#this opens up so many different doors....

[enwoso]

CASUAL — leah williamson

wow, it’s a long one. this has admittedly taken me so long to write. i had the idea of this fic at the start of october but for some reason its just took so long to actually finish lol, but anyways as always hope you enjoy🤍

warning: implied smut, mdni 18+

masterlist

"girl where did you end up last night?" your best friend and also flatmate, amelie asked as you sat in your local cafe debriefing from last nights' night out events over a 'morning' coffee — it was more late afternoon — the two of you having very different endings to the night.

you sat swirling the dregs of your coffee around as you tried to find the way to explain, not so much how you didn't end up back at the flat cause you know she's knows that after catching you walking through the front door at nine am this morning in last nights clothes your head hanging from both the severe amount of alcohol you'd consumed last night but also in slight shame.

it was more whose apartment you stayed at you were trying to find the words to tell her about.

"oh y/n. you didn't did you-" amelie began as you nodded as a defeated sigh left your lips. that being all the clarification your best friend needed. ok, it may not be your proudest moment but who are you to deny a sexy, goddess of a women. but you knew this was heading in the direction of your getting another ear full.

"y/n.. what have i told you, you need to cut all ties with leah. you deserve someone who's going to treat you so much better-" amelie reached out grabbing your hands as you were still looking down at your coffee cup, you looked up a little.

you knew she was right, but you couldn't admit that to yourself. there was something about leah she was addicting and no matter how many times you ended up in between her sheets telling yourself it was the last time, it always happened again.

"yeah but-" you began but amelie gave you a stern look as her eyebrows raised as you rolled your eyes, "ok i get the message, i'll put it on my to-do list — cut leah williamson off." you dryly said, knowing it would be easier said than actually done.

"seriously you need too, your acting like a loser-" amelie continued as you opened your mouth to say something about the small insult she'd thrown your way but you were unable to. "you are though, your better than the rumours that people are spitting-"

"how do you-"

"people talk y/n!"

you'd heard the rumours going around the locals plus there'd been some article posted on an instagram post noticing you in leah's car after a match — you being labelled as 'mysterious girl'.

you weren't known to the media, thank god, you were lucky if you had over two hundred followers as if you had anymore than that fans would have an absolute field day with the news.

instead you were just a normal, twenty six year old girl who'd grown up in north london and had the usual nine to five corporate job as well as having a casual relationship with the leah williamson but you kept that under wraps as after all it was just something which was casual.

you'd met through a mutual friend of yours who also happened to be one of leah's teammates. lotte, who you went to school together and you'd stayed somewhat in contact. it always being a pleasant surprise to see her whenever your paths crossed.

you had bumped into her in a coffee shop near hours before you were being pressed up against a club wall by a blonde defender, having had one too many. the two of you had spent the night being overly touchy and flirting, her lips being felt all around your body leaving your skin feeling hot and your head all fuzzy.

"mine or yours?" leah whispered against your ear, as her teeth grazed your earlobe, you having to refrain yourself from whimpering. leah's hands gripping your hips as your were tangled in the ends of her hair.

"yours" you managed to get out, although it was quiet leah hear every letter. her hands reaching up to grab your hand as she dragged you through the club and towards the exit without as much of a bat of an eyelid towards her friends who she was leaving behind.

to both your luck there was a black cab waiting on the side of the road, both of you taking the chance to get in as leah immediately told the driver her address.

leah's hand stayed on your thigh the entire time as her thumb drew little circles absentmindedly, the busy streets of london making it feel like it's taken hours just to get a few minutes up the road.

as you watched out the window there was a cloud of regret you knew you'd feel in the morning but right now that wasn't what you mind wanted. you right now wanted leah.

so as soon as you cross the threshold of her apartment, you were pinned against the wall. the coldness sending a sharp shiver down your spine. "your so gorgeous" leah whispered as her eyes darkened, the sweet innocence of her blue eyes long gone.

inching closer so that your faces were impossibly close, taking one of her hands as it lands on the back of your neck and kisses you. slow but deep.

letting yourself get lost in her lips as it becomes more passionate and searching but then leah leans back a little, realising that you were in the middle of her hallway.

"come with me, baby" she whispers, her accent thick as the pet name rolls off her tongue but laced with love making your head spin even more as she extends her hand for you to grab as she leads you towards her bedroom, pushing the door open with her foot as her other hand laces itself back around you waist pulling you back to being impossibly close to her.

giving her a teasing look as she kisses you again this one more needy and fervent. feeling her hands all around your body nipping and pulling at your skin as you feel the back of you legs on the edge of her bed. a slight push and you back met with softness of her white sheets.

a small moan leaving leah's lips into the kiss as she felt your hands gently squeeze her ass, feeling her smile against your lips knowing that you were having the same affect on her as she was on you. you were both driving each other crazy.

as the kiss grow more sloppy as whines were being strung from both of your lips, your hips mindlessly starting to slowly grind against her. leah moving to kiss your neck leaving small kisses and sucking on your neck that elicited small moans from your lips as your breathing hitches.

leah's kisses to your neck becoming more intense you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second as you hips carried on to move against her. your hands lingering on her back as your nails dug that little deeper, more than likely leaving scratch marks.

"please le-" you moan out softly, needing more.

-

that wasn't the last time you saw the blonde defender, nor the last time you ended up with your limbs tangled between each other.

whenever the other had, had a drink or just when you needed company leah seemed to always be there. you felt like you craved her at all hours of the day. you found your mind sometimes wondering what she may be doing when you weren't by her side.

but you weren't together, it was just a casual thing. is what you found you were telling yourself.

but with each weekend that passed you found yourself spending them with leah more and more often. which is exactly what had happened this weekend.

leah had called you, she never calls you only ever texts. strange is what you thought when you saw her caller id on the screen a small smile slipping onto your lips as you pressed accept.

"hello?" you said as leah was yet to speak, you thought maybe she had called the wrong number. maybe she hadn't meant to call you .

"hi y/n-" she finally spoke but she lacked her usual confident tone, this time it had been replaced with a nervous shake of her accent. like she had something in her head that she needed to get out.

"did you need something le?" you ask as there is a deafening silence on the other end, a few rustling sounds before leah clears her throat.

"um are you doing anything this afternoon-" leah paused as you think to your plans for the afternoon, "more specifically are you doing anything at two?" leah continued as she waited your response as you hummed.

"no i should be free, why?" you asked wondering what this was going to lead to, what did she have planned.

"fabulous!" a breath of relief was let out from leah as she had a big grin on her face on the other line which if you could have saw would have made you smile, "since you aren't doing anything, do you wanna come to my match?"

you felt as though her words had just fell on deaf ears, you couldn't believe what you were actually hearing. ever since you and leah had- well whatever your relationship was it had always been in the darkness of everyone else, behind peoples back and away from prying eyes.

this felt like a step, you didn't know what direction but it felt like it meant something good.

as you tried to contain your happiness you nodded forgetting she wasn't actually in the room with you, "i- um i would love to le"

"great! i'll erm get your tickets sorted and send them over" leah explained as you hummed along before she quickly had to say her goodbyes claiming that she needed to get her pre match routine started.

since having to re-organise your afternoon, you were now going around rushing trying to find an outfit. not knowing if it was too cliche you going in an arsenal jersey of leah's or whether a subtle hint of red in your outfit would be a better idea.

deciding on just the subtle hint of red, finding a red cap which just so happen to also be leah’s which she’d left at yours after one night.

once you got the match you were amazed at the amount of people who had turned up, yourself not being as clued in of how big a scale women’s football was as admittedly you didn’t exactly have a big interest in football or in sport in general.

but for leah, you’d sit and watch football match after match if you knew it would make her happy.

once you found your seat in the stand you quickly sent the blonde a message not expecting her to even reply but she did.

Y/N:) - i’m here! good luck, i’ll be cheering you on☺️

LE<3 - i seen you! i’ve been looking for that hat. but i think it’s found a better home now;)

LE<3 - meet me near the dugout at the end!

finding yourself smiling at her messages as she sent another telling you what to say to the security so they would let you in to where leah wanted you to be, before slipping your phone back into your pocket ready to watch a game of football.

the ninety minutes felt as if they flew by, and at first you must admit you didn’t exactly understand what you were watching so you just cheered when everyone else around you did, but at the first half and definitely into the second half you managed to get a few rules down — with the help of a google search..

watching as leah walked around clapping and waving to fans looking so effortlessly good in her kit and with the fact she’d just run around for a good ninety minutes it never managed to fail to surprise you how easy she made it look.

despite the team only coming out with a draw which you knew leah would be slightly huffed about especially since they were by far the better team, you still were incredibly proud of her.

walking down and reciting the exact words that leah had messaged you to the security you made it to where she had told you to meet her, but that’s when a certain someone recognised you. a wide smile and arms wide open for you.

"oh y/n it's lovely to see you" amanda engulfed you in a hug, a warm fuzzy but also bittersweet feeling filling your chest. you'd met her mum totally by accident one of the first times that you and leah slept together. she'd been dropping of groceries for her daughter. leah trying to rush you out the door before things got to awkward.

but instead amanda being the polite women she is asked her daughter to introduce you to her. it ending up you stayed an extra two hours longer than you'd planned much to leah's discomfort, but in a way that made it all the more that enjoyable.

"what you doing after here?" amanda asked as she pulled you out the hug, leah lingering just behind you chewing the inside of her lip. "just if your not busy you can always join us for a few drinks" amanda smiled so sincerely as you thought over the invitiation briefly, would it be awkward - maybe? but friends can go out for drinks too!

“yeah, i’d love too” you grinned as a small cheer left amanda’s lips, you seeing the slight falter of a look on leah’s face before it turned back to her signature tight lipped frown.

or maybe you did it just to spite the blonde defender who stood so nervous next to you.

"brilliant! leah we'll wait out at the cars for you" amanda directed towards her daughter as she nodded a small sigh leaving her lips as she plastered on a fake smile, you knew there was a part of her that didnt want you there but that just added fuel to your fire.

amanda looping her arm with yours as the two of you walked towards where the cars would be at the back of the emirates stadium to take you and the williamson family for a few drinks to celebrate the win.

"so how have you been?" amanda asks as she walks beside you, a genuine interest in her tone, as you hum catching her up with your life which hadn't been all that exciting, most days merging into one.

"leah tells me you've been helping her with some business project? how's it going?" amanda asks and you swear your throat started to close up, your words getting stuck in between your lips as your eyes goes wide.

"oh- um yeah it's coming together-" quite literally. you stutter out a response hoping it doesn't raise to much suspicion and praying that the topic is over with just as quick as it came.

"leah won't give me a clue what it's about" amanda complains as she continues to tell you about the countless times she tried to get it out of her daughter as you hummed along more in your head as to why leah would say you were just business partners? why not just say your friends, cause after all you were?

"mhm well i won't be one to spoil the surprise then" you nervously chuckled as you saw the cars in the distance knowing you were close to the end of the conversation. amanda letting out a groan as she hoped she'd be able to get the big surprise out of you but that would be pretty hard considering there was no big surprise.

you were going to have to talk with leah, which would be a little odd as when the two of you were alone, not much talking would be done well not the converse action.

amanda letting go of your arm as she got into the other side of the cab, leah coming out the exit of the back of the stadium as she jogged quickly getting into the people carrier. sitting herself in the seat next to you as she shot you a soft smile.

-

the night was actually going smoothly, leah seemed to get out of whatever strop she was in when you were stood with her family in the emirates and was actually talking to you now. well more flirting with you. her hand getting dangerously high up on your thigh as she spoke.

"have i told you how pretty you look-" she blurted out as you took a small sip of your drink, a small smile appearing on your face as you lifted the glass from your lips and back to the table.

"you may have mentioned a few times" you whispered as this time it was leah's time to smile as her hand drifted a little further up your thigh as you shot her look as she squeezed your thigh making you jump in your seat a little.

"le-" you harhsly said inbetween your teeth as she looked at you so innocently as if she had not clue what she was doing to you but you know she knew. leah knew what her touch was doing to you and how it was affecting you.

leah had you right where she wanted you and honestly, you were going to let her - you'd face the consequences later on. right now, you wanted her, in more ways than one.

standing up with a loud scrape of your chair, all eyes turning to land on you, "m'sorry just- i'll be back-" you stutter out, your cheeks all flushed as you made a beeline straight for the toilets.

amanda looking worryingly over her shoulder at you before turning to leah, who just simply shrugged that making her mum's eyebrows furrow even more.

"i better go and check on her" leah stood up excusing herself as she followed suit pushing the door on the pub toilet door seeing you touching up your lip gloss as you regained your composure from the feeling on her hands on your body.

leah locking the door behind her, a rye smile on her lips as she stepped just that little bit closer to you, feeling your heart beat just that little bit faster.

was it nerves, probably but maybe it was more the uncertainty as you never knew what you were going to get with the blonde.

"are you sure?" leah whispered as she placed a quick kiss to your cheek before resting her hands to your hips as a smug smile came from you before you nodded.

"do you think you can keep up?" leah teased as your shot her a shocked look as she pulled you into deeper into the bathroom, your back now pushed flush against the sink.

"i'm sure i can.. business partner-" you whisper as you inch closer to her, making your eyes switch between her eyes and lips a flash of shock appearing on her face.

but just as leah opened her mouth to say another teasing comment, you wrap your hand behind her neck and slam your lips against hers. the kiss quickly turning heated when leah's tongue enters your mouth as a familiar warmth floods your body in seconds,

her hands gripping at your waist as she tugs you closer to her without breaking the kiss. the sound of your lips together was enough to leave an uncomfortable throbbing inbetween your legs.

leah pulls back for a moment searching for anything in your eyes that may say that you don't want this but there was nothing but lust, a small whine leaving your lips at the loss of contact in your lips before leah's diving right back in.

the sound that had been blasting through the pub had now quieten to a mere hum as your focus was solely now on the girl in front of you.

her hands placed on the small on your back slightly pushing in to make your back arch as your chest pushed into her. as leah's hands soon made their way slowly to slide down you your ass as your tongues graze against each other.

"so pretty for me, my love" your heart jumps at her loving tone as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks, leah's words always having some sort of effect on you and always leaving you feeling flustered.

leah's eyes roam your figure as her hand traces absentmindedly, as if she planning her next attack on your body. the blonde noticing the way your breath hitched when her fingers sit on your pulse point on your neck.

leah rotating her hand so her fingers lie gently against it awaiting your reaction as she smirks watching as you squeeze your eyes shut, as your hands grip against the rim of the sink.

a small chuckle leaves leah's lips as she leans down to press her lips to your neck sucking harshly on your sweet spot. a string of little whimpers leave your pretty little lips as you tilt your head more to the side allowing leah to have more access.

"le, please do something" you beg, feeling her hand roam underneath your hoodie, grazing across your breasts.

"don't be impatient baby girl" she rasps against your ear, tugging down on it with her teeth as you feel your self squeeze your thighs together. hoping it will help you relieve some tension between her legs.

leah finally lifting your hoodie over your head as she throws to the ground of the pub bathroom. usually you would have felt embarrassed as you would feel your whole body want to cower aways but with leah, it felt different. it felt good, it felt right.

-

it was a typical saturday night, leah had her home match at the emirates on the sunday so she was taking advantage of her the small out of rest time she had. a small hum of the tv playing in the background as you watched it, but really all your mind could focus on was the fact leah’s fingers were combing through the ends of your hair.

you were lying wrapped in leah's arms on her couch as the tv played, leah focused on some insta reel on her phone. you head tucked on her chest as it heaved up and down, the wholesome of the interaction. it felt like it was meant to be — it felt real.

"le?" you whispered your head turning to look up at the blonde as a small hum left her lips, her phone lowering a little.

"where do you see yourself in a year?" you asked, it was something that played on your mind a lot, cause would you still be in some casual relationship with leah or would you have your own apartment and she’d show you off to her friends as something more.

you were more hoping for the second option, since the months had passed since you both promised out of breathe that there wouldn’t be any strings attached.

and boy oh boy had that changed, especially since your favourite bra lived in her dresser. it was pretty hard to be casual.

“cause maybe we’d be more and going on cute little dates in a cafe before you’d go off to training” you began as you sat up, you rambling on as your hands flew around with some enthusiasm making you miss the way leah’s face changed.

“and then when you come home i’d be there waiting, your dinner on the table-“ you paused as you looked down to see leah’s face, puzzled but also her eyes they told you a different emotion, not the same energy you had but it was sadness — more a sense of guilt.

“i- sorry i got ahead of myself” you mumbled as your back sunk into the back of her couch, the further side from her.

leah shook her head, and you were half expecting her to wrap you in a hug and kiss your cheek and tell you it was okay and that maybe she felt the same way.

but she didn’t.

"y/n, remember, we're not together-" leah cut straight to the point, her tone blunt as you felt your heart drop and your brows furrowing and a quickly developing pout spreading across your lips.

you let out a shaky breath as you nodded slowly, you understood. she had kept her side of the promise of no strings attached. “i- just thought maybe?” you said so quietly it only came out as a whisper as you fidgeted with your fingers.

looking up to see leah’s face it told you everything you needed to know. you’d only known the blonde for a several amount of months but you knew her well enough to know what her face was telling you without actually having to say the actual words.

“oh i get it” you scoffed slightly, choking back on the tears which pricked at your eyes. all it ever was going to be was casual.

leah’s opened her mouth but nothing came out as she sat herself up on the couch but before she could even attempt to reach out to you, you were up from the couch. slipping your shoes on your feet. you didn’t want to be in the same room as her.

“y/n- don’t” leah finally managed to get out as she followed your actions following you into her hallway which was littered with her football memorabilia from her glittering career. but you shook your head, her voice to painful to hear as you stopped with your back to her just before the front door.

"do you know what's actually quite funny-" you paused to let out a little chuckle as you stood mere metres from the door, as you looked up from your shoes spinning slightly so you faced her. leah stood her shoulders sunken as she tried to plead with you not to leave.

"i actually thought i meant something to you- but i guess that's just how little i actually meant to you" you sighed as tried to steady your breath, tears prickling at your eyes ready to fall at any moment.

"i- i was ready-" you paused as your words got stuck in your throat, leah reaching out for you as you took a step back. "i was ready to give you my everything" you admitted it coming out just a little louder than a whisper.

"y/n-"

“no leah, you’d made it clear how you feel” you spat out as you spun on your heal, leaving leah calling out your name but your ignored her, reaching for the door and hearing how it clicked shut behind you.

part of you was hoping she was going to rip her front door open and call after you and not stop until you were back in the warmth of her arms but the corridor in her apartment block was silent.

the other part of you hated yourself how long you had let it drag out for, but now you were free. she can go to hell.

stumbling through the street as your tears fell down your cheeks, tapping away at your phone until you found the contact you wanted, the dial drilling through your ear a few times before it got to voicemail.

you sighed as you heard the beep, "i cut her off, amelie."

[paxtito]

fire and the thud.

pairings: wednesday x fem!reader

word count: 7683

warnings: smut, 18+. knives, grave digging, swearing, wednesday almost kills someone, fingering, kissing, lesbian sex (all characters are 18+)

summary: your mother, larissa, was good friends with morticia back in their days at nevermore. when you and wednesday were born, you were practically attached to the hip. but, your father wanted you to live with him for a while, leaving you and wednesday without contact until now. you’d come back from visiting your father in england to find that wednesday had been enrolled at nevermore.

a/n: this fanfic has really been through some shit, changed the title and outcome so many times but i’ve finally settled on this. apologies in advance for any errors and also the length

MASTERLIST

The heavy oak doors of Nevermore creak as you push them open, the familiar scent of old wood and faint lavender filling your senses. The school looks almost exactly the same as when you left it—high arches, dark stone corridors, the peculiar, warm-yet-foreboding atmosphere that clings to every corner. You never expected to be back so soon, certainly not so suddenly, but here you are. And it feels strange, like returning to some half-forgotten dream.

You adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder, peering around the entrance hall. Somewhere above, the great clock ticks in its steady, methodical rhythm, echoing faintly down the halls. You’re looking for your mom, the Headmistress herself, but she’s nowhere in sight just yet. You smirk a little, wondering if she’s busy welcoming another batch of outcasts to her beloved school, as she likes to call them.

Then you hear footsteps, a soft, deliberate sound against the stone floor, and look up—freezing for just a second as your gaze lands on her.

Wednesday stands there, her face as pale and expressionless as ever, eyes watching you with an intensity you remember all too well. She hasn’t changed one bit, from the dark braids draped over her shoulders to the sharp, calculating gaze that seems to see right through you. She’s grown older, of course, taller maybe, but she’s exactly as you remember.

And you’d know her anywhere. After all, you practically grew up together—your mother, Larissa, and Morticia Addams were ‘best friends’ back in their Nevermore days. Some might say the two were as different as night and day, yet there was always a bond there, something that brought them back to each other despite the odds. And that bond, somehow, extended to you and Wednesday, two kids who had little choice but to spend time together while their mothers reconnected over tea and half-whispered memories of the past.

You take a hesitant step forward, feeling a strange swirl of nostalgia and nerves rise in your chest. “Wednesday?”

She tilts her head, her dark eyes assessing you coolly. “Back from England already?” Her voice is calm, as if no time has passed at all, like she’s still the same stoic, blunt child you remember.

“Surprise,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heart is pounding.

There’s a moment of silence, charged with the weight of all the years you’ve been apart, and yet, something about it feels natural, like slipping back into an old habit.

“You look… different,” she says finally, her gaze sharp as ever as she sizes you up. “Taller.”

“So do you,” you reply, then add with a faint grin, “Except the taller part.”

She narrows her eyes at you in a way that only Wednesday could, but it’s almost… fond. “If I remember correctly, I was always the smarter one. Height is irrelevant.”

“Glad to see your sense of humor hasn’t improved,” you shoot back, grinning. It’s strange how quickly the old rhythm returns between you both, the teasing, the barbs exchanged without any real bite. It’s as if no time has passed at all.

Wednesday raises an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "Your sense of humor has certainly deteriorated during your time abroad."

You roll your eyes, but can't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe I just needed to be back among the living dead to rediscover it."

She snorts softly, the sound oddly endearing coming from her usually stoic demeanor. "I suppose being back at Nevermore will do that to a person."

As you stand there trading barbs, you can't help but let your gaze wander over her. She's still as pale as ever, her dark hair braided tightly against her skull. But there's a new edge to her, a sharpness that wasn't there before. It's in the set of her jaw, the way she holds herself with a quiet confidence that demands attention without saying a word.

"So," you say, breaking the silence that has fallen between you. "What have you been up to since I left? Still perfecting your taxidermy skills?"

A ghost of a smile flits across her lips. "Among other things. But some secrets are best kept buried."

You can't help but laugh at that. "Fair enough. I suppose I've got a few of my own to keep under wraps."

