bassie

Bassie: Hi...

[Name]: Bassie, why'd you plant a flower right outside the elevator?

Bassie: It's for you... do you like it..?

[Name]: It's pretty, but it drastically slows me down.

Bassie: Y- yeah...

[Name]: Also, when you wait right there it gives me little chance to run...

Bassie: Y- you want to run? From me!?

[Name]: No. From Dandy, in case he gets pissed.

Bassie: ...oh.

---

Bassie: Do you... still like me?

[Name]: Of course I do. What makes you think I don't?

Bassie: I look like... this.

[Name]: Yeah, and you're beautiful still. Stop being self-depricating.

Bassie: ...

[Name]: Hm?

Bassie: I love you...

[Name]: Huh?

Bassie: N- nothing! Haha!

--☆☆☆--

Bobette

Bobette: I heard you pick something up, angel~

[Name]: ...

Bobette: Don't worry, I know you're not greedy...

[Name]: ...

Bobette: What'd you grab?

[Name]: Health kit...

Bobette: ...who.

[Name]: Huh?

Bobette: Who made you need that health kit!?

---

Bobette: I'm tired of you spending time with the others...

[Name]: What do you mean?

Bobette: They horde you. I'm sick of it.

[Name]: Wouldn't you technically horde me too if only you got to have me?

Bobette: ...

[Name]: And also aren't I a living, sentient being?

Bobette: ...you ask too many questions, angel. Let's just go cuddle.

[Name]: Ah-

--☆☆☆--

Boxten

Boxten: ...

[Name]: I hear you playing your music.

Boxten: Is it... too muffled?

[Name]: No, even with the ichor in your head, I hear the music.

Boxten: That's a relief...

[Name]: Mhm...

Boxten: Do you... like it?

[Name]: It's very sweet of you, thank you.

Boxten: Always...

--☆☆☆--

Brightney

[Name]: Can you stop turning the lights off?

Brightney: Why?

[Name]: I can't see well in the dark.

Brightney: But isn't it easier for you to find me?

[Name]: I see you just fine in light spaces, I swear.

Brightney: Okay, I'll try to keep the lights on for you then.

[Name]: Thanks.

--☆☆☆--

Coal

Coal: ...

[Name]: You're gonna crush me if you try sitting on my lap-

Coal: Bworf.

[Name]: So like... don't sit on my lap?

Coal: ...bwork.

[Name]: COAL, NO-

Coal: ...

[Name]: NONONO- NOOOOO-!

--☆☆☆--

Cocoa

Cocoa: Choco kiss! I brought you a bonbon!

[Name]: Oh, thank you.

Cocoa: Here, eat it right now!

[Name]: ...Why is it so... dark?

Cocoa: ...

[Name]: Is this... ichor?

Cocoa: ...just eat it.

[Name]: Eh, I'll just wait a bit, okay?

Cocoa: ...okay!

--☆☆☆--

Connie

[Name]: Get out of the machine, Connie.

Connie: ...

[Name]: Connie...

Connie: ...

[Name]: Please..?

Connie: C'mon... just spin the wheel~

[Name]: ...yeah... no

--☆☆☆--

Cosmo

Cosmo: ...

[Name]: ...

Cosmo: ...you're hurt.

[Name]: So I am.

Cosmo: ...who dared?

[Name]: It doesn't matter.

Cosmo: ...

[Name]: Is that a... cookie?

Cosmo: Eat it.

[Name]: It's covered in ichor...

Cosmo: EAT IT.

--☆☆☆--

Eggson

Eggson: ...

[Name]: ...

Eggson: ...

[Name]: I saw you... uh...

Eggson: It was out of defense.

[Name]: But she wasn't trying to hurt you?

Eggson: It was your defense.

[Name]: Why would she hurt me?

Eggson: ...just let me protect you.

[Name]: ...

--☆☆☆--

Finn

Finn: Angelfish, I sea you!

[Name]: Hi Finn...

Finn: Hi~

[Name]: Can you not use your ability on me to slow me down like this?