She tilts her head, studying you with those dark, penetrating eyes. "I'm sure you do. Though I must admit, I'm curious to hear about your adventures in the land of the living."

You shrug, trying to play it off as no big deal. "Not much to tell, really. Just your standard boring English school life.”

She arches an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Somehow, I doubt that."

You sigh dramatically. "Fine, you got me. It wasn't all bad. Made some friends, learned a few things. But nothing compared to the excitement of Nevermore."

A genuine smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "I'm glad to hear it. It would be a shame if you'd gone soft during your time away."

—

A few days have passed since your sudden return to Nevermore, and you're still adjusting to the odd juxtaposition of the familiar and the foreign. The school itself hasn't changed much, but you're older now, seeing it through different eyes. And then there's Wednesday, who seems to be everywhere you turn, her dark eyes following you like a specter.

It's late afternoon, and you're wandering through the grounds, trying to clear your head after a particularly dull history lecture. The air is crisp, the leaves crunching under your feet as you make your way towards an old oak tree.

As you approach, you see a figure already seated against the trunk, long legs stretched out, head bent over a book. Even from a distance, you recognize the shock of dark hair, the pale skin. Wednesday looks up as you draw near, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in your approach.

"I thought I might find you here," you say, settling yourself onto the ground beside her.

She doesn't move, just continues to stare at you, her gaze unreadable. "Did you?"

You shrug, plucking a leaf from the ground and twirling it between your fingers. "Call it intuition."

She watches the leaf spin for a moment before speaking. "I've been thinking about that day. The day you left."

You freeze, the leaf falling forgotten to the ground. You've tried not to think about that day too much, the way it felt to leave Wednesday behind, to step into a world that didn't understand you the way she did.

"Yeah?" you say, keeping your voice carefully neutral.

She nods, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "I remember standing at the window of my room, watching your car disappear into the distance. I remember thinking that I wouldn't see you again."

A lump forms in your throat, but you swallow it down. "And now here I am."

She turns to look at you then, her gaze intense. "Yes, here you are. But you're different. Older. Changed."

She falls silent then, her eyes drifting back to the distant horizon. You can see the tension in her jaw, the way her hands clench around the book in her lap. It's clear that whatever she's thinking, it's weighing on her.

Finally, she speaks, her voice low and steady. "I know we haven't spoken much since you returned. But I want you to know that... I'm glad you're back, Y/N."

The words catch you off guard, and you blink, trying to process them. Wednesday isn't exactly known for her emotional outpourings, and hearing her say those words feels... significant. Important.

Wednesday's words hang in the air between you, weighty and profound. You can feel the sincerity behind them, the depth of emotion that she usually keeps tightly locked away. It's a side of her that few people get to see, and you feel a rush of warmth in your chest at the thought that she trusts you enough to share it with you.

"I'm glad too," you say softly, meeting her gaze. "Gladder than I ever thought I'd be."

She looks away then, a faint blush coloring her pale cheeks. It's a rare sight, and you can't help but smile at the sight of it.

“Cute.”

Wednesday's blush deepens at your comment, and she shoots you a sharp glare. "I am not cute," she hisses, her voice low and dangerous. "Don't ever call me that again."

You hold up your hands in mock surrender, trying to keep the grin off your face. "Sorry, sorry. I meant 'formidable' or 'intimidating'. Those are much better descriptions of you, I'm sure."

She narrows her eyes at you, but there's a hint of something else in her gaze - a glimmer of amusement, perhaps, or maybe just a touch of affection. "You'd better believe it," she mutters, but there's no real bite to her words.

You settle back against the trunk of the tree, stretching your legs out in front of you. "So, what's new with you? Any exciting murder mysteries or occult rituals I should know about?"

Wednesday rolls her eyes, but there's a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Wouldn't you like to know? I'm afraid my secrets are safe with me."

"Damn," you sigh, feigning disappointment. "And here I thought we were friends."

She snorts softly, nudging you with her elbow. "We are friends, Y/N. But even friends have limits."

You grin at her, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at the casual familiarity of the gesture. "Fair enough. I suppose I can respect that."

For a while, you sit in comfortable silence, watching the play of light through the leaves overhead. It's peaceful, in a way - just the two of you, lost in your own thoughts, content in each other's presence.

Wednesday's eyes drift shut for a moment, her face tilted towards the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves above. There's a softness to her features that you rarely see, a vulnerability that she only shows when she thinks no one is looking.

She's always been like that - guarded, cautious, quick to put up walls to keep people out. But with you, she lets her guard down just a little. It's a privilege, really, to be trusted with this side of her.

You watch her, committing every detail to memory. The way her dark lashes cast shadows on her pale cheeks, the slight parting of her lips as she breathes in the crisp autumn air.

A breeze rustles the leaves above, and Wednesday's eyes flutter open, fixing you with a questioning gaze. "What are you looking at?" she asks, her voice low and suspicious.

You shake your head, grinning. "Nothing. Just enjoying the scenery."

She narrows her eyes, but there's no real anger behind it. "You're strange, Y/N. You always have been."

"And you love it," you tease, nudging her back with your shoulder.

She doesn't deny it, just shrugs and turns her attention back to the book in her lap. But you can see the hint of a smile on her lips, the way her shoulders relax just a fraction.

It's in moments like these that you realize just how much you've missed her, how much a part of your life she's always been. And as you sit there, side by side beneath the old oak tree, you can't help but feel a sense of rightness, of belonging.

Whatever the future holds, whatever challenges lie ahead, you know that you'll face them together. You and Wednesday, the odd couple, the misfits, the outcasts. Together, you can weather any storm.

“Remember our little grave digging rendezvous? There’s an abandoned graveyard in the woods… Could pay it a visit tonight.”

Wednesday's head snaps up at your suggestion, her dark eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, she just stares at you, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

"I thought you'd never ask," she purrs, her voice low and conspiratorial.

You can't help but grin at her enthusiastic response. "Thought you might be too busy with your taxidermy collection to spare a night for some good old-fashioned grave robbing."

She rolls her eyes, but there's a glint of amusement in her gaze. "Please. Taxidermy is a hobby, grave robbing is a lifestyle."

You laugh, shaking your head in mock disbelief. "Of course it is. I don't know why I even asked."

Wednesday leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Meet me at midnight by the old stone wall. Don't be late."

—

The sun has long since set by the time you make your way to the rendezvous point, the old stone wall looming ominously in the darkness. You can feel the chill in the air, the way it seeps into your bones and makes your breath mist in the night. It's the perfect weather for a little grave robbing, you muse to yourself, a wicked grin tugging at your lips.

As you approach the wall, you see a familiar figure waiting for you in the shadows. Wednesday is leaning against the stone, her dark hair a stark contrast against the gray of the wall. She's wearing all black, as usual, her pale skin almost glowing in the moonlight.

"Right on time," she says as you draw near, her voice low and teasing. "I was beginning to think you'd chickened out."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "Please. Like that would ever happen."

She pushes off the wall, falling into step beside you as you make your way towards the woods.

The forest looms ahead, an impenetrable wall of darkness that seems to swallow the moonlight whole. Wednesday leads the way, her steps sure and confident even in the pitch black. You follow close behind, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

As you venture deeper into the woods, the air grows colder, damper. The trees seem to press in around you, their branches reaching out like grasping fingers. You can feel the weight of the forest, the way it seems to pulse with a life of its own.

After what feels like an eternity, you break through the treeline and into a small clearing. Before you lies the graveyard, a jumble of crumbling headstones and weathered crypts. The place has an eerie stillness to it, as if the very air is holding its breath.

Wednesday grins at you, her eyes glinting with a manic light. "Welcome to our little slice of paradise," she says, gesturing grandly at the graveyard.

You stare at the graveyard, your heart racing. The crumbling headstones and weathered crypts seem to loom menacingly in the darkness, casting eerie shadows across the overgrown grass. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, and you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched.

Wednesday seems oblivious to your unease, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she surveys the graveyard. "Isn't it beautiful?" she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "All this history, all these stories, just waiting to be uncovered."

You swallow hard, trying to muster up some of her enthusiasm. "Sure," you manage, your voice coming out a little higher pitched than you intended. "Beautiful."

Wednesday turns to you, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Come on, Y/N. Where's your sense of adventure? This is what we've always dreamed of, isn't it? A chance to get our hands dirty, to delve into the unknown?"

You nod, trying to convince yourself as much as her. "You speak like a poet."

Wednesday grins at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Poetry is for the weak. I prefer the prose of the macabre."

She strides forward, her boots crunching on the dead leaves littering the ground. You hurry to keep up, your heart pounding in your chest as you weave between the headstones. Some are little more than crumbled ruins, the names and dates long since eroded away. Others stand tall and proud, their epitaphs still legible in the moonlight.

As you make your way deeper into the graveyard, you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle, and you whirl around, half expecting to see some ghostly figure lurking in the shadows. But there's nothing there, just the endless rows of graves stretching out before you.

Wednesday, meanwhile, seems completely at ease. She moves through the graveyard like a cat, her steps silent and sure. Every so often, she pauses to examine a particularly interesting headstone, running her fingers over the engraved letters as if trying to read the secrets of the dead.

"Look at this one," she says, gesturing to a large, ornate tomb. "Elias Crane, died 1847. Apparently, he was a wealthy businessman. But rumor has it, he made his fortune through less than savory means."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. "Such as?"

Wednesday leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Grave robbing. Body snatching. All the things respectable society frowns upon."

You can't help but grin at that. "Sounds like our kind of guy."

Wednesday nods, a wicked glint in her eye. "Exactly. I bet he's got some fascinating stories buried with him."

You put your backpack down, pulling out a plastic spade, one that is obviously meant for kids at the beach.

Wednesday's eyes widen as you pull out the child's spade, a mix of amusement and disappointment crossing her face. "Really, Y/N? A plastic shovel? I was expecting something a bit more... professional."

She reaches into her own bag, pulling out a sleek, black shovel that looks like it could double as a weapon. "This is how you do grave robbing.”

She strides over to the nearest grave, kneeling down beside the headstone. You hurry to follow, your plastic spade feeling woefully inadequate in comparison.

"Alright, let's see what secrets Mr. Crane is hiding," Wednesday murmurs, plunging her shovel into the soft earth.

You do the same, your spade making a hollow 'thunk' as it hits the ground. Wednesday shoots you a look, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

“My shovel is cuter.”

Wednesday snorts, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Cuter? Really? We're going for aesthetics over functionality here?"

She shakes her head, but there's no real annoyance in her voice. If anything, she seems even more excited by the challenge.

"Alright then, Y/N. Let's see what you can do with that adorable little spade of yours."

With that, she plunges her own shovel into the ground, the blade slicing through the earth with a satisfying thud. You follow suit, your plastic spade making a far less impressive noise as it scrapes against the dirt.

For a while, the only sound is the steady rhythm of shoveling, punctuated by the occasional grunt of effort. Wednesday moves with a practiced ease, her movements efficient and precise. You, on the other hand, quickly find yourself winded, your arms burning with the unfamiliar exertion.

"Come on, Y/N," Wednesday calls over her shoulder, a teasing lilt to her voice. "Put some muscle into it. We're not here to dig a hole for a potted plant."

You grit your teeth, redoubling your efforts. Slowly, painfully, the hole begins to take shape, the walls of the grave yawning open like a hungry mouth.

As you work, you can't help but steal glances at Wednesday, marveling at the way she seems so completely in her element. Her pale skin glows in the moonlight, and there's a fierce determination in her eyes that takes your breath away.

"Watch it!" Wednesday yells suddenly, and you jerk back just in time to avoid smacking your shovel against hers. You stare down into the hole, which is now deep enough for you to stand in. The wooden coffin lies below, its surface covered in a layer of dirt and debris.

Wednesday tosses her shovel aside, dropping to her knees beside the grave. She runs her hands over the coffin, tracing the intricate carvings that adorn its surface.

Wednesday's eyes shine with excitement as she runs her hands over the ancient wood, tracing the intricate carvings etched into its surface. The coffin is clearly old, the once-polished finish now dulled by centuries of exposure to the elements.

"Look at this craftsmanship," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "They just don't make them like this anymore."

You peer into the grave, your heart hammering in your chest. The idea of what lies inside the coffin is both thrilling and terrifying, a reminder of the fragility of life and the inevitability of death.

Wednesday seems oblivious to your apprehension, her attention focused solely on the task at hand. She pulls a small crowbar from her bag, wedging it between the lid of the coffin and its frame. With a grunt of effort, she pries the lid open, the ancient wood groaning in protest.

The smell that wafts up from the coffin is overwhelming - the cloying scent of decay, of earth and rot. You gag, stepping back from the edge of the grave. But Wednesday seems unaffected, leaning forward to peer inside.

"Well, well," she breathes, a note of excitement in her voice. "Looks like our friend Elias is still with us."

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to look into the coffin. The body inside is little more than a skeleton, clad in the tattered remains of a funeral suit. The flesh has long since rotted away, leaving only bones and a few scraps of leathery skin.

Wednesday reaches into the coffin, her slender fingers brushing against the yellowed bones. She lifts out a human femur, examining it with a critical eye.

"Fascinating," she murmurs, turning the bone over in her hands. "Look at the way the marrow cavity has collapsed. That suggests a prolonged period of exposure to the elements."

She carefully places the bone back inside the coffin, her expression thoughtful.

You just blink, unsure of what to do now. “Well, that was exhilarating.” You mutter, sarcasm etched in your tone.

The moonlight filters through the trees, casting an eerie glow over the graveyard. Wednesday turns to you, a mischievous glint in her dark eyes. "What's the matter, Y/N? Not quite the thrill you were hoping for?"

You can't help but smirk back at her, despite the unsettling nature of your surroundings. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'm just not cut out for the macabre after all."

Wednesday scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Don't be ridiculous. You're the one who suggested this little adventure in the first place."

You shrug, trying to project a nonchalance you don't quite feel. "I may have gotten carried away. But hey, at least we found something interesting, right?"

Wednesday's gaze lingers on you, her expression softening slightly. "Yeah, I guess so. Though I'm not sure what we're going to do with Elias now."

You glance back at the open coffin, a shiver running down your spine. "Maybe we should put him back? Seems only right, considering we disturbed his rest."

Wednesday nods, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Probably for the best. Wouldn't want to deal with the wrath of a vengeful spirit."

Together, you carefully lower the coffin lid, sealing Elias back in his eternal slumber. As you brush the dirt back over the grave, you can't help but feel a sense of relief, a sudden desire to leave this place behind.

But as you turn to go, you find yourself face to face with Wednesday, her eyes wide and searching in the moonlight. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the air between you crackling with tension.

"Y/N," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "There's something I've been wanting to say..."

Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath catching in your throat. You know what's coming, have known for a long time, but hearing her say it out loud is still a shock.

Before you can utter a response, Wednesday closes the distance between you, her cool fingers curling around the back of your neck. She pulls you closer, her eyes locked on yours, a swirling vortex of emotions - longing, desire, and a hint of vulnerability.

Her lips brush against yours, soft and tentative at first, then with growing confidence and passion. You melt into the kiss, your arms encircling her waist, pulling her flush against you. The world falls away, the graveyard and the dead forgotten as you lose yourself in the taste and feel of her.

Wednesday's lips are cool and sweet against yours, her tongue darting out to trace the seam of your mouth. You part your lips, granting her access, and she takes full advantage, deepening the kiss with a low moan. Your tongues dance and twine, a sensual battle for dominance that leaves you both breathless.

When she finally pulls back, you're both panting, your hearts racing in sync. Wednesday's eyes are dark with desire, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. She rests her forehead against yours, her voice husky and low.

"I've wanted to do that for so long, Y/N. I hope I didn't misread the signs."

You chuckle softly, your fingers tangling in her silky hair. "Not at all. I've been waiting for this too."

You and Wednesday are still caught up in the afterglow of your first kiss, your bodies pressed close, when a sudden noise shatters the silence of the graveyard. It's a rustling sound, the crunch of dead leaves underfoot, and it's coming from the direction of the woods.

Wednesday's head snaps up, her eyes narrowing as she scans the treeline. "Did you hear that?" she whispers, her voice tense with suspicion.

You nod, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. "It sounded like it came from over there."

Wednesday reaches into her bag, pulling out a small, wicked-looking knife. She hands it to you, her grip tight and urgent. "Just in case."

You take the knife, your fingers closing around the smooth handle. The blade gleams in the moonlight, its edge honed to a razor's sharpness.

Together, you creep towards the source of the noise, your footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of dead leaves. As you draw closer to the woods, you can hear the sound more clearly now - a low, guttural moan, followed by the unmistakable sound of retching.

Wednesday holds up a hand, signaling for you to stop. She points to a shadowy figure, hunched over just beyond the edge of the trees. The figure is swaying slightly, as if drunk or disoriented, and you can see the glint of a bottle in its hand.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a drunk," Wednesday murmurs, a hint of disgust in her voice. "Probably some vagrant who thought he'd find shelter in the woods."

You're about to suggest leaving the man be when he suddenly staggers forward, his eyes wide and wild as they lock onto yours. He lets out a low, animalistic growl, raising the bottle like a weapon.

"Hey, man, some of us are trying to sleep here!" he slurs, taking a stumbling step towards you. "Why don't you and your little girlfriend fuck off?"

Before you can react, Wednesday lurches forward, her hand outstretched. She aims the knife at the man's throat, her eyes narrowed.

The drunk man's eyes widen in fear as he sees the knife, his bravado evaporating like mist in the moonlight. He stumbles backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away.

You move forward, your hand gripping over Wednesday’s, stopping her from going too far. “No.”

Wednesday hesitates, her grip on the knife faltering. She looks at you, confusion and frustration warring in her eyes. "What are you doing?" she hisses, her voice low and urgent. "We can't just let him get away. Who knows what he might do?"

The drunk man stumbles further back, his eyes darting between you and Wednesday. "Hey, look, I don't want any trouble, alright?" he says, his voice shaking. "I'm just trying to find a place to sleep, that's all. I didn't mean no harm."

Wednesday scoffs, her grip tightening on the knife once more. "Oh, and I suppose disturbing our private moment is no harm done? I don't think so."

The man's eyes widen in panic as he realizes the precariousness of his situation. He raises his hands in a placating gesture, the bottle still clutched in one trembling fist.

"Please, I'm sorry, I'll go, I won't bother you again, just please don't hurt me," he babbles, his words slurring together in his haste.

Wednesday's jaw clenches, her eyes narrowing to slits. She takes a step forward, the knife glinting in the moonlight.

"You should have thought of that before you interrupted us," she snarls, her voice dripping with venom.

The man's eyes dart to you, pleading for help, for mercy. You can see the terror in his gaze, the knowledge that he is completely at the mercy of these two strange girls.

“Goddamn it, Wednesday. Stop it.”

Wednesday's grip on the knife loosens slightly at your command, but she doesn't lower it. Her eyes are still fixed on the drunk man, her expression a mix of anger and contempt.

"Why should we stop?" she hisses, her voice low and dangerous. "He's just some pathetic vagrant. No one will miss him."

The man's eyes widen in fear, his body trembling as he backs away from you both. "Please," he whimpers, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want any trouble. I'll leave, I swear."

You step forward, gently placing a hand on Wednesday's arm. The touch is light, but the gesture is clear - a plea for her to stand down, to show mercy.

Wednesday's eyes flick to you, surprise and confusion written across her face. She's so focused on the drunk man that she hadn't expected your intervention.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" she asks, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "This man needs to be taught a lesson."

The drunk man takes another stumbling step backwards, his eyes darting between you and Wednesday in terror. He's clearly aware of the precariousness of his situation, the thin line between life and death that he's currently balancing on.

For a moment, Wednesday seems torn, her gaze flickering between you and the drunk man. You can see the conflict in her eyes, the war between her darker impulses and the bond she shares with you.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Wednesday lowers the knife. She lets out a long, shuddering breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Fine," she says, her voice tight. "But if he steps out of line again, he's fair game."

The drunk man lets out a shaky sigh of relief, his body sagging with the realization that he's been spared. "Thank you," he mumbles, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I'll go, I promise. Just please, no more trouble."

He turns and staggers off into the woods, his footsteps crunching on the dead leaves. You watch him go, a sense of unease settling in your stomach.

You can't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation, a nervous energy buzzing through your veins. "Where did you even get that knife, Wednesday? I didn't realize you were packing heat on our little graveyard rendezvous."

Wednesday's lips quirk into a wry smile, her eyes glinting with mischief in the moonlight. "Always be prepared, Y/N. You never know when you might need a little... protection." She tucks the knife back into her bag with practiced ease, her movements fluid and graceful.

You shake your head, a mix of amusement and exasperation coloring your voice. "I swear, sometimes I think you're just looking for an excuse to use that thing. What would your parents say if they knew?"

Wednesday scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Please. They'd probably be proud. 'Our little girl, all grown up and ready to defend herself.' Besides, it's not like we actually used it."

You can't argue with that logic, even as a shiver runs down your spine at the thought of what might have happened if you hadn't intervened. "True enough. But maybe next time, let's stick to less... lethal forms of self-defense, hmm?"

Wednesday shrugs, her expression unrepentant. "Can't make any promises. But I'll try to keep my bloodlust in check, for your sake."

Despite the morbid humor of the situation, you can't help but feel a surge of affection for Wednesday. Her dark sense of humor, her fierce protectiveness, her willingness to embrace the macabre - it's all part of what draws you to her.

You step closer to her, your hand finding hers in the darkness. "Come on," you murmur, tugging her gently towards the edge of the graveyard. "Let's get out of here before anyone else decides to crash our party."

—

The heavy door of the dorm room creaks open, revealing the dimly lit space within. Wednesday stumbles inside, pulling you along with her. Her lips never leave yours as she kicks the door shut behind you, her hands roaming eagerly over your body.

You're lost in the moment, your senses overwhelmed by the feeling of her mouth on yours, the press of her body against yours. It's only when you feel the edge of the bed hit the back of your knees that you break the kiss, gasping for air.

Wednesday's eyes are dark with desire, her hair mussed and her lips swollen from your passionate embrace. She tugs at your shirt, her fingers fumbling with the buttons in her haste to get it off.

"Wednesday, wait," you breathe, your voice husky with need. "Are you sure about this?"

She pauses, her eyes meeting yours in the dim light. There's a flicker of uncertainty in their depths, a moment of hesitation. But then she's pressing against you again, her mouth finding yours once more.

"I've never been more sure of anything," she murmurs against your lips. "I want you, Y/N. I've wanted you for so long."

You surrender to the moment, your hands tangling in her hair as you deepen the kiss. Clothes are shed in a flurry of fabric, landing haphazardly on the floor as you tumble onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and heated skin.

A soft groan, followed by the rustle of sheets, startles you both out of your passionate haze.

"W-Wednesday?" a sleepy voice mumbles. "Is that you?"

Wednesday's eyes widen in horror, her face flushing crimson as she realizes the mistake she's made, scrambling to cover herself with the nearest piece of clothing.

“Oh, hey, Enid.” You smile, trying to appear nonchalant.

Enid sits up in her bed, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She blinks a few times, her gaze adjusting to the dim light. When she focuses on you and Wednesday, her eyes widen in surprise.

"Oh, um, hi," she stammers, her cheeks flushing pink. "I didn't realize you two were... I mean, I thought..."

There's an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of Wednesday's heavy breathing and the distant chirping of crickets outside.

Enid clears her throat, pulling the blanket up higher around her shoulders. "So, uh, are you two going to...?" She trails off, her eyes widening as she realizes the implications of her question.

Wednesday's face is beet red, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "No!" she blurts out, her voice uncharacteristically high-pitched. "We weren't going to... I mean, we weren't..."

Enid's eyes widen, her mouth falling open in shock. "Wednesday, are you... are you blushing?"

Wednesday scowls, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. "I am not blushing," she snaps, her voice tight with embarrassment. "I just... I didn't expect you to be awake at this hour."

Enid blinks, her expression softening. "It's okay, Wednesday. I'm not judging. I'm happy for you, really." She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I always knew you had a thing for Y/N."

—

Since that night in the dorm room, things had been undeniably awkward between you and Wednesday. The air was thick with unresolved tension, the memory of passionate kisses and wandering hands lingering like a ghost in the room. You couldn't look at her without feeling a flush creep up your neck, your heart racing at the slightest brush of her fingers against yours.

Even Enid seemed to notice the change in your dynamic, her knowing smiles and raised eyebrows a constant reminder of the unspoken desire simmering beneath the surface. You tried to focus on your classes, to push aside the distracting thoughts of Wednesday's lips on yours, but it was a losing battle.

As you walked down the hallway towards your next class, your mind was miles away, replaying the events of that fateful night. Wednesday's touch, her breathless moans, the way her body had felt pressed against yours...

Suddenly, you felt a hand grab your wrist, yanking you roughly into a nearby janitor's closet. The door slammed shut behind you, plunging you into darkness. You stumbled, your heart leaping into your throat as you struggled to make out the silhouette of your attacker.

"Do you have any idea how hard it's been for me to focus on anything since that night?" a familiar voice growled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes adjusted to the dim light, revealing Wednesday's face, etched with a mixture of frustration and desire. She stepped closer, her body mere inches from yours, her breath hot against your cheek.

"I can't stop thinking about you, Y/N," she whispered, her voice low and urgent. "Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is your face, feel your touch..."

Her hands slid up your arms, her fingers digging into your skin as she pulled you closer. "Tell me you feel it too," she breathed, her lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me you want me as much as I want you."

You feel Wednesday's breath on your ear, her words sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The suddenness of her actions catches you off guard, but the desire in her voice is undeniable.

"I... I do," you manage to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been thinking about you too, Wednesday. Nonstop."

Wednesday's hands slide down your sides, her touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. She presses you back against the wall, her body molding to yours in a way that makes your head spin.

"Then why haven't you done anything about it?" she demands, her voice a low growl. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "I wasn't... I mean, I didn't think..."

Wednesday cuts you off with a searing kiss, her lips claiming yours with a hunger that takes your breath away. You melt into her, your hands tangling in her hair as you lose yourself in the sensation of her mouth on yours.

When she finally pulls away, you're both breathing hard, your chests heaving against each other. "I can't wait anymore," Wednesday pants, her eyes wild with need. "I need you, Y/N. Right here, right now."

Your mind races, the implications of her words sinking in. You're not in your dorm room, where you can take your time, explore each other at a leisurely pace. You're in a janitor's closet, surrounded by cleaning supplies and the faint scent of bleach.

But the desire in Wednesday's eyes, the way her body is pressed against yours, makes it hard to think straight. Your hands slide down to her waist, your fingers digging into her hips as you pull her closer.

"We shouldn't..." you start, even as your body betrays you, arching into her touch.

Wednesday silences you with another kiss, her tongue delving into your mouth as her hands roam over your body with a desperate urgency. "Don't think," she breathes against your lips. "Just feel."

Wednesday's hands slide under your shirt, her fingers skimming over the smooth skin of your stomach. You gasp, your back arching off the wall as she trails her touch higher, brushing against the soft swell of your breasts.

"Wednesday," you moan, your voice breathy with need. "We can't... not here..."

But even as the words leave your lips, you're arching into her touch, your body betraying your true desires. Wednesday's mouth finds your neck, her teeth grazing against your pulse point as she sucks and nips at the sensitive skin.

Your head falls back, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself in the sensation. Wednesday's hands are everywhere, sliding under your clothes, mapping the curves of your body with a desperate hunger.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you're about to do. With a sudden burst of strength, you reverse your positions, pinning Wednesday against the wall with your body. She lets out a surprised gasp, her eyes widening as she looks up at you with a mix of shock and desire.

"My turn," you murmur, your voice low and commanding. Your hands slide under her shirt, your fingers skimming over the smooth expanse of her stomach. Wednesday shivers, her skin breaking out in goosebumps under your touch.

You lean in, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Wednesday moans into your mouth, her hands fisting in your hair as she pulls you closer. Your tongues tangle together, the kiss growing more heated with each passing second.

Your hands continue their exploration, sliding up to cup Wednesday's breasts through her bra. She arches into your touch, her nipples hardening under your palms. You break the kiss, trailing your lips down her neck, your teeth grazing against her pulse point.

Wednesday's breath comes in short, sharp gasps, her body trembling with need. "Please," she whimpers, her voice barely above a whisper. "Touch me, Y/N. I need you."

Your fingers find the clasp of her bra, undoing it with a deft flick. The garment falls away, exposing her breasts to your hungry gaze. You lower your head, your tongue swirling around one hardened peak.

Wednesday cries out, her back arching off the wall as you lavish attention on her breasts. Your hands slide down her body, tugging at the waistband of her skirt.

With a swift movement, you yank the garment down, leaving Wednesday in nothing but her panties. She steps out of the pool of fabric, her legs trembling with anticipation.

Your hands slide up her thighs, your fingers hooking into the waistband of her underwear. With a slow, deliberate movement, you tug them down, revealing her most intimate parts to your eager gaze.

Wednesday is bare before you, her body laid out like a feast for the taking. You take a moment to admire her, your eyes drinking in every feature.

Wednesday's breath hitches as you drink in the sight of her, her body quivering under your appraising gaze. The air between you is electric, charged with a heady mix of desire and anticipation.

You step closer, your body pressing against hers in a delicious friction that sends sparks racing through your veins. Wednesday's hands come up to rest on your shoulders, her fingers digging into your skin as she anchors herself to you.

"Please," she breathes, her voice a desperate whimper. "I need you, Y/N. I've been dreaming of this moment for so long."

Your hand slides between her legs, your fingers brushing against the slick heat of her core. Wednesday gasps, her hips bucking forward, seeking more of your touch. You tease her, your fingers dipping just barely inside before retreating, driving her wild with need.

Wednesday's breath comes in short, sharp gasps as your fingers tease her most sensitive spots. Her hips grind against your hand, seeking more of your touch, more of the delicious friction that's building inside her.

You can feel the heat of her, the slickness coating your fingers as you work her higher and higher. Wednesday's head thrashes from side to side, her eyes squeezed shut as she loses herself in the pleasure.

"Don't stop," she whimpers, her voice a desperate plea. "Please, Y/N, don't stop."

Your fingers plunge deeper, curling inside her in a way that makes her see stars. Wednesday's back arches off the wall, her nails digging into your shoulders as she rides the wave of sensation.

You can feel her tightening around your fingers, her body tensing as she nears the edge. You double your efforts, your thumb finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.

Wednesday's cry echoes off the walls of the small closet, her body shaking as the orgasm crashes over her. She clings to you, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks on your skin as she rides out the waves of pleasure.

You hold her through it, your hand gentle as you help her down from the high. When she finally stills, you pull your hand away, bringing your fingers to your lips. You lick them clean, savoring the taste of her on your tongue.

The taste of Wednesday on your fingers is exquisite, a heady mix of sweet and salty that makes your head spin. You savor it for a long moment, your eyes locked with hers as you lick them clean.

Wednesday's body is still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm when you pull your fingers from her slick heat. The taste of her essence lingers on your tongue, a tantalizing reminder of what you've just shared.

You meet her gaze, your eyes dark with desire and satisfaction. "I should get going," you murmur, regret tinging your voice. "I don't want to be late for class."

Wednesday nods, her breath still coming in short, sharp gasps. She reaches out, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulls you in for one last, searing kiss.

"Until next time," she whispers against your lips, her voice a promise of things to come.

—

[deadpresidents]

I just hope these next 4 years go by fast

This election isn't just about the next four years. With Trump in the White House and a Republican Senate at his side, the MAGA movement can pick up where they left off when it comes to packing the federal judiciary with right-wing judges who will control the Supreme Court and appellate courts throughout the country potentially for the rest of the lives of everyone reading this right now. It's the perfect recipe for them to continue stripping reproductive rights away from women nationwide and gives them the opportunity to turn their attention to the other issues that they have been dying to attack, from voting rights to gay marriage and every other extension of personal freedom that has been won by minorities and marginalized people in hard-fought battles over the past 60 years. This is the nightmare scenario that people have been warning folks about for the past few elections. It's here. And there isn't going to be a way to put the toothpaste back in the tube.

The consequences of this election will have a direct, negative impact on your life -- possibly on the entire remainder of your life. This country just re-elected a President with authoritarian tendencies who is the willing puppet of a dangerous Christian nationalist movement that figured out exactly how to manipulate him (through flattery) for their aims. They have created the perfect vehicle for a genuine cult of personality that they can use to achieve the goals they have been very clear about striving for over the past few years. And you can't blame anybody other than the American voters because they not only elected Trump, but they gave him a fucking mandate, with a Republican Senate and potentially a Republican House. They already have a right-wing dominated Supreme Court for the next few decades, and now they are going to ensure that the entire federal judiciary is in their control for years to come. And don't forget the fact that a few months ago, the Supreme Court handed down a decision that gave Presidents sweeping immunity for a broad (and conveniently undefined) range of "official" acts, so Trump is going to go into this second term knowing that not only does he not have to deal with the "guardrails" of responsible adults he had around him in his first term (Mattis, Tillerson, Kelly, General Milley, etc), but he knows he can get away with virtually anything and everything that he wants to do this time around. If you thought that Trump's first term was bad, just understand that they are prepared this time and now he's surrounded himself with people who will do his bidding -- people who are perfectly willing to let Trump be Donald Trump.

I wish there was a reason to cry foul, lodge protests, and challenge the election's results. But this wasn't a rigged election. There isn't any confusion about what the voters really wanted. The American people did this. People you know and care about and who say they care about you are the people who did this. We need to recognize that these elections aren't outliers anymore. Trump's supporters aren't simply chaos agents who got lucky on a bad day for the Democrats. That's the country we live in now and we have to find a way to resist it that actually makes a difference because now they have the keys to all the doors and all of the alarm codes. This country has normalized the conspiracy theories and nativism and racism that has powered the MAGA movement since the moment Trump came down the elevator at Trump Tower in 2015. He's given those people permission to be open with their hatred towards people who aren't like them, and it's actually become surprising to see how many Americans have been eager to take advantage of that. I didn't think I had any misconceptions about this country before Donald Trump because I recognized this nation's history, but I clearly had some misconceptions about people I thought I knew until I saw them wearing a red MAGA hat or noticed they had a gigantic flag with Trump's name hanging where their U.S. flag used to hang. Once that happened, it was like a switch went off with them and they started saying things in ways that I'd never heard them speak. I feel like that's happened to the entire country. It breaks my heart and it pisses me off.

For the past few years, I've been warning everybody about how elections have consequences. I imagine that there are hundreds of posts on this blog with that phrase in all caps listed with the tags. Now the elections have happened, and we have to live with real fucking consequences. And we're going to pass these consequences on to other generations because this is the one that you can't get a do-over on. When you give a movement like this the power and the mandate that this country just gave them, there is no easily rolling back the things that they end up doing. They are going to fundamentally change the lives of people in this nation and especially change the way the younger generations of Americans live and love and learn for years to come. And you have people in your life who made that happen. It's another disgusting day in America -- a prelude to another reprehensible four years (at the very least) -- and I'm ashamed of tens of millions of my fellow Americans because this one is on them. They know exactly who the man is that they voted for, and now we know exactly who they are, too.

[cheeseceli]

The Night We Met

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers, second chance, fic (2.8k words)

Prompt: “I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met."

Warnings: both of them cry at some point, heartbreak, insecurities, party (?), Han makes a cameo, happy ending

A/n: when the hardest part of writing is finding the right layout | daily click

I had all

Hyunjin knew more than to trust Han Jisung. Of course, he loved Han as one would love a brother, and he would trust his life to his friend if needed, but he should've known to not trust Han to stay put during the party. Simply because Jisung was nowhere to be found and Hyunjin was now holding two glasses of drink in the middle of unknown faces.

Great.

Trying to get a hold of his friend, Hyunjin navigated the sea of strangers. "I'll stay with you all the time. It will be fun." Honestly, how did he even believe his friend at all? Throughout all the time he looked for him, he made a mental note of never going out with Han again.

Finding a balcony, Hyunjin thought his friend could be there. He probably ran out of social battery and ran away from the crowd. Yeah, that could be it. Even better, as Hyunjin himself couldn't stand being in that party anymore. Maybe they both could just put an end to the night and finally go home.

Hyunjin even smiled at the thought, only to see an empty balcony when he opened the door. He was not going home any time soon apparently.

With the not so optimistic thought, he leaned on the wall and sat down, sighing. That was not how he thought his night was going to look like. Now he was with two cups of a horrible drink, sitting on the dirty floor, shivering because of the cold breeze and -

"There are some blankets in the sofa if you want."

He turned his head quite fast, almost dripping the liquid on the cup into his clothes, to the direction of the voice. You were sitting in the corner of the balcony, where the lights couldn't reach properly. He couldn't see your figure, but as he didn't recognise your voice, he probably didn't even know you to begin with.

"Uh... Thank you" he got up off his spot and went in the direction of the said couch, which was fairly close to where you were sat. There were some blankets in there, and they were surprisingly clean. Hyunjin glanced at you only to see you weren't looking at him anymore, instead facing the view and covering your body with a fabric he believes you took from the couch. "What are you doing?"

You looked at him again. He didn't recognise your face, which proves the fact that he really didn't know you before, but he's sure he won't ever forget you after tonight. You were unfairly beautiful.

"I'm just taking a break from the party" you say nonchalantly "Things can get overwhelming rather quickly there."

Hyunjin chuckled; he knew the feeling very well. Actually, he was drowned in the sensation of "overwhelm" just five minutes before. Funnily enough, he was feeling way better now. Refreshed, even. He sat on the floor, back on the sofa, while he covered his legs with one of the blankets "I know what you mean. The ambience was... Chaotic, to say the least. I'm Hyunjin, by the way."

You smiled and God, he wished he could be the reason to so many of your future smiles. And he was, in fact. That night was only the beginning of a "you" that meant two. The only difference would be that instead of finding yourselves in boring parties, you'd purposely go to each other every cold night, just so you could share a blanket under the starry night.

You would admire the view, he would look at you, and he felt like he had it all right there.

And some of you

But not every night was about staying awake under the moon. Some were actually used to sleep, and how Hyunjin despised those were inexplicable.

At the beginning, he thought he just didn't want to close his eyes when he could be with you instead. That stopped when he convinced you of sharing a bed almost every night. Then he would hug your figure and sleep with a smile on his lips. Sweet dreams would fill his brain until he had to wake up, only to find you in his arms and have the first smile of his day.

However, at some point, the night became full of terrors. Maybe it was that one night where he had a bad dream, where he could feel you slipping away from his fingers. Where no "I'm sorry" or "I love you" convinced you to stay. Where your eyes were still filled with love and admiration, yet you turned your back and went away. Amidst his tears and the dreadful pain in his chest, he felt realisation. The moment he completely lost you. And to wake up to an empty bed was not the confirmation he needed.

"Y/n?" he whispered his voice still too weak to actually speak. That could not be it. He repeated himself, louder. "Y/n?"

He felt his lungs unable to breathe. No no no no no no. There was no way he lost you that easily, that he lost you at all. The moment he tried to get out of bed in a failed attempt to go after you, he shattered down into the floor. It all felt too dark. Too real.

"Hyune?" he heard your voice on the doorstep, now your footsteps coming closer. Thank God. "Hyune, look at me."

You kneeled down next to him, holding his face. Your touch immediately melted him down and he had no other reaction than to hold you as close as he could, like his life depended on that. He could feel your heart beat and your fingers caressing his hair. He could hear your reassuring voice and how your breathing was calming him down. You were there. No matter what was going on inside his head, you were there. With him. Nowhere else. And Hyunjin really swears he did his best to focus on that, but it didn't completely work.

Somewhere in his being, he didn't feel you as completely as he used to. Maybe it was just his inner voice, but, since that night, he was affirmative that he could feel you slipping away. Even if you reassured him of your love, he was still scared. You still looked at him with love when you left on that cursed night after all. Which made him think that maybe it would be his fault. So he really tried as much as he possibly could, and even more. He said "I love you more". He never hesitated on apologising after a fight. He didn't even dream of losing an opportunity to kiss or hug you, especially at night. Especially when he closed his eyes to sleep and he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything if you decided to just leave.

In those moments, his dreams became prayers, asking God to let him be with you. If not forever, at least for most of it.

Some

He tried to convince himself that it wasn't his fault. It was his first time being in love, it was the first time he ever lived for love. He was still learning. At least he was willing to understand and improve, his friends said, so that should mean something. But none of those things helped him forgive himself.

He couldn't, not when he saw you crying. It wasn't the first time that the both of you argued, not the first time he made you stressed, nor the first time you made him want to rip his hair out. But it was mostly certain the first time he made you cry. And with your eyes filled with tears in front of him, he found himself lost. What on earth was he supposed to do?

He'd love to become a time traveler and just go back to where he hadn't screwed everything up. But that was impossible, wasn't it?

Hyunjin was in shock like he had never been before. What had he said? He doesn't even remember, and he doesn't think something that cruel could've come out of his lips. At least not something that he actually meant. So what did he say? Why did he say it?

Maybe he could've kneeled down next to you, just like you did for him that one night where he had a nightmare. But he remembers that, after falling to the ground, he kept on searching for you. He still wanted you to find him, he needed you to come to him. Would you want him to come any closer? Would you want him to hold you? Would you want him?

He didn't know. And in no part of his being he found the strength to find out. Maybe the fear of being rejected, even if temporarily, scared him the most. He hurt you. You had every single reason to want to scream at him, fight him, even run from him. Would Hyunjin be able to take it? If you were to break his heart, would you just scratch it or would you destroy it? Either way, he couldn't take it.

So he just stood there. He watched as you started to seek comfort in the sweater you were wearing, the one that was originally his. He saw your tears falling in the same rhythm of his unsteady breathing. And he doesn't know when his knees failed him and he just fell down to the ground, helplessly, but he felt it alongside with his heart aching.

We'll be alright, he tried to say. Mostly he tried to convince himself of that matter, but he felt nothing but disappointment the moment he saw your face again. He failed you. As your friend, as your lover. And maybe he could try to say it was his first time being in love, but that doesn't take away the guilt that consumes his brain right now.

Maybe he could say that with some more effort, that could be forgotten in the past and he'd love you better, but he didn't know if you could endure more "some" with him.

And now none of you

Maybe that was the worst that ever happened to him. The punishment of feeling your weight in the bed, of feeling your warmth not too far away, but not feeling your touch. Because that was what was happening. And it hurts.

He could only see the back of your body, as you refused to face him during the night. The bed wasn't even that large, but it seemed like there was an entire ocean separating the both of you. It was unfamiliar, so wrong to not have you attached to him. It felt like what he feared the most. And what's possibly worst is that he should've been used to that now as the past nights were like that too. You were still in his sight, but not where he could reach you.

He tries to think of where he failed and how he can turn back. You never showed sighs of going away until he convinced himself you were. He just didn't want to take you for granted. Did he self sabotage instead? All he ever wanted was to love you. How did he miss himself between the lines?

He hears your soothing breathing and he feels like he could cry. When thinking about losing you, he felt like his world was collapsing. He used to do his best to try to keep you by his side. But now he just feels lost, filled with regrets. Simply because he was dumb enough to lose you for nothing. When did it go wrong?

At that moment, he wondered why you were still there. Obviously, he appreciated it more than he could ever explain, but he couldn't understand. Maybe you just wanted to find something, a single reason, that would be able to explain your permanence. After all, he loved you. You loved him just as much. But maybe, because it was your first time being in love, none of you knew that just love wasn't enough. You can adore someone and maybe even then it won't be enough. Merely because it isn't.

Although you wished to stay, maybe it just wasn't correct for you to do so.

That night, Hyunjin finally came to terms with it. Nothing would stop you from leaving. Not even him, not even you, not even love.

Just like he once prayed to have most of forever with you, now he prays that this will not be your last goodbye. Maybe a "see you soon". Maybe a "we will find each other when we're both ready". Anything along these lines. Just not, for God's sake, a final goodbye. Anything but that.

You're a little bit confused when you wake up being held by Hyunjin. Considering how you made sure to have some distance for the night, hoping that would make things easier, it was a shock to find your entire being intertwined with his. He was hugging you like he would never let go and you were counting on that. You almost complied. But when you felt his tears falling on your shirt, right where Hyunjin laid his head, you knew that he knew it too.

That was not how any of you expected it to go, but none of that mattered in the moment. Not when it was already decided. You hugged him closer, in hopes of stopping the inevitable. When it didn't work, you just wished you'd have more opportunities to hug him again.

Take me to the night we met

It was funny, to say the least. The one time Han didn't forget about Hyunjin in a party was because Hyunjin decided to run away himself this time. At least Jisung improved since the last time they partied together.

But right now, all Hyunjin could think of was to breathe. Breathe in, breathe out. Again. The mood inside the party was suffocating: way too many people doing everything at once. It was chaotic, really. So that's how he found himself in the balcony of the hosting house, breathing in every time the cold air touched his face.

When the door opened, he felt the bit of sanity he had left disappearing. No way he could talk or interact with someone without losing his mind; there was a reason he was running away.

He genuinely thought of just asking the person to go away, claiming he needed some space. But when he glanced at the stranger, he realised that he actually knew the person quite well. He promised himself that he would never forget your face after all.

You haven't perceived him just yet,you were too busy looking at the view. Just like the night he met you. He has always thought it was beautiful how you looked at the dark sky. It was almost as if you had a connection to the stars, like you're one of them who got lost in Earth. You for sure looked as dazzling as one.

"There are no blankets this time. I checked."