Finn: I just want you to stay close to me.

[Name]: But I need to go other places.

Finn: I could just bite off your legs if it'll be easier to keep you with me.

[Name]: ...y'know what, your ability on it's own is fine.

Finn: But we'd be matching!

[Name]: I like having legs, thanks...

Finn: Aw...

--☆☆☆--

Flutter

Flutter: ...

[Name]: Huh?

Flutter: ..?

[Name]: I-

Flutter: ..♡

[Name]: Oh my-

Flutter: ..♡

[Name]: Flutter you can't say that-

Flutter: ♡♡♡

--☆☆☆--

Flyte

Flyte: Hello there~

[Name]: Oh, Flyte!

Flyte: You know, my wings are bigger like this...

[Name]: Uh... yeah..?

Flyte: ...heh.

[Name]: Flyte..?

Flyte: Oh, nothing...

[Name]: ...

--☆☆☆--

Gigi

Gigi: Girlie!

[Name]: NO! NOPE! NO-!

Gigi: Get over here!

[Name]: NO! PLEASE!

Gigi: C'MERE!

[Name]: NOOOO!!

--☆☆☆--

Ginger

Ginger: Snickerdoodle, are you..?

[Name]: I'm just mildly injured...

Ginger: ...

[Name]: ...

Ginger: Want me to make you something to make you feel better?

[Name]: Huh?

Ginger: I mean, it'll probably be stained in ichor, so I can just go find you something else.

[Name]: There's no need, but thank you.

Ginger: Of course. Just stay around me, okay?

--☆☆☆--

Glisten

Glisten: ...

[Name]: Glisten, you don't have to hug me constantly...

Glisten: Please just stay close...

[Name]: I will. You don't need to cling to me...

Glisten: Please...

[Name]: I promise I won't...

Glisten: ...I love you, don't leave me.

--☆☆☆--

Goob

Goob: Sib..?

[Name]: ...oh.

Goob: SIB!

[Name]: Guess I'm never escaping this hug...

--☆☆☆--

Looey

Looey: There you are...

[Name]: ...

Looey: Can you stop running? We're not going to hurt you.

[Name]: I know. I just would rather-

Looey: Do you hate us?

[Name]: What?! No!

Looey: Then why do you keep avoiding us?

[Name]: I-

Looey: Just stop running.

--☆☆☆--

Pebble

Pebble: Arf! Bark!

[Name]: ...

Pebble: Bark!

[Name]: No.

Pebble: Grrr...

[Name]: I saw you eat someone, BACK AWAY-!

Pebble: (Whine).

---

Pebble: Bark!

[Name]: ...

Pebble: Bark! Bark!

[Name]: Back.

Pebble: Grrr...

[Name]: ...I think I like cats more now.

Pebble: (Snarl).

--☆☆☆--

Poppy

Poppy: Hi...

[Name]: Hi Poppy.

Poppy: ...Can we..?

[Name]: Yes, we can.

Poppy: Thank you...

--☆☆☆--

Razzle & Dazzle

[Name]: Okay, the two are asleep. Just gotta walk through their circle real quick...

R&D: ...

[Name]: Let's just do this quickly, and not wake them up-

R&D: Hi there~ (Hello...)

[Name]: Huh? Weren't you two asleep!?

R&D: Don't worry about it! Waking up to you is always amazing. (You weren't really quiet when you were talking to yourself...)

[Name]: Oh, I-

R&D: C'mon, let's just cuddle! (...please stay close...)

[Name]: ...fine, just for a bit...

--☆☆☆--

Rodger

Rodger: You're such an oblivious thing.

[Name]: ...

Rodger: Don't give me the silent treatment now.

[Name]: ...

Rodger: Love, don't be like this.

[Name]: ...you're such a jerk.

Rodger: Calm down, love. There's no need to fuss.

[Name]: ...

--☆☆☆--

Rudie

Rudie: ...

[Name]: Rudie, please-

Rudie: Do you still like Halloween now?

[Name]: Rudie-

Rudie: Do you like it more than you like me?