It was almost comic how fast you turned your head towards him. You didn't believe your ears when you heard his voice, and you now didn't believe your eyes. It was amazing how you always found your way to him whenever you needed a break from the world. Even after going almost no-contact with him, in a way or another you'd always find him. Or perhaps he is the one who'd always meet you.

"I actually needed one right now." you chuckled, feeling yourself a bit vulnerable to the cold breeze. However, your focus was in Hyunjin and how he looked at you in the same way he did before... everything. You probably looked at him just the same. "Do you mind if I stay? Just for a bit, inside there is quite..."

"Chaotic?" He smiled, emanating this huge feeling of peace.

"To say the least." You watched him move a little to the left, leaving you a spot to sit. And so you did.

Although you were both shivering by being exposed to the outside weather, it felt surprisingly warm being next to each other. It still felt comfortable.

He remembers how he once prayed he'd see you again. He did. He also remembers how he wanted to stay the most part of forever with you. Now that he spent some time without you, he wonders if that means that from now on it will be different. He hopes so.

Hyunjin smiled to himself and looked to the sky just in time to see that the moon seemed to smile right back at him. At you both. And he has a feeling that his prayers were heard after all.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: hold me

Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto | images 1, 2 and 3

[cyberrose2001]

HUMAN PET AU <3

Ratchet finally comes home from working all day at the med bay, the poor medic is tired as hell and just wants to relax in the comfort of his own berth. Fortunately enough, ratchet owns an exotic pet. A human he has grown fond of. They are fully trained and even have their own collar (with the message “Please return to Ratchet if lost” written on it), they have also learned how to help Ratchet de-stress by letting him use their hole as his personal flesh light <3 His happy little human loves becoming his cum dump to help him get his frustrations out, such a helpful little pet <33

any continuity of ratchet is fine (pick ur fav!), afab but gender neutral reader please and thank you moni 🙏❤️‍🩹

A Sight For Sore Optics - Human Pet AU

IDW/MTMTE Ratchet x human! afab! gn!Reader

Hi Gem! Thank you so much for your request, I was literally foaming at the mouth ready to write this. To make this more anatomically possible, Ratchet's spike transforms to a more "safer" size. So I hope this is good please be good (I haven't finished reading mtmte yet so forgive me). Also if I have missed any tags please let me know!

Warnings: Xenophilia, Size Kink, Collaring, Oral (both receiving and giving), Masturbation, Praise Kink, Cum Dumping, Mild Dubious Consent (?)

Word Count: 2.3k

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Another day, another few thousand miles of endless space, another few sickly bots. Additionally, a few unkempt humans requiring attention due to poor conditions from their previous owners. With the new organic additions to the Lost Light at the captain's approval, Ratchet had found himself biting off more than he could chew, looking after bots and humans. Oh, how he wished he took up an organic health course or something other than primarily relying on Brainstorm's fervent research on the tiny creatures. Between juggling it all, Ratchet was unsure how much more his threadbare servos could take. Still, there was one thing the old medic was unmistakable about. He was tired.

One good thing, he must admit, is that he gets to return to you. His own human pet, a personal 'Thank you' gift on behalf of the entire crew for his selflessness and hard work, provided with you a basket with fundamental necessities. But the basket had long since been used up, and he had transformed it into a makeshift cot for you. It'll do for now, he had thought.

He was initially still trying to figure out what to think of you. Apart from very rudimentary health checkups and nutritional foods, there wasn't much that Ratchet could provide for you. There's not many enriching activities for such a tiny human like yourself. Until that is, he discovered something quite unusual that had been exhibited in almost every human adopted by the crew so far.

You have an insatiable libido.

Ratchet was unsure, if not downright nervous if other owners were to discover how incredibly beneficial humans could be. Whether or not they had already learned was an entirely different story. It wouldn't surprise Ratchet if that was the very reason why human pets were approved, though it seems shocking. It all seemed so innocent enough, adopting humans for the cuteness factor for the mechs on board. But as with most things, there's always more than just the surface level of what the optic sees. And Ratchet was already way too far below the surface.

Punching in the code for his hab suite, Ratchet waits eagerly for the door to open with twitching digits. He steps inside, tossing whatever work essentials he has on hand on the first bench he sees. He'll worry about reorganising later. Right now, he needs some pet therapy and a well-overdue overload. The dull ache behind his panels only gets stronger as his pedes carry him to his berthroom to you, curled up on his berth. It looked as if you neglected your rudimentary cot, choosing to sleep on his berth instead. The medic can't help the softened expression as he melts at the sight. Of all the things he didn't think he deserved, he never once expected it to be such an adorable little thing like you.

He lets his pedes wander over to you, like countless times before, careful and delicate. He always told himself that this 'fling' he had with you was only temporary and that it was purely for his curiosity, but he tends to find himself aching for you repeatedly. He can't help how his racing neurocircuits seem to fizzle out and calm down when he lies with you.

A roughened servo brushes over your hair to slowly stir you. It looked like you had been napping for some time now, which he believes is a good thing. Brainstorm did say that humans tend to sleep better in environments they consider comfortable. The gentle brushing causes you to stir and lift your head to greet him, though in a language yet to be deciphered. It's a pleasant greeting, and Ratchet can tell they're happy to see him. Something along the lines of 'I missed you,' he'd like to think.

"Hey, squishy. I missed you too," Ratchet smiles warmly. He brushes the hair away from your neck to reveal a collar, "You haven't ripped it off yet. Seems like you like it, hm?"

A slight, sleepy nod in confirmation, you've grasped at what he said. Ratchets' digits trail down to the collar, a small silver plate that reads 'Please Return to Ratchet If Lost - HabSuite ###" engraved in Cybertronian. Not that you tend to wander off, but more or less a just in case. Plus, he gets a thrill seeing his name attached to you. He thumbs it gently, admiring his handy work.

"I'm glad you do. It took me quite some time to make," Ratchet tugs at it softly, beckoning you to come closer. He watches you climb onto his lap, "Such tiny adornments are complex to create, 'specially with hands like mine." A servo cups your back, his thumb moving to play with your soft chest. He shivers when he hears a tiny whimper from you, and you seem eager to play with him already.

"I've had a busy day," A mechanical noise of shifting gears as his spike slides out of its housing, "I think you know what I need." It's well and truly bigger than you, much bigger than your tiny body could ever take. But the way your eyes light up in excitement assures Ratchet that you are more than pleased, already desperately taking off your quirky frame coverings. He eyes off your cute organic valve, notices how dripping wet it is, and staves off a moan.

"C'mere for a second," Ratchet scoops you into his servo to bring you closer to his face. He gets a whiff of your arousal, so earthy and addicting. The more you spread your thighs for him, the more he can smell. He brings you to his intake and licks one hearty stripe up your folds.

Oh yes, he thinks. Better than energon. Better than any high grade to ever pass his dermas, like a warm drink that soothes and revitalises his senses. It thickens on his glossa, groaning at the taste as he swirls it around your little node. He watches intently as you squeal in delight, your thighs trembling around his cheeks and how your little face contorts into one of pleasure. Well, he had always presumed it was in pleasure; you've never exactly shied away from his glossa. He hums when you feel him grinding, desperate little ruts chasing the vibrations.

Ratchet licks one last time at your slick, pulling away to observe. Oral lubricants coat your valve thickly, the sensitive area reddened from his torment. His optics wander up; your soft skin is already flushed and glistening with sweat. He wonders how close you were to overloading; it wouldn't have taken much longer if he had kept going. But his spike grows restless, throbbing against his abdominal plating, begging to be touched by much softer palms than his own.

"Do you want my spike? Hm?" Ratchet teases, "My big spike?" He knows you can't fully understand him, but he can't help but vocalise his salacious fantasy. Holding onto you carefully, he lounges back onto the berth. He bites his bottom derma and lowers you to his lap, showing you his engorged spike, "Go on then, have at it. I'll frag your little brains out soon."

With an encouraging nudge from Ratchet, you straddle the shaft. To anyone else, it looks ridiculous. A tiny human desperately attempting to wrap their arms around a spike that's two times taller than they are. But to any depraved fleshy fragger, it's a sight to behold. Ratchet once thought of snapping a picture to potentially maybe sell it to the highest bidder for those who crave the feeling of such a soft body grinding on them, for he is sure there's a market out there somewhere, probably more than half of the crew onboard. Still, the shame of it all prevents him. There's an image to uphold being the resident medic.

Besides, he'd much prefer to keep you and that curious tongue all for himself.

He feels your little licks along him, a tiny tongue wiggling through the grooves and smooth surface, reaching crevices with hidden nodes that cause his pedes to curl. Soft ruts of your hips press your soaked valve right up against him. He knows what you want. The medic brings a servo to grip around his spike with you squished between, only tight enough to keep you in place as he begins self-servicing himself. He hears you letting out a surprised gasp, then a muffled moan, feeling your grip tighten around him.

"Yeah? You like that, squishy?" Ratchet moans, moving his servo slightly faster, "I bet you-nghh do. You look so cute like that. So tiny pressed against my spike."

Only a taste of your warmth is given through your body, like the little tease you are. Ratchet feels the perspiration dripping off you, likely due to the rise of his internal temperature and the energon being solely diverted to his array. It makes for a mediocre yet acceptable lubrication. He could spike you with it alone, but Ratchet prefers to use alternate practices in the interest of your health. Primus knows how careless other Cybertronians can be with their pets.

The medic is becoming increasingly aware of his overload and yours by the looks of things, your little optics squeezed shut, and your limbs clamped tight around his girth. He consciously decides to stop before you reach it. The idea of you squirming on his spike played on his processor a bit too well. He hears your soft whine at the loss of friction, which Ratchet can't help but chuckle at.

"I know, I know. I'm so mean, aren't I? Hold on, squishy." Ratchet lets you rest against his palm while his weeping spike whirs and clunks inwards to a much more manageable size for a human. His spike may be smaller, but there's not much difference in sensation. Thank Primus for the minicon-compatability modes, "You alright?"

A small squeak from you, yes. The medic watches intently as you waste no time climbing on, guided by his careful servo. You press your little valve against the tip, hissing as it barely slips through. Ratchet digs his pedes into the berth at the intense sensation, gritting his dentae as you bottom out. The feeling is incomparable to anything else; it's uniquely organic, warm, and so, so much softer than mesh.

He then wraps his entire servo around you, effectively turning you into one perfect spike sleeve only for him. Perfectly snug inside you, his grip clenches and unclenches around your torso before gently unsheathing himself from you again.

Ratchet is always careful when he uses you in this manner, ensuring his grip isn't too tight. He pushes you back down again, and he feels you melt into his servo. He hears your little whimpers and cries for him, to go faster, he believes. He learned a long ago that he doesn't need to understand your verbal mumbles when your fleshy hips try to hastefully force yourself down onto him, only halted by his own hand. His grip ever so tightens and gives in to your desperation, or more or less his own.

"You're so good for me, squishy. Hah- Lettin' me use your little valve like a toy." Ratchet mewls, his helm lolling off to the side as his optics flick between your face and the way his spike disappears inside you, "Such a helpful little pet you are."

He feels your velvet walls clamp down on him with each and every praise he gives, your little arms draped over the top of his thumb, clinging on for dear life. Every now and then, he massages your breasts pressed up against it, eliciting more dirty moans from you. Such softness that he can't help but take advantage of.

"So- ngh- tight," Ratchet vents heavily, "Primus, you've ruined me for my own race."

He felt a twinge of shame hearing himself; it was as if he had entirely let himself go. But he knows he can no longer turn back, not when you're the best little creature to ever stumble into his life. Despite him having you wrapped around his digits, it is indeed him wrapped around yours. The relief you bring to him after every gruelling shift, after every stressful day upon this damned ship, had him truly addicted.

And with an internal affirmation of decadence and with your soft little valve clenching and pulsing around his spike, he's sent right over the edge.

"Frag yes, sweetspark!-" He glitches out, pressing you down on his thick shaft as far as your soft little body can tolerate. His energon pulses deeply and shocks his entire body with an overload, shooting gush after gush of transfluids into you. His frame lurches forward, his hips driving into the berth as he milks his throbbing spike, his servo driving it deeper into you in a lust-filled daze. Your whines and cries only spur him on more, and he doesn't stop until you're shaking like a leaf in his hold.

It takes only a few more moments for a spent Ratchet to collapse back with you still in his grip, albeit slumped against his thumb. You're panting hard, and he can only just feel your tiny heart pounding against him. You must have had your own overload by the looks of it if the bliss-filled smile on your soft lips is anything to go by. His optics linger down to your soft, distended stomach and the dripping mess that splatters across your thighs and onto his pelvic plating. Now that truly is a sight for sore optics, he thinks to himself.

Ratchet huffs, bringing his other servo to pat the top of your head, "Now there's my happy little human, huh?" He smiles warmly when he feels you leaning into his touch, "How 'bout I fill you up some more?"

If this was what it took for the old medic to de-stress and relax, then so be it. If he were to be exposed to the rest of the crew, then may he join the rest of them. In secret, for now, he will proudly declare himself a lover of organic flesh.

[jpmarvel90]

Dont Belong Part 3

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Word Count: 7175

Relationship: Mother WandaNat x Daugher Reader

Summary: Y/n's infection is hitting her hard and she's still struggling with her feelings on her parents. Thankfully, Yelena is there to help cheer her up and she brings along a surprise that might just make everything feel better!

Nat: Mama Wanda: Mom

Y/n POV:

These last two days in the hospital have blurred together, a monotonous cycle of dull light and beeping machines. The weight of my infection drags on me, leaving me shivering one moment and sweating the next. I've spent far too much time staring at the ceiling, feeling trapped in this sterile room, yearning for the freedom of my life before the mission went sideways. The boredom is suffocating, and I feel like I'm losing pieces of myself with every passing hour.

I feel a constant gaze from my parents who rarely leave my side. It's strange to go from having them ignore you to being around all the time. Part of me feels like things were like they used to be when I was a full part of their family. The other part of me is screaming saying they don't mean it and will soon be gone again.

But today feels different, a whisper of hope fluttering in the air. I've been waiting for this moment, and when a familiar knock sounds at the door, my heart races with anticipation. "Can I come in?" Yelena's voice calls softly, and I can't suppress the grin that spreads across my face at the sound of her.

"Of course!" I call back, the eagerness spilling over in my tone. I sit up a little straighter, my heart pounding as I manage to prop myself up, using the button on the side of the bed to elevate myself.

The door swings open, and Yelena steps in, her expression a mix of relief and worry. Her golden hair catches the light, and I can see the telltale signs of sleepless nights etched under her eyes. "Y/n!" she breathes, rushing to my side, her voice trembling slightly as she takes my hand.

"Yelena! I'm so glad to see you." The words come out a little breathless, and I can't help the surge of emotion that washes over me. Just seeing her makes the room feel a little less confining, a little brighter.

"I can't believe you're awake," she says, her grip tightening around my fingers. "I was so scared. We all were. You had everyone worried sick." Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of my situation lifts just a bit. I don't think I've ever seen Yelena emotional like this before and it helps me realise how bad this whole situation is. She would never allow anyone to see her this vulnerable except for Mama.

"Hey, I'm okay. Well, sort of." I gesture weakly to the IV drip, the hospital bed, and the machines that surround me. "Just a little out of commission at the moment."

Yelena's smile is tentative but bright, yet it's overshadowed by the concern etched on her face. "I just hate seeing you hurt like this. You're my niece and I thought I would always be here to protect you." She shares honestly.

I give her hand a squeeze and share a warm smile when she finally looks up to me. "I can't be protected forever. Besides, I need you now. This recovery is going to be shit and I need you to help me when it gets too much." I reassure her and she nods. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to help you through it all. Stark has even set me up on the same floor as you. So, I'll be there whenever you need me." She explains, making my heart warm with the thought of seeing her for a while to come.

"What about the widows?" I ask, knowing how much that means to her. "I've already been able to help so many. Now I need to help you. The others can wait. Besides, Kate can do the research on where we need to go next." She replies. "Who's Kate?" I ask, surprised to hear that she is working with someone else.

"Just a stray that Clint found. She's annoying, but oddly fun to be around. I think you'd like her. I'm sure she'll be around at some point to say hi." She explains with a shrug.

As the initial shock of seeing me seems to fade, I can see the corners of Yelena's mouth twitching upward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. It's as if she's flipping a switch, her demeanour transforming from worried auntie to the playful, teasing friend I know and love.

"You know," she starts, leaning back slightly and crossing her arms, "for someone who just woke up from a dramatic hospital nap, you look surprisingly like a zombie. I mean, I thought they had strict rules against bringing the undead into the hospital."

I let out a soft laugh, despite the ache in my chest. "Yeah, well, the food here isn't exactly helping my cause. I'm pretty sure I could survive off of those tasteless mushy meals for a week and still look better than this."

Yelena raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "Mushy meals? I'd expect you to be on some gourmet diet, considering all the special treatments they give you. I'm starting to think you should at least get some ice cream as a post-surgery reward." She chuckles. "Now that's the kind of thinking I can get behind. Have a word with Tony yeah?" I reply, feeling my spirits lift. "Ice cream sounds amazing. But what are the odds of that happening here?"

"Zero. But I'm prepared for this. I'll break you out of this place and take you for ice cream. You just need to give me the signal, and I'll burst in through the window like a stealthy ninja." She mimics a dramatic leap and landing in mama's pose. "See, I'll even do my best poser impersonation!" She playfully teases and she now starts to pretend to scale the invisible walls of my hospital room, her expression shifting to one of exaggerated seriousness. "You can count on me, Y/n. Ice cream shall be yours!"

I chuckle, the image of Yelena performing an acrobatic escape making the heaviness of the past days lift a little more. "What flavour are we talking here? I hope it's not vanilla. I have standards, you know."

"Vanilla? Please! I was thinking more along the lines of double chocolate fudge with extra sprinkles. And maybe a side of cherry sauce because why not go big, right?" She shares her thoughts whilst taking the seat next to me again. Her hand resting over mine. "Now you're speaking my language," I respond, shaking my head in mock seriousness. "If I'm risking a hospital breakout, it better be worth it." I laugh.

Yelena sits back in her seat, her chest still rising and falling as she laughs at her own hilariousness. She then looks back up at me. "But seriously, let's plan this for when you're feeling better. I'm not above a hospital escape." Her grin is contagious, and I can feel the tension in my shoulders easing. "Deal. Just don't forget the sprinkles."

As our laughter fills the room, I realize how much I've missed this lightness, this camaraderie. It's comforting to think about having Yelena by my side as I navigate the uncertainty of recovery and family dynamics.

But beneath the playful banter, there's an unspoken understanding between us, a bond that allows me to express my fears without words. With Yelena around, I feel like I can face whatever comes next, armed with humour and the knowledge that I'm not alone in this fight.

"Just promise me one thing," I say, my voice turning more serious again. "Anything," she replies, her gaze earnest. "Don't let me give up on the ice cream party, okay? No matter what happens."

"Never! I'll be your ice cream guardian," she declares, puffing out her chest with mock pride. "We will have that party, and it will be legendary. I will personally ensure that you have the sprinkles of life!"

With that promise hanging in the air, I know I can count on her not just for ice cream but for so much more as I navigate this complicated recovery. Even amidst the challenges, I feel a renewed sense of strength.

Though the playful atmosphere soon disappears as Yelena looks at me with a hurt look. "You know," Yelena begins cautiously, glancing around the room as if making sure no one else can hear, "I've been really worried about you. Seeing you like this. It's been hard. I didn't expect to walk in and see my Y/n looking so weak."

"Yeah, well, welcome to the aftermath of a bullet wound," I respond, a hint of sarcasm lacing my tone, but her expression remains sombre. "I mean it, Y/n," she says, her voice low. "I can handle all sorts of dangerous missions, but this... this was different. You're my niece. I've seen too many people get hurt, and it scares me to think about what could have happened if things went even more wrong."

"I know. I didn't want to worry you, but... it's not like I planned to get shot," I reply, my voice softening. "I was trying to do my best, and it went sideways."

"It's not your fault," Yelena reassures me, squeezing my hand gently. "But promise me you'll be careful. Don't rush back into missions. I can't go through this again. I thought I lost you."

"I'm not going anywhere yet. You've got me for a while longer," I say with a playful lilt, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Her smile falters, but she doesn't let go of my hand. "You have to promise me you won't get hurt again. I mean it. You don't have to be the hero all the time, you know." The gravity of her words sinks in, and I can feel a lump forming in my throat. "I thought I was doing well. I thought it was my chance to prove myself," I admit, my voice quieter now. "Prove yourself? You don't need to do that. You're already a part of this family," she insists, her voice firm but gentle.

But I can't shake the feeling of inadequacy, the bitter sting of doubt that lingers in the corners of my mind. "I don't feel like it," I confess, looking down at our hands intertwined. "Not after everything that's happened. My parents... I don't know. It's complicated." I begin tentatively, not sure how to express the turmoil inside me.

"They've hurt me for so long, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around why they suddenly seem to care. It feels like. I don't know, like they're trying to make up for lost time. They've been... around. Too around, if you know what I mean. They've been acting all concerned, but it feels more like an obligation."

I've felt torn about this since I've woke up. They're around all the time and trying to do everything that can to help me. But all I can think about is how much they have hurt me and if they would ever be able to make up for their past actions.

Yelena nods, her expression serious. "It's okay to be conflicted. They've done wrong by you, and you have every right to be angry. But if they're genuinely trying to change, maybe there's a chance for you to heal too." She suggests, similar to how Steve has these last two days.

"I don't want to forgive them just because they're here now. It feels disingenuous," I admit, frustration seeping into my voice. "I've been raised to believe that actions speak louder than words, and I need to see real change." I state irritated. "Then hold them to that standard," she urges, her voice steady. "Don't let them slide by just because they're your parents. You deserve more than that." She iterates.

"I guess I'm just afraid of being disappointed again," I whisper, feeling a shiver of vulnerability wash over me. It hurt so much when I slowly seemed to disappear from their lives. I don't think I could experience that again. "What if they go back to ignoring me once I'm healed? What's the point of this?" I share, tears stinging my eyes.

Yelena leans closer, her brow furrowing as she studies my face. "That's not fair to you. They hurt you, and it's okay to be angry about that. But you deserve to feel loved and cared for. You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for." "Stronger?" I scoff lightly, but inside I feel a flicker of hope. "I barely survived my first mission and ended up in a hospital bed. That doesn't feel strong."

"Strength isn't just about fighting, Y/n. It's about surviving, too. You survived, and you're still here. You're still fighting." Her voice softens, and I can see her eyes glistening with tears. I nod slowly, her words resonating with me. "You're right. I just don't want to get hurt like that again. I thought joining SHIELD would mean I'd finally be seen, but now... it feels like a mess."

Yelena shakes her head, frustration evident in her expression. "No. You're not a mess. You're human. They need to step up and show you that you matter, but that doesn't mean you have to accept their love without question. You get to set the boundaries. You get to decide what you want from them moving forward. But I do believe that you have to give them a chance to show you that they've changed." She shares, taking me by surprise.

"It was years Yelena. How can I move to just forgive them for everything that's happened? Just because they're here for my recovery, doesn't mean it makes up for everything that they've done." I raise my voice getting frustrated that no one seems to understand the depth of how much this has affected me.

She thinks for a moment before speaking up. "I know I can't understand the pain they caused you. When I heard about what they did to you, I was ready to kick both of their asses. But I've seen this determination in them. Especially Nat. I just don't want you to let the anger eat you alive. You deserve more than that. You deserve to heal, not just physically, but emotionally, too." Her words resonate deep within me. I can feel the weight of my resentment pressing against my chest, threatening to suffocate me. "It's just hard, Yelena. I don't know if I can trust them again. What if they just go back to how things were?"

"That's the risk, but it's also a chance for something better. Maybe this could be the start of a new chapter for you all," she replies, her voice filled with hope. "I mean, how many people get a second chance to rewrite their story? You can make it count." She tries to reason with me. "Or I could just end up disappointed again," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey, no one said life was easy," she counters, leaning forward, her tone shifting to a playful challenge. "You've faced worse. You survived a bullet wound, for Christ's sake! How about you take that strength and channel it into something more positive? Like confronting your parents." She suggests. "Confront them?" I echo, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach.

"Yeah! You're a badass. You fought off those Hydra agents; you can fight for your own happiness." she encourages. "Don't let anyone else dictate your worth. Not your parents, not Hydra. No one."

"I'll think about it," I concede, knowing that deep down, she's right. Maybe facing my parents isn't just about them; it's about taking control of my own narrative, my own healing. "Good," Yelena replies, her smile brightening the room once more. "And remember, no matter what you decide, I'll be right here, cheering you on. We're in this together, ice cream and all."

As I gaze into her determined eyes, I feel the flicker of hope igniting within me. Yelena is right. I can't let the past dictate my future. Perhaps I can find a way to reclaim my voice, my choices. And with her by my side, I feel like I can face whatever comes next.

__________

The soft hum of the machines is a constant companion, a backdrop to the quiet conversation happening in the room. Mama and mom sit nearby, each offering their own version of silent support. Mama, with her usual calm demeanour, sits crossed legged in the chair near the foot of my bed. Her posture is relaxed, but her sharp eyes betray her constant vigilance. She notices everything, always has, and I can feel her observing me like she's looking for something beneath the surface. Mom on the other hand, has stationed herself at my side, like aways. She's less fussy, thankfully, but still has to be close, like I'm going to disappear if she's not.

Sometimes, I find the silence unbearable compared to their constant and sometimes suffocating fussing over me. I feel on edge, like they're waiting for me to talk to them. I think back to what Yelena said about confronting them and doing it on my terms. But I want to do it in the right frame of mind, and at the moment, this infection is still kicking my ass.

Mama breaks the silence as her well trained eyes watch me for a while. "How are you feeling Y/n?" She asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies me, as though she's trying to catch me out if I say the wrong thing. "A bit better." I respond with a slight nod, my words carefully measured. I don't want to give too much away. Not about how I'm feeling and especially not about the swirl of doubt that's been growing inside of me since the incident.

"Are you sure? You're sweating." She points out, sitting up. Mom goes to reach for my forehead, but quickly retreats her hand. She's been trying really hard not to be too much and I'm grateful for that. I should have known that she could see straight through me and notice the discomfort I'm in. "Just a little." I admit. "Is there anything we can do? Would you like some water? Or we could change the quilt for a blanket if that would help?" Mom suggests.

I think for a moment before giving in, knowing that I am burning up a little too quickly. "The blanket would be better if that's ok." I respond, earning a warm smile from mom as she stands and moves to grab the blanket as mama takes the quilt and folds it up. "Better?" Mom asks as the thin blanket now rests over my legs. "Yes. Thank you." I quietly respond.

"You're being strong, but you don't have to be." Mom says, her voice soft but persuasive. Her green eyes watching me too closely. "We're here for you." She states. Something I've heard more these last few days than I have in my whole like.

I offer a tight smile. "I appreciate that." I reply, but there's something hollow in my words, something they both notice. I see it in the flicker of mama's eyes, in the slight frown mom tries to hide. They want me to let them in, to trust them. But I can't. No right now.

The knock on the door interrupts the thick atmosphere. As we all look to the door, a smile grows on my face as Yelena pushes open the door, bursting in to the room with her usual energy. Her blonde hair bounces around her shoulders as she strides in, a smirk on her lips. She's a welcome distraction from the unspoken suspicions swirling in my mind.

Behind her, there's someone new. A brunette with wide eyes and a slightly awkward smile follows in her wake, holding a small bouquet of flowers in her hands. It's clear she doesn't quite know what to do with them as she shifts nervously, standing next to Yelena like she's trying to figure out how to fit in. "This is Kate." Yelena says with a grin, motioning to the brunette with a flourish. "Oh, right. The annoying stray Clint picked up." I reply with a grin, my eyes flicking between Yelena and the new girl. I feel a small flutter of nerves in my chest, but I push it aside, trying to appear casual.

Kate gasps dramatically, placing her hand over her chest as if wounded. "Annoying stray? Really? Is that how Yelena described me?" She shoots Yelena a mocking glare, then turns to me with a playful twinkle in her eyes. "Don't listen to her. I'm delightful, I promise." She smirks.

There is something instantly disarming about her. Her smile is infectious, and I find myself grinning back before I can stop myself. "I'll be the judge of that." I say, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Kate's laugh is light. "Well, I guess I better make a good impression then huh. I'm Kate. Nice to finally meet you."

As if she suddenly becomes aware of the other two people in the room, Kate suddenly becomes a lot more nervous as she steps forward, holding out the flowers a little awkwardly. "I, uh, thought some flowers might brighten up the place." She says her voice light but tinged with nervousness. "If you don't like them, I can... I don't know, take them back or something."

I can't help but smile at the sudden awkwardness, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. There's something captivating about her, a clumsy sincerity that feels genuine. Like she's not trying to be anything other than who she is. If's refreshing, in contrast to the more guarded and calculated vibes in the room.

"No, no. They're nice. I love them." I say, accepting the flowers with a smile. "Thank you." I say gratefully. Mom steps in to help, taking the flowers from Kate and placing them on the beside table. She flashes Kate a smile, but I can't help but notice the way her eyes flick between me and Kate, like she's sizing up the interaction. Her protective nature is sweet, but right now it feels like an intrusion, like she's watching too closely.

Yelena of course, can't let the moment go without making it awkward. "Oh great. The two of you are already making goo-goo eyes at each other." She says with a snort, dropping herself into a chair next to mama with a dramatic sigh. "I should have seen this coming." She says to her sister. "Goo-goo eyes?" I sputter, my cheeks burning. "Yelena, we literally just met." Kate for her part, looks just as flustered, running a hand through her hair as she laughs awkwardly. "Yeah wow, not even five minutes in and I'm already being roasted. Thanks Yelena." Yelena has a mischievous grin as she gives Kate a thumbs up. "Hey, I call it like I see it." She shrugs.

I glance at Kate again, and despite the teasing, there's something about her that puts me at ease. Something feels unguarded in a way that I haven't felt around my parents lately. She seems real, no hidden motives, no unreadable layers. Just Kate, awkward and charming in her own way.

Mama raises an eyebrow at Yelena's comment but stays quiet, observing as always. Mom though let's out a soft chuckle, her eyes softening for a moment as she looks between Kate and me. "I think it's sweet." She says, but there's an undercurrent to her words. A subtle probing as if she's gauging how close I'm willing to let this new person get.

I shift uncomfortably in my bed, trying to shake off the unease. "Kate seems nice." I say, trying to keep things light. "But you don't need to start planning a wedding already." I joke, earning a loud laugh from Kate.

Yelena leans back in her chair, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Well, you're already doing better than most people who meet Y/n. She doesn't usually warm up to strangers this fast."

"Yelena." I mutter, shooting her a look, but the playful banter is enough to make me feel a bit more like myself again. Even if the tension with my parents still lingers beneath the surface.

Mama exchanges a glance with mom, and I can feel the weight of their unspoken thoughts. They're both protective, maybe even a little suspicious of the new dynamic. I know they're trying to look out for me, but their watchful eyes feel too heavy right now and to be honest, they don't have the right to have any thoughts on this right now. They've barely been my parents for the last couple of years. They don't suddenly have a say in who I'm friends with.

"Well, at least you brought someone who isn't here to lecture me about being shot." I tease, giving Yelena a pointed look. Kate grins clearly relieved the conversation has shifted. "I'm just here for the heist planning." She smiles, her tone light. "Whatever Yelena has you roped into, I'm in." I join in the joke. Yelena perks up at that. "Oh, you have no idea what you've signed up for Bishop. This one here," she jerks her thumb at me, "has a history with getting into trouble."

Kate moves to take the seat next to me as both my parents decide to give us some space and grab some lunch. I'm grateful for them being able to read the room, but I notice the observant and narrow gaze of mama as she passes by Kate. I'm pretty sure I see Kate gulp a little which makes me laugh lightly.

"So," Kate asks, crossing her arms. "what's the plan for today? Ice cream, hospital jailbreak or maybe both?" She smiles, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter. "Oh, Yelena's already promised me ice cream, but she keeps postponing the jailbreak." I tease, glancing over at Yelena who's pretending not to listen.

Kate lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. "Typical. She makes all these grand promises, and then when it comes time to actually execute..." Kate starts teasingly before Yelena speaks up. "I'm literally right here." She complains, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. "And for the record. I would have busted you out, but your mother threatened to remove all the mac and cheese from the building if I did." She admits with a child like huff.

"Still scared of mama huh?" I smirk, earning a harsh stare from my aunt. "No!" She defends loudly. "Well, maybe when it comes down to you." She admits quietly, making Kate and I laugh. "Well, well. I've finally discovered the one thing Yelena Belova is scared of." Kate torments Yelena. "Yeah, well don't forget that you're the one scared of me." Yelena points out giving her fiercest glare. Something that makes Kate shrink back into her seat. "Yep. You're right. Sorry." She apologises goofily, making me smile even wider.

There's a beat of silence, but it's not awkward. It's easy, comfortable, and I'm surprised at how quickly I've warmed up to Kate. She's sharp, funny and there's a confidence about her that makes me feel more at ease. I can tell she's someone who doesn't take life too seriously, but there's a genuine warmth underneath the sarcasm.

Yelena is watching us again, her arms crossed, and her eyebrow arched like she's trying to figure out how this is going to play out. "You know, I might actually enjoy watching this." She says, her voice laced with amusement. "You two are way too cute. It's like watching a rom-com in real time." She smirks

"Okay, enough of that." I say quickly, feeling my face begin to flush, this time not due to my infection! I glance to Kate who is grinning like she's in on some joke that I'm not, and I can't help but laugh. "Yelena, don't you have some Widow business to attend to?" I question hopefully. "Nope." She says cheerfully, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "I'm on babysitting duty today." She smiles proudly whilst I just roll my eyes. Maybe I do want my parents back right now!

Kate leans closer to me, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Does she always talk like that, or is it just for us?" She questions. "Always." I whisper back, earning a glare from Yelena. "Alright, alright." Yelena says, pretending to be offended, but her eyes twinkle with amusement. "I can see when I'm not wanted. I'll give you two some space. Try not to flirt too much while I'm gone." She teases.

"And you," she stops in front of Kate, a stern look on her face. "If she so much as flinches you call the nurse. I will have your head if anything happens to her." She warns her lowly. Kate just nods, gulping at the threat. "P-promise." She stutters. "Good. Text me if you need anything. Now have fun being all awkward and flirty." She smirks as she saunters out of the room.

Suddenly, it's just the two of us, the room quieter but still filled with that easy, playful energy. I glance over at Kate, feeling a bit of awkwardness settle in. But it's the good kind that makes my heart race a little.

"So, what now?" I ask, trying to sound casual? Kate shrugs, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I don't know. I mean, we could plot that jailbreak. Or maybe..." She pauses, her eyes meeting mine. "We could just hang out and get to know each other a little better." She suggests.

There's a warmth in her gaze, something that makes my heart flutter, and for the first time in a while, I feel a sense of excitement. Not just for the ice cream or the jokes, but the possibility of something new. Something good. And maybe, just maybe, I'm ready for it.

Nat's POV:

My sharp eyes have always picked up on the subtle shift in a person's demeanour, the tiniest details that others overlook. Right now, I'm studying Kate Bishop. She's awkward sure. A little too wide-eyed and jittery, holding onto those flowers like she's afraid they might combust. There's a clumsy sincerity to her that I can't decide if I trust yet. Y/n though... Y/n is smiling. Laughing even, and I haven't seen that kind of lightness in her face in far too long. Still, I remain cautious.

I watch as Y/n teases Kate, the easy flow of their banter rolling off Y/n's tongue without the weight that usually accompanies her words. It's almost as if she's forgotten, if only for a few minutes, about the turmoil she's been going through. And while I want that for her, there's a part of me that can't let go of my protective instincts. That part that wants to dig deeper into who Kate Bishop really is, figure out if she's worthy of my daughter's trust.

Because Y/n doesn't let people in easily. Wanda and I have made that even harder for her now. To be able to trust is a difficult thing. I don't want to see her hurt more than she currently is. Not after everything that I've caused.

Wanda's voice pulls me out of my thoughts as she steps up beside me, her arms crossed but her expression soft, watching the interaction with a gentler gaze than I have. "She looks happy." Wanda murmurs. Her voice has that quiet thoughtful tone that always means she's been observing the situation for longer than I realised.

I nod, though I don't take my eyes off of Y/n. "She does." I admit reluctantly. Wanda notices this and quickly makes up an excuse of going to get some lunch and we quickly exit the room. Probably much to Y/n's delight!

"You don't like it?" Wanda asks, her lips twitching into a small smile. She can read me too easily, knows exactly what I'm feeling even when I try to keep it to myself. We hover in the corridor outside of Y/n's room as I sigh. "I didn't say that." I glance towards my wife, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but I know you." She chuckles softly, and it's a warm, comforting sound that cuts through the tension I've been holding in my chest. "Nat, you don't trust her yet." It's not a question, and I don't answer right away. Instead, I look back through the window into Y/n's room. My eyes falling to the pair of them. Y/n has leaned a little closer to Kate, her laughter soft, her smile genuine. Kate's making some grand gesture with her hands, her enthusiasm endearing in its awkwardness. Okay, I think. Maybe she's not so bad.

But still. "I just don't know her." I say finally, my voice low. Wanda hums in understanding, her gaze never leaving Y/n. "But look at her, Nat. She's the happiest we've seen her in a long while." She points out. I know she's right. Y/n hasn't had this kind of lightness in her eyes since the incident. Even in the days leading up to it, she was closed off, burdened by the trauma we had caused her. I couldn't do anything to help her, I couldn't fix what I had broken. And now here comes this Kate Bishop, breezing in like a ray of sunshine, making Y/n smile like it's the easiest thing in the world.

I sigh, crossing my arms tighter over my chest. "Maybe." I admit after a pause, my voice quieter now, more reflective. "Maybe Kate is what Y/n needs right now." Wanda turns her head to look at me fully, a surprised look on her face, but she soon gives me a soft knowing smile. "That's not easy for you to say."

"No, it's not." I say honestly. "But I can't ignore how she's acting. It's good to see her like this." I glance to Yelena who's still grinning like a proud instigator of all this chaos. Y/n has her laughing too, which is aways a good sign. "And Kate, she's not what I expected." I share.

There's an awkward clumsiness about the girl sure. But underneath that, there's a kindness in her eyes, something genuine that makes me reconsider my initial assessment. She's not just some reckless kid, despite the reputation. She cares and that means something.

Wanda places a gentle hand on my arm, squeezing lightly. "It's ok to let your guard down a little." I chuckle under my breath at her words. "I don't think I'm wired that way, Wanda." I reply. "I know." She laughs softly. "But maybe you can try. Kate isn't here to hurt Y/n. She's just, being a friend. Maybe that's exactly what Y/n needs right now." I nod, though my instincts still bristle at the idea of lowering my walls completely. "You're right. But I'm not going to stop being protective. Not after we failed her so badly." My gaze hardens just a fraction. "I can't."

Wanda's expression softens further, understanding in her eyes. "No one's asking you to stop protecting her Nat. Just, give this a chance. What ever it might be." She pleads. I look at Y/n again. She's relaxed in a way I haven't seen her in months. The tightness in her shoulders is gone, replaced by something lighter, freer. And I realise that I'm not the only one trying to protect her. Maybe, in her own way, Kate is too.

"I'll give it a chance." I mutter quietly. "But I'll be watching." Wanda smiles knowingly. "I wouldn't expect anything less." She says as both our gazes fall to our daughter. Just then, Kate says something that makes Y/n burst out laughing, the sound so full of life that it catches me off guard. My heart clenches that it's taken this long. That Wanda and I created an environment where she felt like she no longer belonged in this family.

I know it's going to take time for her to even consider forgiving us. But I know that it's important that she has other people around her that she can talk to and have fun with. If it's just Wanda and me she'll become completely closed off. Maybe being around Kate is exactly what she needs. It doesn't mean I'll let my guard down completely. Not yet. I will always protect her. That's what mother's do. Even if I haven't proven my right to that title in a long time.

_________

As Wanda and I step back into our home, the familiar chaos of our boys welcomes us like a warm embrace. The scent of something sweet wafts through the air, mixing with the sharp, clean smell of wood polish from our recent cleaning efforts. I can hear the muffled sounds of laughter and playful shouting emanating from the living room, and it brings a smile to my face despite the heaviness still clinging to my heart.

Tommy and Billy have been asking about their sister non-stop over the last few days, and every time, I see the worry deepen in their little faces. They've felt the weight of Y/n's absences as much as we have, maybe more.

"Hey, you two!" I call out, my voice breaking through the din. Almost immediately, Tommy and Billy come barrelling into the hallway, their faces lighting up like it's Christmas morning. They launch themselves at us, wrapping their arms around my waist and Wanda's legs in a tangle of limbs and giggles. It's a comforting noise, one that momentarily pulls me away from the weight of the world outside these walls.

"Mom! Mom! How's Y/n? Is she okay?" Tommy's voice rises with excitement, his wide eyes sparkling with a mixture of hope and anxiety. I exchange a glance with Wanda, who stands beside me, her own expression tinged with a protective softness. It's a moment like this that reminds me just how much the boys adore their sister.

"She's still unwell, sweetheart," I say gently, kneeling down to meet Tommy's gaze at eye level. "But she's doing better than she was. She'll be home soon." I try to sound optimistic, but the knot in my stomach betrays me. I know how much they want to see Y/n, and how hard it's been for them to understand why she isn't here with us.

"Soon? Like tomorrow?" Billy asks, bouncing on his toes, his dark hair flopping into his eyes. There's a slight hopefulness in his voice, and it makes my heart ache, knowing they're so eager for good news. Wanda steps in beside me, placing a hand on Tommy's shoulder, her touch gentle and reassuring. "She's going to need a few more days in the hospital, honey. She's got to rest and get better first." I watch the way Wanda's eyes soften when she speaks to the boys, how she has an innate ability to make even the hardest truths sound a little lighter.

"But her birthday is coming up!" Tommy exclaims suddenly, his expression shifting from concern to realization. "We have to make it special for her! Can we plan a perfect birthday for her in her hospital room?" His enthusiasm is infectious, and a flicker of warmth spreads in my chest at his determination. Billy nods vigorously, his face lighting up with ideas. "Yeah! We can decorate it and bring her cake! She'll love that!" The energy in the room shifts, and I can see both boys imagining the decorations they might hang, the cake they might bake, and the joy they hope to bring their sister.

"That's a great idea," I agree, feeling a swell of pride as I watch them brainstorm. "But we need to wait until she's feeling a bit better, okay? We don't want to overwhelm her." Tommy frowns slightly, his brow furrowing in thought. "When can we see her?" His voice is earnest, full of longing. I can hear the worry tucked beneath his words, and it tugs at my heart. "Yeah, we want to see Y/n!" Billy adds, his expression mirroring his brother's eagerness.

Wanda glances at me, and I can feel the weight of our responsibilities bearing down. "We'll take you to see her in the morning," I promise, seeing their faces light up with hope. "But remember, she might be tired and need to rest, so we have to be gentle with her."

"Yay!" Tommy cheers, his voice ringing through the hallway, and Billy joins in, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. Their joy is palpable, a reminder of the happiness that can still exist even amidst uncertainty and pain.

Just then, Steve steps out from the kitchen, having been quietly observing the boys from a distance. His presence brings a calmness to the chaos, and I find comfort in knowing he's here. "Hey, how are you two doing?" he asks, his eyes twinkling as he takes in the scene of our little family reunion.

"Mama and mom just told us that Y/n is coming home soon!" Tommy exclaims, practically vibrating with excitement, his hands flailing as he gestures animatedly.

"Yeah, and we're planning the best birthday for her ever!" Billy adds, his voice bubbling over with enthusiasm, his cheeks flushed with energy.

"Sounds like you're all set for a celebration," Steve says with a smile, nodding approvingly. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms as he watches the boys with fondness. "I'll leave you to it. Just let me know if you need anything." He shoots us a knowing look, one that acknowledges the weight of what we're dealing with, before stepping back into the kitchen.

As Wanda and I stand there, our boys filled with excitable plans, I can't help but feel a mix of gratitude and dread. Gratitude for the moments of joy, the laughter that fills our home, and the love that binds us together. Sadness that our family isn't complete and dread for the challenges still ahead. We're still on shaky ground, still trying to piece together the remnants of our family after everything that's happened.

But for now, I push those worries aside. I take a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of our home, and look around at the smiling faces of my children. "Okay, let's start planning for this birthday celebration!" I suggest, my heart lifting at the idea of planning something special for Y/n.

"We need balloons. And streamers!" Tommy states excitedly, his eyes bright with ideas. "And cake!" Billy insists, his mouth already watering at the thought. "What kind should we get her?"

As we brainstorm, I can't help but smile. We'll take this one step at a time. Tomorrow, we'll bring the boys to see Y/n, and hopefully, we'll be one step closer to bringing her home where she belongs. Hopefully, she'll see that we plan to be the best parents to her and in time she'll forgive us. I feel a flicker of hope, ignited by the boys' excitement and determination to make their sister smile, to show her that she is loved and missed.

"Let's get started," I say, my voice full of warmth as I gather them into a huddle, my heart swelling with pride. Together, we can do this. Together, we can find a way to help Y/n heal, and maybe even begin to mend the cracks that have formed in our family.

Taglist: @reggierizzoli @ordelixx @mousetheorist @oh-thats-cute @bstvst @waiqui @fxckmiup @kosmichs1 @theprincipality

[waytootiredstudent]

Öhm. So this has gotten a wider reach than I thought! It does feel good to read the notes and to know none of us are alone in this moment what the actual fuck is happening.