[Name]: I-

Rudie: Say it. Say that Christmas is your favorite.

[Name]: Christmas is my favorite holiday, okay?! Let me go!

Rudie: ...thank you...

--☆☆☆--

Scraps

Scraps: There you are, sib~

[Name]: ...

Scraps: You really need to stop fussing so much. Goob and I are just trying to take care of you.

[Name]: I'm older than you...

Scraps: ...

[Name]: ...

Scraps: Just let us love you.

--☆☆☆--

Shelly

Shelly: Rawr!

[Name]: Hi Shelly.

Shelly: Roar?

[Name]: I'd love that, thank you.

Shelly: (Chitter).

[Name]: Of course.

---

Shelly: Roar..?

[Name]: I don't care that you can't talk anymore, Shelly. I understand you just fine.

Shelly: Rawr!

[Name]: But the possessiveness is a major issue.

Shelly: (Chitter)...

[Name]: It's okay, I know you don't have any bad intentions.

Shelly: (Chitter)!

--☆☆☆--

Shrimpo

Shrimpo: AHDJANSH!

[Name]: You don't need to yell...

Shrimpo: AKRHAIJSNDKAOAID!

[Name]: You're already pinning me down in a hug...

Shrimpo: JSHAIANSNSO!

[Name]: ...if I give you a kiss, will you let me go?

Shrimpo: ...jahshs.

[Name]: Okay, thank you.

--☆☆☆--

Sprout

Sprout: ...

[Name]: I am not eating the ichor cupcake, Sprout.

Sprout: Majdisksjsjksk.

[Name]: I don't care, I'm not eating it.

Sprout: Jaisiansjskksksl...

[Name]: Let me out of your tendril and-

Sprout: Ghasgsik!

[Name]: Gah- Sprout- no-!

---

Sprout: Gahsgsusjl.

[Name]: Y'know, if you didn't break my trust, I'd eat the food you give me.

Sprout: ...

[Name]: Did you ever think of that?

Sprout: Jakdjsiaksjsk.

[Name]: ...figured. Now, just leave me alone.

Sprout: Kaksosjsmsm.

[Name]: Huh? What are you-? Wait-!

--☆☆☆--

Teagan

Teagan: Mskpajshm?

[Name]: The tea is great, thank you.

Teagan: Hsnamsksm?

[Name]: It's a bit ichor-y, but perfect otherwise.

Teagan: Kamsksjsmm.

[Name]: Thank you again, Teagan.

Teagan: Mosnsmm.

--☆☆☆--

Tisha

Tisha: You're filthy!

[Name]: Twisteds covered in ichor keep hugging me...

Tisha: Oh, absolutely not!

[Name]: It's annoying but it's fine...

Tisha: No it's not! We are cleaning you right now!

[Name]: What do you mean..?

Tisha: Take off your clothes, I'm giving you a bath.

[Name]: WHAT?! IN WHAT TUB?!

Tisha: ...valid argument.

--☆☆☆--

Toodles

--☆☆☆--

Toodles: Can we play tag?

[Name]: Can you run on your legs instead of crawling on the ground?

Toodles: ...

[Name]: Is that a no..?

Toodles: ...can we play house?

[Name]: ...sure kid, sure. We can play house.

Toodles: Yay!

Vee

--☆☆☆--

Vee: Stop running already...

[Name]: Maybe then stop spamming me with ads the second I look away from you!

Vee: Just stop looking away then!

[Name]: You are not my sole focus!

Vee: Well, you're mine, so shut up and let me be yours!

[Name]: I swear-

Vee: Just shut up and kiss me already.

[Name]: How? You don't have a mouth!

Vee: We can try anyways, you dolt!

[Name]: I'll only kiss you if you let me leave afterwards.

Vee: Deal. But we're kissing for the next ten minutes.

[Name]: Dang it... fine.

---

[Name]: You know that no one likes pop-up ads, right?

Vee: But they are quite effective.

[Name]: Effective at being annoying...

Vee: You're just annoyed because you're bad at machines.

[Name]: If you stopped spamming me with ads, I'd be better!

Vee: Oh hush.

[Name]: ...

Yatta

--☆☆☆--

Yatta: THERE YOU ARE!

[Name]: Ack-

Yatta: It's VERY ANNOYING when you KEEP RUNNING AWAY FROM US!!

[Name]: Look, yall are amazing, I just can't stay.

Yatta: Doesn't matter. STAY WITH US!!

[Name]: Uh-

Yatta: Will candy make you stay with us? WILL IT!?

[Name]: Yatta, please-

Yatta: CANDY FOR YOU!

Dandy

--☆☆☆--

Dandy: Should've bought somethin' from me, dewdrop...

[Name]: ...maybe don't sell trash items then.

Dandy: Oh, shut your mouth.

[Name]: Go screw yourself.

Dandy: Hehe, you know just as well as me there's no need for me to do that.

[Name]: ...

Dandy: Don't worry, I promise to be gentle...

---

Dandy: You're doing so well on these machines, dewdrop!

[Name]: ...

Dandy: Aw, being quiet now? You know I love it when you speak your mind!

[Name]: ...

Dandy: Better to talk now anyways. You're going to be quiet enough later...

[Name]: ...

Dandy: Hehe... Come out wherever you are~!

---

Dandy: You're not that great at hiding, you know...

[Name]: As long as I can outrun you, I'm good.

Dandy: Pfft- Silly little dewdrop, you can only run for so long...

[Name]: ...

Dandy: I'll catch you in the end~ No matter where you go, I'll find you~

[Name]: I hate you.

Dandy: ...I recommend you take that back right now.

I low-key wanna do interactions with my fan-made Halloween Toons, would yall wanna see that?

Also, I'm so sorry this took so long to get out! It took me forever to make myself sit down and actually write. (Don't worry, I'm good now and next week I should have more free time to write, especially around the weekend.)

[witherby]

The long-awaited next part is here! It's not my best work 😔 be gentle in your criticisms.

Flight of Fancy, part 4

Masterlist is Here!

"Ah, sorry —" Clark apologizes over the comms line when day breaks, "I'm actually in Russia doing search and rescue after a natural disaster. Won't be back for hours. You could try calling Lantern?"

"He's off-world right now." Damian slumps into the chair in front of the bat computer and resists the urge to rub his temples. "Thank you anyway, Superman. You can go back to what you were doing."

"Alright, stay safe!" Clark says, then cuts the connection. Damian punches a few keys and the screens of the Batcomputer go dark. He leans back in his chair and rubs his face, irritated and exhausted. After dealing with the shit show that was Jason scolding him for "tonguing" a victim — which was not his fault! You kissed him, not the other way around! — and then bullying him into coughing up more money than necessary to take his hoodie to a dry cleaner, a headache bloomed and has been steadily worsening with time and sleep deprivation.

He's been up for almost twenty-four hours, now, and called most flight-capable contacts at his and his father's disposal to no avail. Nobody is available for your extraction, and Damian can't let you, an undocumented and uncategorized meta, go off by yourself lest you either get recaptured or end up committing a villainous act without supervision.

So you're stuck in the cave for a full day, until everyone comes together for patrol in the evening to clear the rogues out the metahuman outpost and get you safely moved out of Gotham.

Damian spins in the seat and looks at where you're balled up on the floor. Or, rather, he's looking at your wings, fully extended and wrapped around you like a cocoon. He watches the puddle of feathers gently and silently rising and falling with your dozing breaths after you refused a bed and curled up like this three hours ago.

Cute, he thinks, standing up and stepping quietly around your figure. He slips his fingers underneath the domino mask to rub the grit from his eyes, then messages Alfred requesting two breakfast trays be brought to the cave whenever he has the time. They're delivered half an hour later, the quiet rattling of the butler's cart rousing you again.

"Sorry to disturb you, dear," Alfred says, watching your head poke out and you blink groggily at the food. Damian takes the trays from him with a nod of thanks. "Might either of you require anything else whilst I'm here? I'm happy to check on your stitches."