Have an update. Because new things have happened and because in my attempt to keep it as a brief overview I skipped over. Like. A lot.

The tldr version:

There are two different votes, one to dissolve Parlament, one to elect Parlament. Theres a lot of discussion about that. It's the vote of no confidence that Merz is calling for to be next week, not an election!

Currently we don't have a majority in the goverment to, well, govern. Some ministers have two ministries to look after now. The guy who just got kicked from his job is already loudly proclaiming he wants to be finance minister again in the next coalition. Insanity all around.

The long version:

Let's start with something that made me laugh to keep the mood from being so doom-y yes?

You are so correct I love to know that thank you very much.

Now to clear up a little misunderstanding in the notes:

There's two different votes:

A vote of no confidence

An election

Those are two different things with two different time frames. In my attempt to keep it brief I think I scrapped one paragraph too many.

What Merz, the CDU guy that is a human being that forgot its soul somewhere on the way, has called for to happen next week is the vote of no confidence. Not the election itself. The vote of no confidence would dissolve Parlament if Scholz, the current chancellor, loses it, which it's pretty sure that he would. According to our Constitution after the dissolvement of Parlament, they 60 days to hold an election. Ppl responsible for that have already said "I mean this is our job yeah we can do that". Scholz wants that vote to happen in January, to hold the election in march.

Now that we got that out of the way, let's return to the insanity shall we?

Yes I understand completely but there's more:

So you remember how I said this is a messy divorce? The FDP has kept most of their children (the ministers, besides the one drama bitch that jumped ship)(yes the FDP didn't even manage a collective walkout why do you ask) but that left the seats open and the coalition needs to fill them. Which has resulted in a mud feast of accusations about how the coalition is putting up there friends in those seats to get them money and pensions and there have been calls to stop all promotions.

Well I don't know if you know that but you do need ministers to keep your goverment functioning.

Which is way there are now a couple ministers, including the one of the FDP that jumped ship, hold two ministries. The swearing of the new ones was so hasty that a couple ministers didn't make it and had their secretaries (I sure hope thats the right translation of the job lol) be their instead as a witness.

Now we have different problem besides that nobody knows what's going on or can agree on what's supposed to happen. Our current government is a minority goverment. Which is why Merz, you remember, the corpse of a human being that somehow convinced everybody that he's technically alive and should be given money for it, yes I am biased is that obvious, has called for the vote of no confidence to be called next week. So the elections could happen mid January instead of mid march.

Now. Let's break that down. What happens after a vote of no confidence?

Well if he loses Parlament will dissolve. Great time right now to not have a functioning goverment right?

Yeah. That. So everybody is split everybody is yelling over each other, there have been already two closed door meetings, one between the CDU and SPD (current chancellor's party), and there has been no agreement on any front. So it's currently a 'waiting with baited breath on what the fuck is going to happen'. Will we have a functioning goverment tmw?

Who knows! Not us!

Well i hope we will and I hope they get their shit together and agree on something because let me tell you I am not made for this kinda stress.

Best summed up like this:

I am so sorry btw for everyone that put their phone aside to escape the America election meltdown just to come back and find the German government meltdown.

Now we go backt to where it all started. Recently fired ex-finance minister Lindner. Yeah that bitch.

He is already making noise about how he's gonna be the candidate of his party in the upcoming election and that he's ready finance minister again.

Like bitch. Or son of a bitch in this case. Take a hint. You just got fired.

Let me just remind you that it hasn't even been 24h since Scholz kicked Lindner and the FDP out. All of this. Happend in under 24 hours.

Okay alright sorry for all the sudden German politics influx but lemme explain what happened so far and why Germans are losing it a bit:

The tldr? Our government is getting a divorce and it's turning messy with elections being called early and now being called even earlier.

The longer version?

Okay so, groundwork first:

in Germany there is a coalition currently in power called the Ampel(traffic lights) bc the colours of the party are red, yellow and green (or not anymore or for much longer??). They're centrist slightly more left leaning than right leaning. (You could argue about that I am aware). There has been infighting for as long as this coalition has been going on. It is also the first three party coalition since y know, the Last Time.

So. Enough groundwork. The yellow party (FDP) has a finance minister (Christiane Lindner) it's this guy

You will see him in memes I am sure. We don't like him. He's an asshole and has blocked every meaningful change that the coalition had been trying to accomplish. He also got his finance plan blocked by our highest court because parts were against our Constitution.

(.... I am oversimplifying hard here it's actually more complicated than that and not fully his fault, but it's also not the focus)

What WAS the fault though of him and the FDP was that they had a strong position of "saving money at all costs" which made bigger and bigger rifts with the two other coalition partners who were more leaftleaning. The war in Ukraine, Infrastructure, climate change - there were many places that needed more money and Lidner was like naaahhhhh for no fucking reason other than "oh we need to save money!!"

Long story short there have been arguing all the fucking time and therefore have started to lose approval. Drastically lose approval. As on for the first time since the Last Time there is a far right party in charge for part of the country that is also being investigated for being Nazis. (Oversimplifying again).

Which is. Worrying. You know. Especially with Trump now being elected. It has us all a little skittish.

The finance minister has also now been fired.

You see. We were all still trying to stomach Trump winning the US election, when Scholz, in the same fucking evening, fired Lindner.

And not in a polite way. Nah. Olaf fucking Scholz our Chancellor, notorious for saying literally nothing, and with a running joke that he regularly stops existing bc that man Does Not Take Stances, a spine of wet cardboard, delivered this yesterday evening:

(English subtitles by me you already got this far watch it I spent too much time on this lol)

And it is insane alright. For his standards and German politic standards thats the equivalent of calling Lindner a egomaniacal bitch that has only his self interest at heart and can not be trusted.

Lindner and his party have been pulverised in all recent elections. Which means that after he was fired, the FDP completely withdrew from the coalition and all minister from the FDP resigned.

....well all but one who apparently stayed in his positions because he's leaving the FDP over this. What sort of shitty backstabbing kindergarten fight is this. (Jokes aside hes the minister of transportation and says he needs to stay in office in important projects. Which. True. Having minister resigning en mass is not good)

Alright cool cool cool cool. Current situation yesterday is the following:

So. Trump is president. Fuck.

Lindner got fired! Yaaay!

Wait my goverment is now also falling apart! Fuck.

Which all lead to new elections being called in Germany.

Mind you, that's not usual ok. I know other countries have systems where they can call an election whenever but that is not a thing that normally happens here. We have a schedule alright. (Insert obligatory "Germans and their plans and structure" joke)

So new elections are called for spring, nearly a year early. Cool cool cool. With a right wing rising in Germany and deeply unpopular current leadership. On the eve of motherfucking trump getting elected.

Habeck, leader of the green party and one of the few policians in germany I think is vaguely liked by ppl (the general attitude in German politics is less "I like this guy" and more "you are the least shitty choice I guess") has appearently also nearly started crying after the news broke. So. Yeah.

Now. Let's make this shitshow complete,alright?

There is this party. CDU. They had been in charge for a very long time in Germany. Centrist, right leaning, with the afd on the rising even more right leaning than before. Their current leader is Friedrich Merz, as unpleasant as human beings can go.

He has now called for the new election to be not in a few months but like. To be called next week.

In the current climate.

So yeah. if you're German mutuals and friends are currently going through their own stages of grief - this is why.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

Kitty huffs, a rare moment of agitation, and blows it out sharply. She thrusts her hands forward and hurls the string of pearls onto the couch. She curls her fingers in frustration and stares at them, like a puzzle. 

“My goddamn hands won’t stop shaking,” she utters. 

You cross the room to her, wordlessly, and take the necklace. You move behind her to clasp it in place over her collar. She wears a straight cut black dress with no ornament. The pearls are a delicate touch to the otherwise plain outfit. 

“What do you think he wants?” Adrienne finally asks the question none of you dared. 

You look at her helplessly. They can never know you did this. They can’t ever know that the reason they are so scared in that moment is your fault. They might have longed to pull the trigger themselves but actually doing it is different. It’s... irredeemable. 

“He said we’re under his protection,” you say flatly. 

“Oh, come on, you’re the most skeptical of all of us,” Kitty accuses, “you believe that. Daddy was just another soldier.” 

“Maybe but what else are we going to do but obey?” You counter. 

Kitty winces and Adrienne’s eyes bat. Your older sister shakes her head, “you’re not the one to give up.” 

“I am.” You insist. “If it keeps you two safe then I will do whatever needs to be done.” 

They’re silent for a moment as they look from you to each other. They nod. “Us too,” Kitty says. “We have to take care of each other.” 

“Like always,” Adrienne agrees. 

Silence floods the room again. There’s a car waiting outside a few minutes later. You march out in another sombre parade. It’s a different kind of funeral that day. You’re not mourning the past, you’re mourning the future and what could have been and will never be. 

You sit together in the back seat. You hold hands. You never went to many of these ‘business’ gatherings. Outside of a wedding, you weren’t invited. Your father was only invited by the few people who knew him in the outfit. He was only ever the big dog when he barked at his three daughters. 

The car stops, you get out. You squeeze your sisters’ hands before you detach. The man who drove leads you to the immaculate white facade of the grand hall. You’re somewhat confused by the venue but this is not a day for questions. You had your curiosity beat out of you long ago. 

Inside, you’re led to a set of open doors. You enter and another man stands to beckon you further inside. There are bodies all around, all in dark suits, muttering under their breath, coughing, tapping fingers. 

Your eyes skim around cautiously. Barnes sits at the head table. He’s calm and unbothered by the new arrival. He’s indifferent to his men as the one next to him whispers in his ear. Rogers stands behind the boss’ chair as he speaks to him, gripping the elaborate orb that tops the post of the straight-backed seat. 

Barnes’ gaze meets yours only as you and your sisters are put at a table of your own. It feels like some hearing. A court case. Are they hearing the crimes of your father? But he said... 

No questions. There’s nothing the answers can change for you. Adrienne fidgets, wringing her hands restlessly, and Kitty sit so straight it looks like it hurts. None of you look past the table. Your daddy would smack your mouth for your wandering eyes. 

“Alright, now that we’re all here, let’s gut through the bullshit,” Barnes’ voice brings the voice to deathly lull. The men shift their bodies and their focus. The doors close subtly behind the boss’ timbre. “Now, don’t think I brought you here because of a single soldier. You know better. All of you.” 

His voice is stringent but restrained. Still, it’s enough to instill fear. You gulp and dare to look up at him. He stands and puts his hands on the table. 

“First, a crooked accountant. Bald clown messing around. Then I got men going out, coming back short. Then dead.” He snarls. “I don’t care about the small men. With due respect,” he pauses and glances in your direction, “but I know they don’t think for themselves, too. I know it was one of you. This isn’t just chance. 

“One of you popped Warren ‘cause he found you out,” Barnes continues.  

You sense movement like a soft breeze. Rogers edges along the wall, unnoticed. You stare in slow motion as he moves quickly towards another table. 

“And I found you out too,” Barnes hits the table with his fist. “I went through the numbers and I found the fucking thief.” 

You frown. It’s... lies. He told you that day. At the funeral. Your daddy was the thief. Now he’s telling them something different. He used you. It makes a good story. A mysteriously dead soldier, missing money... makes it easy to trim the fat. 

“Milo,” Barnes points and a chair scrapes and teeters.  

Rogers grabs the capo from behind, closing his hands around his neck. He drags him easily, like a rag doll. They aren’t so different in size and yet the blond moves the other easily as he bulls around the table and brings the man to the center of the room. 

“You been pocketing my money.” Barnes stands straight and gestures casually. 

Rogers tosses the other man, Milo, to the floor and kicks him so he sprawls. His assault is methodical. He doesn’t let up. He stomps and batters the man into the polished wood. The noise of cracking bones and breaking cartilage itch in your ears. The accused hacks and chokes on spit and blood. 

Your sisters smother gasps and startled sobs. You’re only mortified by your own indifference. Are you so callous to feel nothing for a man chosen to pay for father’s death? For your actions? You just can’t. You know every man in this room is just like your father was. Cruel. Mean. They deserve it just as much as he did. 

“Enough,” Barnes orders and Rogers steps back, combing his long hair away from his face as he puffs. The man on the floor is a puddle of wheezes. 

“Your houses, your cars, your accounts, all of it, will be turned over to Warren’s daughters. For his good service to me. He died finding you out. He died for the good of the outfit. He smoked out the mole,” Barnes says. “And you orphaned his daughters, just like you meant to do to every man in this room.” 

Silence. Stillness. No one moves. 

“You are all dismissed. On your way out, you make sure to pay your disrespects to that scum,” Barnes growls. “And look at him, hard and long, because the next fucker I catch with his hands in my pockets will be right there with him.” 

There’s a moment before anyone moves. The first man to rise is greying around his temples. He comes out from behind the table and nears the shaking form on the floor. He spits on Milo then sends his pointed leather shoe into the man’s stomach. He marches out without looking back. 

The next man follows suit. Spit, kick, go. One after another the men disburse in the same manner. The noises, ptuah, crack, tap, tap, tap, form a sickly rhythm. You can only sit and watch. 

You reach to your sisters and take their hands again. You glance between them. They look on in horror. They aren’t made for this. Your eyes flit back to the head table and find the king looking over his court. No, he’s looking at you. 

Barnes dips his chin and his eyes gleam. He is the master. No one dares to challenge the narrative he’s written. Whatever he says is all the truth they need to worry about. Same goes for you. 

[hoe4hotchner]

Pieces of the past | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader | WC: 1.2k  | CW: This is very angsty (and kind of triggering to me at least), reminiscing of childhood, centered around the memories you have of a dead relative, specifically your granddad, mentions of a funeral, mention of undisclosed illness. I mention the word church once.| Summary: Looking at old pictures from your childhood, which makes memories resurface, some better than other.

A/N: This is a very personal fic to me, and I wrote it weeks ago when it would've been my grandad's 80th birthday. I hope you guys will take good care of it --> Also the stories told about the grandad in these are half real and half made up for the sake of the story ❤️

You set the heavy grocery bag on the kitchen table with a sigh, the crinkling of paper breaking the stillness of the apartment. You’d just returned from your mom's house, and what was supposed to be a quick stop had quickly turned into a nostalgic trip down memory lane. The bag was filled with old photographs, ones she had kept in the basement - forgotten over time, ones you hadn’t seen in years. Mostly, they were from your childhood, while others were from before you were born - holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, and weddings - but the ones that hit the hardest were the ones of your grandad.

He had passed when you were still young, but the memories you had of him were vivid, and cherished, and every now and then, those memories resurfaced like the pictures you now held in your hands.

You started spreading them across the dinner table, sorting through the faded snapshots, organizing them by event. There was one of you, maybe 3 years old, sitting in a four-wheeled wagon, your grandad pulling you around the garden, both of your faces were lit with massive smiles - You could tell it was winter from your massive red puffer jacket, it looked way too big for a toddler, but it looked warm. Another one had him holding your hand while walking through the park, his old, weathered jacket wrapped tightly around him, you could tell he was already sick there, knowing that not long after that trip, he had passed.

The further you sorted, the heavier the ache in your chest grew. It wasn’t sadness, really - it was more of an emptiness, a longing for those quiet, comfortable moments you could never get back, a longing, wondering how he would've reacted to your life choices, how different life might have looked if he had still been around.

You picked up a photograph that felt heavier than the rest, your breath hitching as you recognized the scene captured within the frame. It was a solemn day, the sky gray as friends and family gathered to pay their respects. Your grandad’s casket, draped in a simple white and wooden veneer, stood surrounded by flowers, red roses to be exact - they were always his favorite - each bloom a testament to the love he had shared throughout his life. In the image, you could see yourself, a small figure in a white dress - it was the same one you would wear when your grandmother remarried 2 years later - holding tightly to your mother’s hand, her fingers trembling in yours. Tears glistened in your eyes as you remembered the heaviness in your heart that day, you were sure you hadn't really understood what was going on around you. The ache of loss was suffocating, knowing he had touched so many lives. You blinked hard, wishing to erase that moment from your mind, but it lingered like a ghost, haunting the edges of your memories.

By the time Hotch returned home, you were sitting in the middle of a sea of photographs, some placed in neat piles, others scattered haphazardly, the memories tangled with your emotions. You didn’t hear the door open or the sound of his briefcase hitting the floor. It wasn’t until you felt his presence that you realized he was home.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, and when you looked up at him, he already knew. He didn’t need to ask.

“Hey,” you murmured back, trying to summon a small smile but failing. Your eyes dropped back to the picture in your hand, a shot of your grandad, dressed in his Sunday best at his 25th wedding anniversary with your grandmother, his kind eyes twinkling with the same warmth you always remembered.

Hotch’s gaze followed yours to the table, his brow furrowing slightly as he took in the scene. He walked over without a word and sat beside you, his presence solid and comforting, even in the silence.

You leaned into him a little, letting your head rest against his shoulder. “I went to mom’s today, and she gave me all of these,” you explained quietly, gesturing toward the photographs. “I wasn’t expecting to… I don’t know, feel this way.”

Hotch slipped an arm around you, grounding you without interrupting your thoughts.

Your thumb brushed the edge of the photo in your hand, the texture familiar, like you had held it a hundred times before. “That’s me and my grandad,” you said softly. “I miss him. He always knew how to make things feel better, you know?”

Hotch nodded, his eyes on the photograph now, though he stayed silent, giving you space to share whatever you needed.

“I remember when this picture was taken. It was a summer afternoon. We’d just come back from the park, and I had scraped my knee running after the dog.” You smiled faintly, the memory so vivid it was almost like stepping back in time. “I was crying so much, and he just scooped me up like it was nothing, sat me on his knee, and blew all the pain away he said. It worked, of course.”

Hotch's thumb traced soft circles on your arm, a quiet comfort that encouraged you to keep going.

You picked up another photo, this one of your grandad during the last Christmas you got to spend with him. “This was the last Christmas, I never knew he was as sick as he was,” you murmured, your voice catching slightly. “He loved hosting everyone, their house was always open, whether it be people from church or his patients at work, always pretending like it wasn’t a big deal, he was so proud of it.”

The lump in your throat grew, but you didn’t stop. You wanted to keep talking, wanted to share these pieces of yourself and your grandad with Hotch.

“He taught me so much, not just the little things, but how to… how to love and care for people. I guess I’ve been thinking a lot about him today. He would’ve liked you a lot, Aaron,” you added, turning your head slightly to glance at him.

Hotch’s eyes softened, his hand resting on your back as he gave you a gentle squeeze. “I would’ve liked to have met him,” he said quietly, his voice was low and soothing.

You nodded, feeling the familiar weight of longing settling in your chest again. But being here, with Hotch beside you, made it a little easier to bear. His quiet understanding, the way he didn’t try to fill the silence with meaningless words to coax you into being happy - it was exactly what you needed.

For the next hour, you kept sorting through the photos, talking when the memories felt too strong to hold back, and simply resting when the words wouldn’t come. Hotch stayed right there with you, listening, holding you, and occasionally picking up a picture to ask about it, his voice always gentle, never rushing or forcing information out of you.

It wasn’t until the last photograph was placed on the table that you finally exhaled, feeling a little lighter, even though the ache was still there. You leaned into Hotch’s warmth, your head on his shoulder again.

“Thank you,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

Hotch pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Always.”

And in that quiet moment, you realized that while you couldn’t go back to those days with your grandad, the love and memories he left behind would always be a part of you - and now, they were something you could share with the person sitting beside you.

[saddleups]

James is just so HUGE and I mean like height and muscle likee..,, can I request something with just him manhandling reader…

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 2k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . request , complete. JAMES SUNDERLAND X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . a slightly possessive james . unprotected p in v . creampie . slightly fluffy ? p_rn w/o a plot !

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . oh totally , he carries himself quietly but we really see the size/strength of him when it matters most ! also love the concept of james being such a loving , attentive partner who takes care of you ;)

If James passed by you in a cramped corner, he delicately placed his hands on your torso to shift your body slightly so he could get through.

Sometimes, if your seat was too far away, he would reach over and pull it closer to him, eager for your proximity.

And then there was that one phrase: "I can take care of it." How many times have you hard that from him?

From a can you couldn't open, to a spider you didn't want to deal with, James always "took care of it."

It was no different in the bedroom, where his confident touch and skilled hands left you breathless and satisfied. Yet there were days when your desire for him burned so intensely, it almost became unbearable. Waiting in anticipation for him to come home, craving the pleasure only he could provide. The routine sex at the end of the week paled in comparison to the moments when your libido was at its peak.

Much like today where you were eager to be taken care of.

The kitchen was a symphony of clinking pots and sizzling pans. The aroma of garlic and rosemary filled the air, mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread. You hummed softly to yourself as you diced tomatoes, your mind buzzing with anticipation. James would be home any minute now, and you had something special planned for him. It had been too long since you two had connected intimately, and you were determined to make tonight unforgettable.

The front door clicked open, and you felt a thrill shoot through you. James’s deep voice carried through the hallway.

"Hey, babe, I'm home." he called out, his footsteps heavy and purposeful.

You turned your head just in time to see his tall, muscular frame fill the doorway. His blonde hair was slightly tousled from the wind, and his eyes sparkled with warmth as they met yours. He was dressed in his usual work attire—a crisp white shirt clinging to his broad shoulders and well-fitted slacks that accentuated his powerful thighs. Your pulse quickened just looking at him.

"Hey, you," you said with a smile, your heart skipping a beat. "How was your day?"

"Long," he replied, stepping closer. "But it got a hell of a lot better when you texted me about this surprise."

He moved into the kitchen, and suddenly, the room seemed much smaller. His presence was commanding, filling every corner with his energy. As he approached, you could feel the heat radiating off his body, a palpable reminder of the raw power that lay beneath his exterior.

"Mmm, something smells amazing," he murmured, his gaze fixed on you.

You couldn’t help but lean against the counter, letting your eyes roam over his form. "Well, I thought we could use a nice dinner together," you said, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

"But I have a feeling it might not be the only thing we end up indulging in tonight."

James chuckled, low and deep. "You always know how to get my attention, don’t you?"

He reached out, his hand curling around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The contact was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His other hand slid up your back, fingers threading through your hair as he tilted your head back, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Missed you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "So damn much."

You melted into him, your hands gripping his shirt as his mouth found the curve of your neck. His kisses were firm yet gentle, each one stoking the fire within you. Your breath hitched as his tongue flicked out, tasting the sensitive flesh just below your ear.

"James," you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "I’ve missed you too."

His hand slipped lower, cupping your ass as he lifted you onto the counter. The sudden shift in altitude surprised you, but you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His erection pressed against your core, a delicious reminder of what was to come.

"Fuck, you drive me wild," he growled, his lips moving back to capture yours in a bruising kiss.