You shake your wings out as you stand and then carefully tuck them against your back, glancing at your shoulder. The bandages are slightly stained gold, the wound disturbed from how hard you'd shoved Jason back earlier.

You look to Robin for guidance. He gives the bandage a similar once-over, then clicks his tongue.

"That might be wise. Agent A won't hurt you," he promises. "You can trust him."

Alfred bows and offers his hand for you to shake. You grasp it a touch too firmly and just hold it in place for a few seconds, but he just smiles and excuses himself to fetch some supplies from the med bay. While he's gone, Damian carries both trays to the table near the center of the room, placing them down and taking a seat.

"You can come eat," he says. You sit and look at your offerings — buttered wheat toast, two poached eggs, a couple strips of turkey bacon, and a glass of orange juice — with no change of expression. "Something wrong?"

"No," you say, "I just... can't eat this."

"If it's a matter of diet, we can find you something else —"

"I apologize," you gently interrupt, "I mean to say, I don't eat. I don't need to."

Damian pulls the notepad, crinkled from the earlier confrontation with Jason, out of his pocket and jots that down.

"How do you get energy, then?" He asks. You shrug.

"I rest. Other than that, I need nothing."

"That is a shame," Alfred says, returning with some fresh bandages and a small bottle of saline to keep the wound clean. You don't protest when he asks to remove the old gauze. "Should you find yourself curious to try a nibble, I hope it might please you. I am also available for anything else you might require — new clothes, perhaps."

You perk up at that. You dislike the gaping tear in your sleeve, so a replacement robe would be nice.

"Yes," you reply. "Please. What do you require in exchange?"

"Nothing but your measurements, so I can make sure it fits correctly."

You nod, acquiescing to whatever is needed. Alfred pulls out a tape measure and, with your consent, notes your size and approximately how much fabric space you'll need on your back to accommodate your wings. Damian finishes eating by then, so he retrieves the trays and leaves with another bow and a promise to be back in a couple of hours with new clothes.

"Robin," you say, when Damian gets up to go back to the computer. He looks at you intently. "I know I cannot leave this place, but is there somewhere...bigger that I can fly?"

He frowns, shaking his head. "The cave system is mostly long, not wide. It doesn't get much bigger than the part we're standing in."

Damian turns and points to his left, to a dark corridor just beyond the Batcomputer.

"If you don't break anything and keep away from the bats, you can fly around as long as you want. The pathways split off in different sections and levels, but they all lead back here to the center of the cave."

He looks at you again, hand on his hip.

"Does that suffice?"

Well. It's not open air where the breeze can rush through your wings and you can admire the sky overhead, but it's something and you are restless. It'll have to do.

Wordlessly you extend your wings, feathers shaking themselves out as you stretch the limbs, and you take off.

Damian sinks into the chair in front of the computer again, pressing a couple buttons to reawaken the screens. He glances at the roster of available allies and feels his headache intensify when there's no change. Still no help for now. Still stuck in the cave, watching over you and not getting any sleep.

He leans back and rubs his eyes under the mask again, lids drooping. Damian can't hear any wing flapping, which indicates you're likely long gone in the elaborate cave system. He can switch the cameras on the computer from key observation points around the city to the different levels of the cave itself, but the idea of subjecting his corneas to the harsh screens again is nearly unbearable.

You're likely going to be occupied for a while, and you already know not to leave the cave.

Damian could just...can just...

Just rest his eyes for five minutes.

[loversrocktvgirl2]

okay thunderbolts game night idea where alexie forces everyone to hang out together and just calls it "team bonding" time.

i think it's cute and funny

i love alexei he’s that crazy dad/uncle figure to everybody

anyway hope this is what you wanted!!

my mini multiverse of madness…

Thunderbolts* Game Night Headcannons 

word count: 0.7k+

masterlist

It’s all Alexei’s fault that these started, really.