Your mouth opened eagerly, your tongues tangling in a passionate dance. The world outside the kitchen faded away, leaving just the two of you locked in a heated embrace. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of you with possessive intensity. You arched your back, offering yourself to him completely, your nipples hardening under his touch.

"God, you’re so beautiful," he breathed, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down your jawline.

His hand dipped beneath the hem of your shirt, sliding up to cup your breast. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He squeezed gently, his touch both demanding and tender. You moaned, your head falling back as waves of pleasure rolled through you.

"James, please," you whimpered, your hips grinding against him. "I need you."

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression fierce with desire. "Tell me what you want, baby," he commanded, his voice thick with lust.

You bit your lip, your resolve wavering under his intense gaze. "I want you inside me," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I want you to take care of me, James."

His eyes darkened even further, and he let out a ragged groan. Without another word, he reached down, yanking your leggings and panties down in one swift motion. Your breath caught in your throat as you kicked them aside, your pussy throbbing with need.

James didn’t waste any time. He adjusted himself, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance before thrusting forward with one powerful stroke. The sensation was overwhelming, filling you completely as he sheathed himself inside your tight, wet heat.

"Ahh!" you cried out, your nails digging into his back as he began to move.

His rhythm was relentless, each thrust driving deeper and harder than the last. The counter dug into your back, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the way James claimed your body, his strength and dominance pushing you toward the edge.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he muttered, his voice strained with effort. "So fucking tight."

You could barely think, your mind clouded with pleasure. Your hips rose to meet his, desperate for more of his thick, pulsing length. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, your nipples brushing against his chest. The friction sent sparks of sensation coursing through your body, adding fuel to the already raging fire.

"James," you pant, your voice trembling with urgency. "Don’t stop… Please, don’t stop."

He captured your lips again, swallowing your plea as he increased his pace. His hips pistoned against yours, the sound of your flesh meeting echoing in the small space. James's hands grip your hips tightly as he withdraws from your wet, throbbing heat. His breath is hot against your neck, his chest heaving with exertion. The intensity of the moment is palpable, every nerve in your body alive and buzzing with anticipation. You can feel the pulsating warmth of James's erection pressing insistently against your lower belly, still eager and ready despite the relentless pace he set.

"Take care of me, James," you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. "I want you inside me when I come."

James' gaze locks onto yours, as if he's conveying a silent promise. Without a word, he lowers himself, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. The anticpiation makes your breath hitch, your body shivering with need. James pushes in slowly, deliberately, savoring the sensation as he fills you once more. The stretch and pressure are exquisite, sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes," you moan, arching your back to meet his thrust. "Please, James, don't stop."

James's movements are slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to the frenzied pace of earlier. Each glide of his thick shaft inside you feels like pure pleasure, the friction electric against your sensitive nerves. His rhythm is steady, controlled, drawing out the tension that coils tighter and tighter within you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside. The feel of his muscular frame pressed against yours, his hard length buried deep within, sends waves of ecstasy crashing over you. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails tracing patterns on his skin, while his hands roam possessively over your body, molding your curves, seeking out the most sensitive spots.

His thumb brushes against your clit, just a gentle tease, but it's enough to send jolts of pleasure radiating through you. You gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily as you chase the elusive peak. James matches your rhythm, pushing in deeper with each thrust, his cock sliding along your inner walls with delicious precision.

James leans down inviting you into a searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt about his intentions. His tongue delves deep, tangling with yours in a dance of dominance and submission. It’s a claiming, a promise of unyielding devotion. Determined to fulfill the task you gave him, to take care of you. His hand moves from your clit to grasp your hip, angling your body just right to maximize the depth of his thrusts.

"Feels so good," James murmurs against your mouth, his voice rough with desire. "So tight and wet…all for me."

His words fan the flames of your arousal, making your core clench around his invading length. You can feel the pressure building, the tingling coil tightening inside you, growing closer to its breaking point. James senses it too, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate as he strives to bring you both over the edge.

With a sudden, savage thrust, James buries himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing powerfully inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, your vision blurring as the world narrows down to the pulsing connection between you. His fingers return to your clit, this time applying firm, rhythmic pressure, stoking the fire until it becomes a roaring inferno.

"James, I'm—" You can barely form the words, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "I'm so close…"

"Come for me," James orders, his voice a deep growl that resonates through your entire being. "Let go, baby. Let me feel you come around me."

That final push is all it takes. The dam breaks, pleasure erupting in a torrent of cascading waves. Your body convulses, muscles tensing as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy. Your pussy clenches down on James's cock, milking him with each spasm of your orgasm.

James roars in response, his own release imminent. You can feel the telltale signs, the way his cock pulses and thickens inside you. With one last, powerful thrust, he surrenders to his climax, flooding your depths with his hot seed.

"Inside me," you manage to gasp, your voice shaky with residual bliss. "Fill me up, James."

His thrusts become erratic, his control fraying as he spills himself into you, pulse after pulse of warm fluid filling your waiting channel. The sensation of his cum flooding you, mingling with your own juices, brings a fresh wave of pleasure, prolonging your orgasm even further.

James collapses forward, his weight supported by his arms braced on either side of you. His face buries in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. For a few moments, there is only the sound of your combined panting, the quiet hum of satisfaction.

Then, with a lazy smile, he lifts his head to look at you, his eyes gleaming with contentment. "You were amazing," he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your lips.

But before you can respond, before you can even catch your breath, James shifts beneath you, causing a fresh wave of sensation as his softening cock slides out of your well-used pussy. A small trickle of his cum follows, dripping down to pool between your thighs.

"Stay right there," he says, his voice a low purr that sends shivers down your spine.

"I can take care of it."

[nylibrty]

you're an angel and im blessed! ⸝ ⸝ ⸝ b.stewart

「pairing」 breanna stewart x reader

「summary」 the small ways stewie shows her love for you.

「cw」 n/a fluff

「notes」 cutie soft stewie for the heart. hope this can cheer up some peoples day <3

opening the front door of your apartment to see flowers and an array of gifts sitting on your kitchen counter was not the sight you were expecting when you got home tonight. confused, you approached the counter, seeing your favorite flowers sitting in a pretty vase filled with water. a small smile sat on your face when you saw the note tucked perfectly in the middle of the bouquet of flowers. you plucked it out of the flowers and read it.

to my lover,

hi baby! got you some stuff because i am so proud of you, proud of you for being you, proud of you for how strong you are, and proud of you for putting up with me for so long.

and in very breanna fashion, a shitty drawing of an emoji was drawn next to her sentence before continuing the next one. you rolled your eyes and let out a small giggle at it before continuing.

i love you so much, enjoy your gifts and text me when you read this.

love, bre.

you set the note down and moved on to the array of poorly wrapped boxes on your counter, another breanna quirk that always made you smile.

as you opened the different gifts, you fell more and more in love with breanna. she always knew how to make you smile, and always showed her love in the nicest most thoughtful ways.

she always gave you the first bites of her food, without fail every time.

"eat." she would say, pointing the fork with food on it towards your mouth.

you would always gladly take it, appreciating the small gesture. taking the food into your mouth and telling her if it was good or not, no matter what you said, she still scarfed down the entire plate. if you did say it was good, she would always give you more bites, even if you never asked.

she always gave you her jacket, even if she secretly knew that you 'forgot' your jacket on purpose, an excuse to wear hers.

"bre, im cold." you pouted, giving her the puppy dog eyes.

"i told you to bring your jacket, babe." she rolled her eyes as she shrugged her jacket off, giving it to you.

you knew she wasn't actually mad by any means, just teasing you because she did tell you to bring your jacket, every time. but that didn't stop her from giving up her jacket the second you complained.

no matter what it was or when it was, breanna always found small ways to show her love for you.

one of the many things you loved about the girl.

[squinch-depraved]

I LOVE YOUR VIRGINITY AU 😭😭😭😭 its actually so GOOD i cant wait to see what schlatt has to say when he talks to us (please tell me ur making a part 6😭🙏🙏🙏)

this series is so much fun i have so many ideas and apparently y'all do too so keep em comin i love you all

CW: a lil dubcon-y, choking, v rough

ted makes it out and down the street just in time to see schlatt yank open the door to the main building and let it slam behind him

he winces at the thought of what you're in for now that he's gone, remembering the hickey on your neck only when he crosses the street

schlatt, in the meantime, is barging into your apartment, mumbling a half-hearted apology to your roommate as they nervously grab their stuff and leave you two alone

he heads straight down the hallway to your room and just hovers in the entryway, tossing his bags down by the door like ted did

"charlie?" he starts

"i can explain-"

you try to reason with him but he just strides over to the bed in two large steps and climbs so he's leaning over you, staring down at you with a dark, vacant expression

"of course you're going to explain. you're gonna tell me all about it while i..." his voice trails off as he notices the bruise on the side of your throat

"what the fuck is this?"

he sounds different, like it caught him off guard

"that's not... that's not charlie. his hickeys are older. that looks like it just fucking happened. are you kidding me?"

"schlatt, i told you we aren't exclusive."

"i'm not mad you fucked someone else!!" he exclaims, almost in disbelief

"i'm mad you fucked one of my best friends."

you make a face and he narrows his eyes for a second

"...who gave you that, on your neck?"

unable to meet his gaze, you turn away and try to find the right words

"why are you acting so strange? do i know him?"

"schlatt..."

"what?"

he sets his jaw and gently takes one of your wrists in each of his hands, bringing them to either side of your head and pinning you down

"s-schlatt, listen, i don't want it to cause problems between you two," you stammer

his grip tightens as he realizes the only other person it could be

scanning your face to see if your remorse is genuine, he swallows hard and grins a hollow, hopeless smile

"you fucked ted, didn't you?"

his words paralyze you; the only movement in the room is the rapid rising and falling of your chest

"i'm so sorry," you begin once you can finally talk again

a deep sigh escapes him, and he shakes his head slightly as he looks away

"you fucking whore."

helpless to stop the strangled moan that falls from your lips, you shift uncomfortably on the bed

schlatt moves from his position on your side, leering down at you, to one on top of you, holding you down even more forcefully now

"i should've known. i shouldn't've told them how good you were if i wanted to keep you all to myself. fuck," he mutters, more to himself than anything

"i'm not some toy for you to-"

"shut the fuck up!! right now, you absolutely are a toy. can't believe you're that much of a fucking slut."

"schlatt!!"

"i said shut up!" he snarls

"was he better than me? i know charlie wasn't; there's no shot he fucks good."

he switches to holding both of your wrists in one hand above your head and grips your face with the other, squishing your cheeks and eliciting a small moan from you

"i'm only gonna ask you one more time. was he better than me?"

his voice is cold, and it send chills down your spine

"he was- it was different!! it was just different, schlatt, please, you know i don't like to compare," you babble in an attempt to satiate him

but it's not enough

he lets out a low chuckle and, in a flash, his hand is wrapped around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter every second

"you're dumber than i thought," he muses, tilting his head as he enjoys the way your eyes roll back into your head, fluttering open and closed rapidly

a frantic, garbled grunt from you convinces him to release you, and he shakes out his hand after he does

he pulls off the clothes you barely managed to put on in time after ted left and wastes no time shoving two fingers into you

when you let out a wail and arch your back, he just shoves you back down by your hips and begins pumping them in and out at a merciless pace (this is for his pleasure, not yours, remember?)

"fuck!!! please, schlatt, stop," you beg

but he doesn't listen

just flicks his eyes up to your face and then shoves his head between your thighs

he's cruel with his tongue, swirling and circling and flicking at your clit endlessly

no amount of screaming his name changes his behavior, he just keeps eating you

occasionally he pulls away to look at the mess he's made of your cunt, sloppy and covered in both your juices and his saliva

he always returns to his feasting after delivering a harsh smack to your pussy

it goes on for almost an hour; your bedsheets are completely ruined by the time he pulls away, chest heaving, and wipes his mouth

you can't even speak, your throat is sore from pleading with him to stop. you gave up after the third orgasm

schlatt doesn't even say anything, just pulls his shirt over his head (giving you flashbacks to ted) and tears his pants and boxers off

you watch wearily as he hikes your legs over his shoulders and shoves himself into you

it would've hurt if you weren't absolutely soaked

immediately, he establishes a brutal pace, and you swear you can feel him brushing your cervix with every thrust

it's slightly painful, but you swear nothing has ever felt so good

he's got you bent nearly in half, watching your expressions as you sob silently from the bliss he's giving you

"bet he didn't feel this good."

he smirks almost imperceptibly when you shake your head vigorously, finally admitting what he wanted to hear

"yeah? bet he couldn't fuck you like i do. bet he wasn't able to reach this- fuck- deep inside you, huh?"

a raspy squeal escapes you, voice breaking from desperation

"got you so fucked out you can't even talk. just layin' there cryin'. do you know how pathetic you are? made your way around the whole friend group. are you fuckin' happy with yourself? you satisfied yet?"

he punctuates each question with a slam deeper into you than the last, gritting his teeth and hanging his head once he finishes speaking

"i'm gonna fucking cum in you. and you're gonna take it. do you understand?" he growls

nodding frantically, your walls clench around him, and he groans and somehow quickens his pace, jackhammering into you so hard and fast that you can't help but scream his name over and over, despite how badly your throat hurts

he's very vocal towards the end, moaning and grunting desperately as he pumps his hips forward a few final times before completely sinking into you as he releases

after a bit, he pulls out and lets your legs drop, noticing how shaky they are and patting one knee softly

"c'mon. i'll help you to the bathroom. but after that we need to actually have a conversation; i'm sorry i lost it like that."

dazed, you nod, and he helps you take a shower

as the hot water streams down the both of you, schlatt holding you up while he washes you off, he presses a kiss to the top of your head

"i don't... i don't want you to think i didn't enjoy sleeping with charlie and ted," you mumble dreamily

he falters for a second but continues cleaning you off

"i like you a lot, schlatt, but i'm into the two of them as well. i want you to be okay with that."

he lets out a deep exhale as he turns off the water, then steps out of the shower and helps you dry off

"i'd have to talk to them. we'll see, i dunno. can we just... spend the rest of the day together and talk about this tomorrow?"

a soft smile appears on your face and you nod, pulling him down to kiss you

"c'mon, help me get to bed. i can barely stand up."

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Mystery of love

Previously / Next chapter

a/n thank you for reading peeps! It really means a lot to me. I love writing this story so much, oddly I find so much comfort in it. 🫧

summary: when two lost souls meet at their mutual friend’s party sparks fly, the question is if whatever they feel can actually bloom into something more? But that’s the mystery of love.

warning: none?, burnout

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Noah barely slept that night. You had cried in his arms till the first blips of sun snuck through the open window. Neither of you had paid it any attention last night and now Noah was blinded by the light stealing those precious couple of hours of sleep he could have gotten. It felt foreign to him at first. Yes, he had partners before but he couldn’t recall holding them while they cried. It was mostly slamming doors and half-hearted apologies. This felt so raw. As you quivered in his embrace. Clinging to him as if he was your only lifeline. He hoped that you couldn’t feel his heart hammering because he was clueless. Suddenly aware that he didn’t know what it meant to actually comfort someone. Someone you truly cared for.

When you had finally rung yourself out, falling asleep with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, Noah had just wrapped his arms even tighter around you. Nuzzling his face against the side of your head. He breathed in the scent of your shampoo. Letting the familiar scent lull him. He thought he could find peace then but every single twitch of your body had his eyes shooting open. Every sound in the corridor outside the apartment complex made his muscles tense. You were scared that were your own words. But of what? That night events? Your ex in general?

Noah wondered how much of your darkness matched his. How many demons did you battle on a daily? And was it because of them that Noah felt this pull to you? As if your souls had met prior and now after recognizing one another, refused to get lost again. So Noah drifted in and out of sleep. With either you or his mind-drawn nightmares pulling him back into consciousness.

Even if his body was exhausted there was something so special about feeling your body's warmth against his chest. So much different to the empty and cold bed that he was used to. You had shifted in your sleep, turning to your side. Noah’s he had no choice but to turn with you, spooning you as you slept. Your intertwined hands resting against the plush sheets and something fluffy… Noah lifted his head to find Marsh curled in a ball on top of your interlocked palms.

A slight smile spread onto Noah’s face as he moved his thumb up and down to scratch the fuzzy belly, causing the cat to sprawl out in satisfaction. He wanted to freeze moments like this. They were so rare and fragile that Noah was afraid to take a deeper breath, in case of disturbing the peace. Of chasing the blissful feeling away. But the bubble got busted as his phone rang, through the quiet space.

Cursing under his breath Noah reached back, trying to find the phone, digging through the sheets, only to be met with your slightly open eyes, glancing at him, “Go back to sleep”, he muttered, brushing his palm over his forehead as he sat up, climbing out of bed.

“Hello”, his tone was slightly breathless as he closed the door to your bedroom moments later. “Noah the meeting starts in 30min”, Jolly’s voice, an unimpressed one, greeted him on the other side. “Shit”, Noah grunted, rubbing a hand over his face. He had forgotten all about it. “Shit indeed”, Jolly sighed, Noah knew that he wasn’t angry with him. The whole situation was fucked and quite frankly he hadn’t made it easy for everyone. “Do you want me to cancel?”, Jolly asked, “Cause…”, “Postpone it or give them my phone I’ll talk to them”, Noah pleaded, pinching the bridge of his nose. A slight sound of the door opening made him turn back. “Go”, you muttered, tired face looking up at him. “No”, Noah shook his head. “Just give them my phone, Jolly, I’ll talk with them and… I’ll come by the studio today. We’ll finalize it all”, he promised. There was a brief pause before Jolly sighed again, “Matt will send you the contact info”. Noah nodded even if Jolly couldn’t see him, eyes locking with you as you watched him.

It felt as if someone had hit you on the back of your head but you guessed that’s what crying for hours would do to a person. You didn’t remember the last time you cried like this. Let alone cry in front of someone else. But no matter how much you had wanted to push Noah away, you couldn’t seem to find the strength to do it last night. So now you anxiously stirred your tea as you listened to him arguing over the phone. You had only exchanged brief words before you had let him go into the bedroom to take the call. He had missed a meeting because he was here. You were already messing up his life. You had grown to be a burden…

Your thoughts got cut off by Noah letting out a frustrated growl, before no doubt throwing his phone onto the bed. You pressed Marsh closer to your chest, giving his head heaps of kisses, before the door swung open. “That sounded intense”, you muse watching as Noah stepped into the kitchen, shaking his head. “The tour cancelation goes live on Friday but…”, he huffed throwing his head back with a sigh. “But”, you urged, letting Marsh sit on the stool on the other side, leaning against the table. “They want us to do one last show so I could make sure that I’m incapable of continuing the tour”, Noah flexed his jaw, wrapping his arms around himself. “That’s bullshit”, you grunted. “We have contractual obligations”, he explained, pressing his fingers to his temples. “It’s your health we’re talking about”, you argued back, stepping closer to him, fingers reaching for his tensed shoulders as you let your hands work the knots. “I can do one more show”, Noah sighed, hands reaching out for your waist as he spread his legs so you can stand in between them, “I just know that it will be bad vocally…”, it didn’t take a genius to hear the anxiety in his voice. And the fact that something he loved was now causing him so much distress made your heart ache.

“Okay”, you muttered, reaching up to hook a finger beneath his chin, turning his face up to meet yours, “We’ll do that show and then prioritize you. Get you back onto your feet”, you stated firmly with a slight nod. You would deliver proper meals to him yourself if you had to, force him to lay in bed. “I should be looking after you this morning”, Noah sighed, pressing his head into your stomach before pulling back up to look at you. “You shouldn’t, I’m fine”, you shook your head, “you on the other hand…”, letting your words trail off you just looked at him for a moment. “I thought I looked handsome”, Noah wiggled his eyebrows, making you smile slightly, “You would, if you took care of yourself”, you mused threading your fingers through his hair. Noah chuckled slightly before clearing his throat, “How are you?”, you knew that just like the last time he was choosing to acknowledge the inevitable. You appreciated it but the thought of being in the same vulnerable position made your bones quiver. “Thank you for staying”, you muttered instead, squeezing his hands. “If you can’t tell I’m hard to get rid of”, Noah shrugged, reaching out to push a strand of hair away from your face. “Guess we have some things in common after all”, you mused, before turning away from him to grab Noah a cup of his own.

You had barely found time to eat or for a matter of fact human, over the next few days. Work was a good distraction that you welcomed with open arms. With Friday’s concert approaching Noah had grown distant too. And for the first time longer gaps between his replies had filled your stomach with dread. You knew he was busy and quite frankly you were glad that he was putting all of his focus into the show ahead.

Matt forwarded you an email with a pass to the backrooms. One you had quickly refused to take. That was Noah’s world. Interlinking them would make it real. Whatever was brewing between you both would get real. Because you had spent quite some time thinking of how his arms felt wrapped around your body. The fact that the smell of him lingered in your bed. Or that you had slept hugging the pillow he slept on just to bring yourself some comfort.

“You’re not listening”, Dolores's voice made you blink a couple of times. “I wasn’t, I’m sorry”, you shook your head, turning to the next list of new arrivals. “No boy in a black car?”, she put her walking stick to the side, gesturing towards the window. “No, he’s busy”, you chuckled softly, “But I’ll send your best wishes to him”, you mused, throwing her a smile. “As if he wants wishes from me”, she scoffed, “You’ve been leaving in his car ever since though”, her words made you halt.

“Are you spying on me, Dolores?”, you teased her. “No, I just have good glasses and a window to the street”, she shrugged, making you shake your head. She watched you for a moment as if contemplating her next words, “You got your spark back”, Dolores clasped her hands together, “He’s a good influence on you”, “Ma’am your free pass on keeping me company doesn’t come with an insight into my love life”, you pointed out, turning to reach for the next box. “I never referred to it as a love life, you said it yourself, hun”, a mischievous smile spread across her face as if she had just caught you red-handed.

Your phone pinged something that also never happened because you always kept it on silent. But since you haven’t heard from Noah since last night you had left the sound on.

Noah: Thinking of you. This shit sucks.

Your heart both fluttered and broke as you read the message.

Y/N 🤍: Dolores says hi. You got this.

You quickly typed out. Smiling at the sight of the three bubbles pending.

Noah: are you ignoring the fact that I miss you?

Y/N 🤍: nope…

Noah: good, I’ll miss us for both of us.

Throwing your head back you tried to fight your smile. “Love life it seems to be”, Dolores mused making you shake your head, “I won’t admit to any of it”, “You don’t have to, darling, it shows”, reaching over the counter, Dolores squeezed your hand, before returning to look out the window.

Noah was slowly sinking again. The noises were too loud. His clothes made him feel as if he was suffocating. Not to mention the mask that seemed to suck all the oxygen out. It was a crippling feeling. Watching the rest of the band being solid and ready to go and him barely dragging along.