Alexei likes to know things about everyone. If someone has suddenly taken up a crochet hobby, he would like to know. If someone has met somebody else and is dating, he would like to know. And if someone is drinking? He would definitely like to know, because he would like to join them. 

Upon realizing that they had no board games, Alexei sent John and Ava to go pick them up. 

They ended up in a Barnes and Noble, staring at the board games. “I have not played any of these. Ever,” Ava said. 

“No games growing up? Seriously?” John asked. 

“Maybe Yahtzee.”

So John grabs Yahtzee, and then Catan. On upon recalling that you need an expansion pack in order to play with more people, he grabbed one of those, too. 

“What’s that?” Ava asked.

“Catan. Board game. Arguably far better than Monopoly.”

Ava just shook her head and let him pick the rest of the games. At least he was more informed about them than she was.

In the end, they returned with Yahtzee, Catan, a Catan expansion pack, three sets of Battleship, Clue, Scrabble, and Uno. 

“This is wonderful!” Alexei exclaimed when they got back.

“Yeah, but playing with six people is going to be headache,” John said.

“I have never played any of these before,” Ava informed.

“We could do teams?” Bob suggested. “I’d like to be on Yelena’s.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I got the damn expansion pack,” John replied.

“Hey, I think I played this with Sam and Cass,” Bucky said, picking up the small Uno box.

“THEN WE START WITH THAT!” Alexei exclaimed happily. 

“Oh, goodness…” Yelena sighed. 

It ends up turning into a weekly tradition that occurs every Thursday. Bob personally loves when they do a Battleship tournament. They have three sets, so they set up all three and each person takes a seat across another, and when the game is over, everyone shifts over one seat to the right, and they play again against a different opponent. The person who wins the most games once they’ve played all five is the winner. 

Alexei has never won a Battleship tournament. He has no poker face. You can see the worry or relief whenever someone guesses nearby his ship. Yelena knows him better than anyone there, so she beats him easily. 

Catan is even more stressful than Battleship.

At least with Battleship, everyone is separated into pairs. But not with Catan.

Catan is ruthless, an endless game of people teaming up against each other, with each other, or absolutely sabotaging each other. 

John and Ava are terrible. I mean horrible.

Yelena can be fierce competition, and Bob can too, but all the aggression bothers him, and so he’d rather just be friendly with how he plays. No one wants to hurt him in the game, but he still never manages to win. 

John and Ava do whatever it takes to take down the other one. It is stupid.

In the end, either Bucky, Alexei, or Yelena comes out on top, taking advantage of all of the chaos and weaponizing it in order to defeat everyone else and take the construction paper crown declaring “Catan Winner of the Week.” Well, not Bucky. He won’t wear it. 

It is ridiculous trying to play Uno with six people, so the deck of cards remains on the table, and a couple of people play whenever they’re bored or waiting. It’s much more peaceful this way, but still competitive. Bob and Alexei enjoy a game of Uno while sipping pink coconut iced lattes (Alexei’s spiked, Bob’s regular) most Sunday mornings. John and Yelena are later sleepers on Sundays. 

Scrabble isn’t very popular with them. They often play it whenever they’re sick of their other board games. Alexei always tries to put down words that don’t exist, and Bucky somehow always wins. 

Clue is fun. There’s exactly six of them, so there’s a whole lot of moving the people pieces. It gets exciting for all of them. Plus, it’s a little less competitive than Catan. 

Yahtzee is a girl’s night thing, in the end. 

Ava and Yelena wear their matching pajamas, play Yahtzee on the floor,tell each other secrets, watch bad movies just because the lead actor’s cute and just have an amazing time

They alternate rooms between Ava’s and Yelena’s.

There is no schedule. They do this whenever they feel like it. 

So hell yeah, Game Night for the win. 

@spaceycat @vidanand @xo-cench @raikan624 @yeehawgiddyup13 @wpdarlingpan @puer-aurea

just thunderbolts/bob

@papitas-con-sal @yesshewrites1

[plaguedarts]

THE DOODLVERSE!

So this is basically just a collection of my personal designs/headcanons for the digital circus main cast :]

+ More headcanon info under Read More & a little life update at the end!

Okay headcanon info dump lets go!!!

Pomni: The circus's newest and squeakiest jester. She's incredibly good with numbers because her special interest is math. She's been diagnosed with Autism since she was young, but pursued an ADHD diagnosis as an adult. (Headcanon based on @bluepandadraws-log's comics). She's pansexual but doesn't really like to tell people about it unless they're close. Her tail seems to move of its own accord, and Pomni has very little control of it.

Ragatha: A dolly that's a lot tougher than she looks, with a complex for taking care of everybody except herself. Ragatha has many unaddressed "issues" that make her see herself as damaged and too far gone to be saved. She's never sought a diagnosis or therapy for any of it while she was still in the real world, so she isn't even aware that she shows symptoms of OCD. (Headcanon based on ‪@fridgevespidae comics). She's adapted to life at the circus but is by no means comfortable in it. Jax and Ragatha dated in the early days, but Ragatha wasn't all that attached to the relationship. She cared about Jax and still cares about him, but she just didn't LOVE him. She still isn't really sure if she likes guys, but liking girls is something she isn't ready to address yet.

Jax: A rabbitoid who entertains himself by any means possible (usually involving cartoonish violence). Despite how jerky he can be, deep down he cares about everyone else in the circus, especially Ragatha in particular. He's still not over his feelings for her even after all this time, and he's not sure how to cope with them. He's not sure how to cope with most things really. He definitely projects his own insecurities onto people, and he's got a fear of being alone with his thoughts. Can't be with people, can't be alone.

Kinger: The eldest of the group, a king piece who's largely lost his mind. He walks around with a hunch, yet his character model is still the tallest! He has a pet caterpillar toy named "Bug," and it's always crawling around somewhere on him. He may not always be of sound mind, but he only means well.

Gangle: A sweetheart with a mask as fragile as her feelings. Gangle remembers the anime shows she grew up watching more than her own life. She knew very early on that she was different from most people, and thought she had herself mostly figured out until she started questioning her gender identity and sexuality, not to mention being diagnosed with autism as an adult. She likes the label "pansexual," but still doesn't have a solid answer on her gender. For now, they call themselves a "demigirl." Zooble and Gangle are greatly able to relate to each other's struggles, making their bond even stronger. Gangle also has full control over her ribbon tail, often using it as a second appendage.

Zooble: Our local amalgamation of parts that really really doesn't want to be here! Zooble has tried to make the best out of their new body, but can't still can't find something that just feels like THEM. Though certain parts like the fox tail and cat leg seem to put them a bit more at ease. Without Gangle, they might have already gone insane. She's the only one that Zooble truly trusts. (Zooble is also in love with Gangle but in complete denial over it).

Okay now for the life update!

Soooooo I've been gone for quite a bit, and some of you might be curious as to why. I'm still alive as I can be, rest assured. I was just busy focusing on college since this was my final semester leading up to my graduation! It sucked and it burnt me out but I MADE IT!!!

I'm taking these next couple weeks to be lazy, but now I can focus a lot more on my art and stuff!

If you read this far give me a "🐛" because bugs are cool

[lsunstreakerl]

SUNNY. MAX DEVELOPS SOFTWARE FOR F2/F3 SIM. I WILL NEED A CURRENT UNIVERSE FICLET OR SMTH FROM YOU PLEASE. SUNNY R U LISTENING.

okay I know absolutely jack shit about how sim development works and I hate BS'ing in my work, so hopefully this isn't too incorrect! if someone knows better than me, please feel free to infodump about it :)

"Mate, that is way better than when I was in F2."

Kimi squeaks as George's voice startles him, running low over a kerb as his teeth rattle in his head.

"Mate."

"Sorry! I was going to say that Toto wants to do lunch with us— didn't mean to scare you."

He definitely did. Kimi is learning that George is just as prone to jokes and hazing as the other drivers, the only difference being that he's polite about it. Mostly.

Kimi swings out of the sim, stretching his legs with a low groan.

"You can take it for a spin if you are missing it so much."

George snorts, arms folded across his chest. His hair is loose, falling across his forehead, and he's just in a hoodie and shorts— Kimi has seen him more casually in the factory in the past few weeks than he'd seen in the media ever. It makes him feel more human, even if part of him still feels untouchable.

"Yeah, I can't imagine it's improved much."

Kimi shrugs, hugging one knee to his chest to stretch his hips, wobbling slightly on his one leg.

"I liked it— it helps with learning the smaller differences and all that."

George raises an eyebrow, checking his watch before shrugging and stepping into the sim.

"Watch the door and tell me if someone's coming by, so I can blame it on you."

Kimi rolls his eyes, dutifully stepping backwards to be able to view the hallway as he pulls out his phone.

Kimi: george is trying the f2 sim

Ollie: LOL

Ollie: WHY

Kimi: he doesn't believe it's better than when he used it

Kimi: which is stupid

Kimi: of course it's better

Kimi: he's just old

Ollie: don't let him hear you say that

Ollie: the botox mercedes curse is real

Kimi: if he comes in with filler I will tell Toto to set up his retirement account

Ollie: and then put in a good word for me?

Kimi: you are earmarked as a ferrari sacrifice already mate

Kimi: don't even bother

Ollie: I'll fix them

Ollie: just you wait

"Kimi, what the hell are they feeding the dev drivers?"

George sounds incredulous as he takes a corner.

"Why is it so good?"

Kimi laughs, tucking his phone in his pocket.

"I should be asking you, honestly. I am not sure how there is enough time in a formula one schedule to do sim work for us, but it is very nice."

"Huh?"

George takes a corner too sharp in a move that would've sent Kimi into the wall, but he manages to recover it, lips pressed together in concentration for a moment before relaxing again. Kimi feels the envy like a physical beast in his chest, the same way he does every time he's reminded how much further he has to go.

He's always careful to be perfectly ready in the mornings, to have his employee badge clearly visible, but George shows up in casual clothes and an easy confidence, knows all the team members by name, has Susie's coffee order memorized— it all feels unattainable to him. He's not sure how he'll ever match up, and finds himself wondering if it will always be obvious to everyone, if he's always going to look like a kid trying to wear his older brothers shoes.

Still, George had sounded genuinely confused.

"Well... I know Max does a lot of the work, but surely the rest of you do sometimes also? It cannot all be him?"

George goes into the wall, twisting to look at Kimi.

"Verstappen? Wait, no— don't tell me. That's exactly who you mean."

Kimi nods.

"Kimi, I am going to be very serious with you."

George swings out of the sim, stepping forward and putting his hands Kimi's shoulders.

"That man is not normal. Please, please do not use him as your metric for normal people, because he's a freak of nature."

Kimi opens his mouth to try and defend him, but George presses his palm over his face.

"Nope, don't hit me with the hero worship, I don't want to hear it. He's unnatural, okay? Like a freaky racing robot that sometimes glitches and talks about cats instead. He has extra hours in the day and eyes in the back of his head."

Kimi quirks an eyebrow. George sounds fondly exasperated, like Max being inhuman is something he's begrudgingly gotten over. George pauses, and then his eyes look at Kimi, extremely serious.

"And I need you to be a prodigy and come into the team early, because otherwise Toto might actually manage to drag him over here, and I would rather shunt into the barriers full speed then have to be teammates with him, got it? I am counting on you."

Kimi nods, trying not to laugh. Max isn't scary, he's actually very nice— he's always happy to chat on discord and share setup tips, and he'd promised Kimi he was only a garage or phone call away if he needed something. He's much kinder than Kimi had expected the current world champion to be.

George lets his hand fall away, ruffling Kimi's hair.

"Okay, move it, Toto got catering and if we're late all the good sandwiches will be gone."

He steps out of the room, head swiveling both directions to make sure his stint in the sim hadn't been noticed, before walking confidently down the hallway.

Kimi follows dutifully behind.