“How are you holding up?”, Nick slapped Noah’s shoulder. Noah slowly lifted his head. “I’m fine”, he muttered, knowing full well that they all saw through him. He wasn’t an easy person to be around lately. But he just couldn’t do it anymore. “Are we going through with this or are we opting out?”, Matt asked also stepping into the room. “We’re here aren’t we?”, Noah bit back, throwing his head back.

“We can opt-out, make this the time we announce the cancellation”, Matt reasoned but Noah knew that he couldn’t. With fans already standing by the stage. Singing bits of their songs. Standing outside the stadium all night to see them. Robbing them of this felt low. Even if he doubted that they would thank him for his lackluster performance.

Matt let out a sigh, “I’m pulling my last card out, after this I have nothing to offer”, he stated, stepping out of the room. Noah frowned slightly, trying to understand what exactly he meant before the doors swung back open and it felt as if someone directly forced a handful of air into his lungs. He met your eyes across the room. Before his gaze fell onto the bad omens shirt you had on. “Don’t get used to this, I was forced into it”, you grunted, pinching the black material. And for the first time in days a genuine smile spread across Noah’s lips, “Might take a picture to remember this moment”, he mused, watching as you waved to the rest of his team, introducing yourself to people you hadn’t yet met. “Use force to make him reasonable”, Matt muttered, squeezing your shoulder, you simply tapped onto his chest before he motioned for everyone else to leave. You just stood there, right by the door as everyone walked out. Eyes on Noah the whole time.

Only when the doors clicked shut did you step forward, erasing the distance between you two. “I wasn’t expecting you here”, he muttered, hands instantly reaching for your waist, something he found himself doing often as of late. “Yeah, since you didn’t invite me”, you teased. “I don’t want you to see a mediocre show and form an opinion about me”, Noah shrugged.

“No self-degradation, I do enough of that for both of us”, you pinched his chin between your fingers, pulling his head up, “I’m failing people, Y/n”, Noah grunted pulling away. “No, you’re failing yourself but that’s a topic for another day”, you sighed, “I’m not here to argue”. “I’m sorry”, Noah sighed, pulling you closer, head hanging low. Your fingers once again brushed through his silky hair as you offered him the same thing he had offered you. Silence. Silence to be filled with thoughts nagging. To reach out.

“I’m just so tired. I don’t feel alive some days”, he admitted with a shake of his head, “I want to do so much but fuck… sometimes getting out of bed is a task itself”. You could see it too. He was like a functioning addict. Slowly breaking down but still slipping through others' eyes. “You need to stop before your body shuts off, Noah”, you urged him, cupping his face. He instantly turned his head to the side kissing the inside of your palm. “Can you wait for me here?”, he asked, voice so small, you had to bite the inside of your cheek. “I’ll be right here”, you promised, leaning in to press your forehead against his.

“I’m so fucking happy that we met in that awful party”, Noah sighed, making you chuckle, “I’m not too keen that you stole Dolores’s heart, however”. Noah snorted, shaking his head, “Don’t be jealous, everyone in your life seems to love me”. “Now you’re just being full of yourself”, you rolled your eyes but deep down felt this wave of relief watching him slowly coming to life. “Ask Marsh, he’s also on my side”, Noah shrugged. “Stealing my cat is a low blow, Sebastian”, you jabbed a finger into his chest, meeting his eyes, that seemed to have gone alive the same way yours did when you two were together. “I intend to steal more than just your cat”, Noah muttered, sending a shiver down your spine. “Not looking for a boyfriend remember?”, you pointed out, “Yeah, and I’m still not offering to be one… yet”, he shrugged.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@broken0mens @supersquirrel1996 @lma1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @private-vampire @mayaslifeinabox

[vulpixisananimal]

<Null> {Mal Du Pays} [Loop] (Siffrin) (Wren belongs to @fungal--wastes)

(You were looking out the window of your room down to the small courtyard next to the inn. Ramos, Isabeau, Vixul, and Mirabelle had all teamed up to do some training together. It was amazing to watch them all work. They'd paired up to practice with each others weapons. Mirabelle and Vixul, Isabeau and Ramos.)

(Isabeau you knew, big defender that he is. It was hard to take your eyes from him, with how he moved, how he was able to take hits like brick, with how he was smiling the whole time. So confident, strong, he didn't even need a weapon.)

(Ramos you were still learning, but they were fast and strong, like a middle ground between you and Isa. They could get in fast, hurt hard, then stand their ground. Tonfas suited them. The vest and bandana made sense too, like some, cool bandit look, or. . . You shake your head.)

(Mirabelle had been working to get better ever since your fight with Perci. She was always quick on her feet, and was able to sting. She often reacted to things far before her more ration brain caught up; which lead to many accidental bruises.)

(And Vixul, she was fast too, and nimble. She used a spear and knew how to get in and get out quickly. Although, she eventually swapped from spear to a pair of. . . What looked like gauntlets with armor that extended up the forarms. She fought differently, now, more defensive. You'll have to think about that.)

(There's a knock on the door. You sigh, and get up. You're supposed to be resting, but you couldn't sleep. Maybe it was Bonnie coming to nag you about rest again. You go over and open the door.)

". . . Afternoon, Siffrin." (Wren was standing at the door, expression unchanging, as usual.) "May I come in?"

"Uh. . ." (Well this is a surprise.) "Sure?"

"Thank you."

(You turn, walk to your bed, and sit down.) "Haha, sorry it's a mess, don't exactly have the energy to-"

(You were cut off by Wren closing the door, and locking it.)

(You continue.) ". . . Toooo clean up the place, y'know?

"Quite." (He walked over to the small table and chair the room had and placed his book on the table.) "Can we just skip past the small talk, Siffrin?"

". . ." (Oh this was turning from worrying to potentially dangerous. Where did you put your dagger again?) "Uuuuh, oookaaay?"

"Good." (He tilts his head slightly to you, his eyes stabbing directly into your soul.) "You made a wish to be able to turn back time, no? And it was most likely made when you were about to face the King?"

(You can't cover your shock fast enough. He smiles, and continues.) "It was, wasn't it?"

". . . . . H-how-"

"You knew exactly where to find our antagonists. You know things you shouldn't about myself and my companions. You knew Polaris was effected by mind craft before I or Vixul did and exactly what to do about it. And you had a level of craft exhaustion that should have by all rights killed you."

(He continues.) "What's more, I did some digging. Did you hear news of that strange sadness in Jouvente? It was at the same time you saviors were all visiting. I overheard that you and Ramos used to be enemies, Ramos can use mind craft, and that you had craft exhaustion back then, too."

"But, that's-"

(He cuts you off.) "Do you know how many traps are in the that House of Change? Or about how overrun by sadness it was? And from what I hear you ran through it all by yourself. And should I even mention the rumors of a shade stained sky?"

". . ."

"And." (He turns to face you fully.) "I listened in on your 'Former Saviors of Vaugarde' team meeting."

(. . . . . . . . What.)

(Wren just walked into your room and tore down your veil of secrets with one swing. He tore it down, ripped it to shreds, and tossed the remains in a fire. You couldn't be mad, confused, or scared; that would come later. Because right now you were just impressed.)

(You fall back on the bed.) ". . . Yeah. It was the day before we fought the King, too."

"Close, then. And everything else?"

"Dead on." (You sigh.) "I spent 20-odd loops in Jouvente trying to deal with Ramos."

"And here?"

"23? 24? Most of those happened in quick succession. That's what really causes the craft exhaustion." (You rub your head.) "It's like, the body needs to recharge, or, something."

"And when you fought the King?"

". . . . 176." (You sit up again.) "Repeating the same two days over, and over, and over again, for almost a year."

". . ." (You look up, Wren was writing in his book.) ". . . Don't worry, this stays between us."

"It had better." (You look away.) ". . . How do you know about wish craft, anyway."

"I learned about it when traveling with Vixul and Polaris."

(A lie.) "No you didn't."

". . . No, I didn't." (He sighs.) "It doesn't matter. What did you wish for?"

"I think it does matter, Wren." (You cross your arms.) "Wish craft isn't just, something you can pick up any regular old book on and learn about. At least not without a big headache."

(Wren was staring at the pages of his book, like he was burning the pages with his mind.) ". . . . What. Did. You. Wish. For."

". . . Wren-?"

"How did you do it." (He cuts you off again, pen pressed to the page.) "What method did you use?"

"I'm not-"

"How far back can you go?" (His voice wavers.) "How. Far."

"W-wren-"

(His pen snaps in two. There's a silence.)

". . . . . . . ."

". . . . . . . ." (You tuck your legs under your cloak, and look away.)

". . . . . . . I need to know." (He didn't look at you.) "Please."

". . . I, Wren. . . I, I can't tell you. I-it's complicated-"

"I have all day, Siffrin." (His expression, you knew that expression.)

(It's the expression of someone trying with all their might to hold back tears. You knew that expression, because you had seen a picture of yourself with that same expression dozens of times.)

(Okay, you breathe in, and out.) "I can't tell you, because, because it put me through hell. And, and I don't want that to happen to you."

"Try me."

(Is this guy serious?) "Didn't you hear me?!? 176 loops, 352 days, all trying to escape a nightmare where nothing ever changed!!!" (You look away again.) "Whatever you're thinking, it, are, you sure it's worth-"

"I'd loop 300 times." (There's not even a second of hesitation.) "No, I'd do 500. 1,000. Maybe even more. It would be worth it."

(You snap back to him.) "I- you don't, really believe-"

"I do." (His voice is steady.) "I mean every single word, Siffrin."

(. . . . Oh.)

". . ." (He wasn't just serious, he was determined, desperate, begging. There, there was no way out of this was there. J-just, just, keep talking.) ". . . . What's worth it, Wren."

(There is a very, very long silence.)

". . . . . . . . His name was Icarus."

(It's as if you could hear a pin drop.)

(He continued.) "He, he was someone very important to me. . . No, not that. He was the only thing important to me. Every day I would get out of bed because of him. I would endure the world because of him. I would look forward to the nights because of him."

"I would have given him the world, if he asked." (His voice cracks. You see a tear on his cheek.) "If it, if it wasn't for him I would have taken a knife to my throat a long, long time ago."

". . . ." (You had to ask.) "What happened?"

". . . . I, I-I don't know." (He hangs his head down.) "He, h-he's dead, or dying, or somewhere in between it's, I, I can't explain it. And I don't know if I can save him, or if it's too late or if I never could and I'm just wasting my time but I have to try!"

"I have to try."

"I have to try."

". . . . . ."

"Because if I don't try, then he's, he's. . ."

". . . . . . . . . . . ."

(. . . . How could you even respond to that. You couldn't look. It would just, just make you start crying as well.)

[. . . Stardust?]

(Loop? Where have you been-)

[Let me talk to him.]

(. . . O-okay. You close your eye and lean back. You breathe in. . . .)

[. . . .]

[. . . And out. . . . You hold your head in your hand, dizzy. Really dizzy. You wait a second for it to pass, then talk.] ". . . Wren?"

"Siffrin?" (He responds.)

"Close, but no~"

"Right." (He looks at you slightly, eyes dark from tears.) ". . . Loop? Is that the name?"

"Bingo." [You respond, you want to joke around, but your heart isn't in it.]

". . ." [He turns back to the book.] "Here to talk to me?"

"Yes yes, I am." [You roll your eye. You hop back fully on the bed and lay down.] "I'm here to tell you how to make a wish!"

[He looked up suspiciously.] ". . . You are?"

"Yes~" [You put a finger to your chin.] "I'm going to tell you. And I'm going to tell you aaaaaall the details that Siffrin left out~ You're lucky, you know. Not even our good companions know this, so you had better not tell them."

". . . My lips are sealed."

"Good!" [You pause for a second, smiling. Where you really about to tell a stranger this? Yes, you were. What better a place to hide secrets than in another desperate traveler.]

"I made a wish the day before we fought the King to stay with my family. I didn't know that was my wish, just how I did it. I took a leaf that represented me, and whispered my wish into it three times, closed it, and tied it to the tree. And all of a sudden I was in a time loop! And no~ This is very differen't than Stardust- Siffrins experience."

"I had no-one. I was alone in trying to escape it. I was stuck. I battled my way through that house hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times." [You continue to smile. Fake. (You knew how to smile. You knew how to fake it.)] "I beat the King. Once."

[(That Desperate one is looking at you, no doubt his mind at work. He was trying to decypher you. He was trying to tell just what was going on with that messed up little head of yours. Oh he was so, SO clever wasn't he!!)]

[(You continue.)] "One time. Once. Out of thousands, and it cost everything. And even after all that, I was still forced back to try it aaaaaall over again~"

"So I gave up! I gave it all up! I cried, pleaded, begged to the Universe for someone ANYONE to help! And do you know what the Universe did? It gave me exactly what I wished for."

[(Your smile wasn't normal.)] "Next thing I knew I woke up at the foot of that favor tree, a new lightless body of stars and a head as bright as the sun. I was unrecognisiable. Not even to myself~"

[(The Desperates eyes widen, you grinn.)] "Figured it out, haven't you~?"

[(There's a pause, he looks you over, your demeanor, your voice, evereything.)] ". . . You're not a normal alter. You are Siffrin."

"Correct~ Aaaand~?"

". . . You, became a sort of guide, for, a new Siffrin?"

"Correct!!" [(You clap your hands together.)] "Stardust didn't recognise me, no one recognised me. I had a lovely new job as the stagehand for my wonderful replacement actor! Forced to guide him untill the very end~ Oh and I do mean forced. I had to teach them how to kill themself because they asked."

"And now as one last cruel joke, with it all over, the Universe took me and stuck me in their blinding body. Forced to watch their happy ending."

"So! Wren, does that sound worth it to you?"

[There is a long, long, long silence. So long that the sound of your friends sparing outside stopped as they finished. You eventually hear Wren let out a breath.]

[He taps a finger on his book and talked quietly.] ". . . You make. . . A compelling argument, but. . ."

"Buuuuuuut~?"

". . . . ." [There was hesitation.] "I, I can't falter now."

[In too deep.]

". . . I understand." [You stand up.] "That's why I'm going to tell you how."

[You walk over to Wren and drag a chair over to sit next to him, you got a new pen, and you got to work.]

[You tell him about wishes, you tell him about home, and how you repeated wishes three, six, seven, or thirteen times. You told him about how whatever you wished for, you had to believe it. And what you wish for might not be what you think you're wishing for.]

[And you warn him every step of the way.]

[It was like you were writing a script. If one thing was out of place, out of line, then the whole play would collapse. You couldn't stop him, you knew that, but this was the next best thing.]

". . . And one last thing."

"Hmm?" [Wren was finishing writing the last of his notes.]

". . . If you decide to go through with this." [You look away.] ". . . Tell those close to you, about everything."

[He pauses, and glances up.]

[You continue.] ". . . It would have, saved me a lot of time."

[He looks at you a moment, then he lets his face relax and smile just a little.] "I promise."

"Thank you." [You get up and stretch.] "If you're looking for more information, go to the Dormont House of Change."

"I imagine you are very familiar?"

"Down to the brick~" [You collapse face down onto the bed.] "Now get out of here, I'm tired."

"Well since you asked so nicely." [He gathers his things, pauses a moment, and goes to leave.]

". . . Wren."

[He pauses.] ". . . Yes?"

". . . . ." [You turn your face away.] "Please, don't make the same mistakes I did."

[There's a pause.] ". . . I'll, do my best. Thank you, Loop."

"Save it." [You hold up a finger.] "Save it for when, for when you don't end up like me."

[unoislazy]

Sneak Peak?

(Arthur Morgan x reader)

Because it’s been so long since I’ve written I feel like I’ve lost my touch a bit. I’m gonna leave a snippet of something I’ve written so far and I would like to know how you guys feel about it!!

Context: Childhood friends to lovers

“I’m in a lot of trouble right now.” He said, nearly out of breath as he grabbed your hand desperately. You stared at him for a moment, trying to process what he was saying as you tried to string together a proper sentence.

“You’ll be alright, right? You always make it out okay.” You said optimistically. The boy in-front of you gave you a charming smile. He had just shown up on your doorstep, which was no different than normal but this time he was winded and bleeding… Your concern was evident through the farrowing of your eyebrows and the worry in your eyes, but you dared not voice them, not now.

“You know I do, but… I don’t think we can stay here for much longer.” He replied, looking back over his back as if he was being watched. You too looked over his back trying to see if you could make out any figures in the area behind him, but to you there was not a soul in sight.

“We?” You asked, taken aback. It was almost as if you had only then processed his words as you took your attention off the empty area of dirt and leaves behind the boy and turned to once again meet his striking blue eyes.

“Me and the gang, we got into some issues with the law and I only have a few hours before I have to go.” He explained. You knew this was going to happen eventually, but even so you still didn’t feel as if you prepared yourself well enough for this day to come.

“Before you leave… I want you to take this.” You quickly grabbed a letter that you had stored in your drawer, in preparation for this day. “I don’t want you to open it until you’re gone, okay?” To that, the boy nodded.

“I promise you I’ll come back to you.”

And with a swift kiss on the forehead, and longing goodbyes, he was gone. That was the last you had seen or heard of the boy named “Arthur Morgan” for quite some time.

Many years had passed at this point and whilst you had never forgotten that boy, you had a strong feeling he had forgotten about you. Or worse.

But it was no concern of yours now, you were grown now. There was no point in delving into the “what ifs” of your childish fantasy. You still lived in the same old house, living a quiet life. A boring yet decent one, you didn’t know why you stayed. You had everything you’d need to leave and lead a more eventful life.

However, deep down you knew why you stayed.

You stayed for him.

On the off chance that that boy would find his way back to you. That he would come back and keep the promise he made to you all those years ago. But the other side of you knew, that was never gonna happen.

Your internal argument continued until you heard a knock on your door.

You brushed off your hands from the residue left over from whatever task you had found yourself partaking in before turning to get the door. You didn’t often get visitors but when you did it was usually just one of your neighbors or a family friend coming to check up on you. So with that expectation in mind, you walked towards the door and grabbed the handle with confidence, twisting and yanking it open with ease while saying your greetings to who you thought would be,

“Mrs. Baker I told you last time, I don’t need any more b-”

You cut your sentence short as your eyes quickly landed upon, not the older woman you expected, but a younger man. He was quite tall and he looked to be about your age, and despite his rough appearance he stood on your porch as awkwardly as a school boy in the front of a class.

“Oh, I’m sorry I thought you were someone else, how can I help you?” You asked, deciding it was best to find out what this man was here for. Upon further inspection, you realized there was a strange nostalgic quality to his face. You couldn’t quite place it before but it felt as if you had seen this man once before.

“I.. uh…” The man started, before he quickly turned towards his satchel and began to dig through it. It didn’t take long for him to grab a thin envelope out and display it. It was clearly opened but a name was visible on the front. “Is there anyone here by this name?” He asked.

You curiously looked towards the envelope and noticed…

It was your name.

Your eyebrows scrunched as you looked from the envelope to the man holding it once again. Why would this man be asking for you…?

It was then you took a closer look at him, he was quite tan, his hair was a gorgeous brown and his eyes…

His eyes

“Arthur…?” You whispered. It couldn’t be.

“How do you know my…” The man before her looked at her with a puzzled look before it quickly clicked with him. How could he not recognize you? Sure it had been several years since he had been back but he prided himself on being able to memorize your features.

Unfortunately the memory betrays one no matter how hard they try to defy it.

[narukoibito]

If you’re up for it - i'm not used to seeing you with clothes on.

Harry had no desire to attend yet another Ministry function, but the tone in Robards' voice made it abundantly clear that if he skipped tonight's he would be suffering desk duty so long that he wouldn't even remember what being in the field was like.

But that didn't mean Harry had to actively participate. Which basically resulted in him sulking in the background along the wall, using those stealth skills the Aurors had trained him so diligently on to avoid small talk and intrusive pawing by one of the desperate singles. He shook off Sirius's talks about his lack of social skills (whose fault was that when he had only ever been homeschooled and hidden away until it was time to fulfill a fucked up fate).

Letting his guard down momentarily, he closed his eyes, letting his mind drift back to a few nights again. He'd learned far too early (finding the hidden stash of fan mail) that being the Boy Who Lived meant there would be no shortage of willing participants. He wasn't one for intimacy (Sirius gave him a hard enough time about it), but that didn't mean he didn't have needs. With a good amount of lubrication and a fair dash of loneliness, he found himself at a bar known for discretion.

That was all fine and dandy.

What he hadn't expected was how much that night stuck with him.

Strange enough, she'd been funny. Her quips making his lips twitch in an unfamiliar way. It had been surprisingly easy when they slipped into one of the many rooms upstairs.

A burning ache rose within him. The door had shut, and he had reached out for her, that reckless smirk, the way her eyelashes fluttered at his touch. Hand wound in silky hair. He swore he could still taste her—

His eyes snapped open at the sound of giggling and heels to his right. Shite, the unfortunate owner of said noise was Romilda Vane, the new secretary in the office who would not relent on her advances, no matter how bluntly Harry avoided them.

He ducked to his left, weaving through the crowd. It'd been an hour, and Robards couldn't say he hadn't shown his face.

Harry turned the corner.

"Oof!"

The wind was knocked out of him by some blur of gold and red.

"Sorry," he said, hands automatically reaching out to steady the blur. He was already taking another step toward the exit when a stray glance had him breathless for an entirely different reason.

The redhead pushed the curtain of her hair out of her face. "No, I..." she trailed off when they made eye contact. "Oh."

He was staring. She had disappeared before the morning light crept through the windows, fulfilling her promise of "no fuss." And for the first time, he'd wished differently. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her, about the things he wanted to say, if he ever saw her again. He opened his mouth.

"I'm not used to seeing you with your clothes on," she said.

Harry burst out laughing, the tension in his gut unwinding. She grinned, looking tall and proud despite her small stature.

"A welcome change?"

"Hm," she said, her eyes appraising him. "I'm not so sure about that."

He swallowed hard.

"Heading somewhere?" she asked, her eyes following his original path toward the door.

"I suppose it depends. Would you like me to?" His hand was still on her waist, not ready to break contact.

His heart pounded hard at the thought that she might be here with someone.

She smiled, which seemed answer enough until she rose onto her toes. Her lips brushed against his, soft and warm, like sunshine breaking through the clouds.

She eased away, and only then did he realize he had pulled her close.

"That doesn't sound so bad... Are you sure you like these clothes though?" Her hands smoothed out the front of his robes.

"No promises." He grinned at her stupidly.

Before she could respond, a distinctly male and stunned voice, and she turned toward it. "Ginny!"

Ginny...so that was her name.

Harry followed her gaze, surprised to meet the shocked expression on Weasley's face a few paces away. Ron, he thought his name was.

"That'd be my insufferable brother." Her eyes shined with mischief, holding out her hand. "Still game?"

He took it without hesitation. "You bet."

As they walked toward her stupified brother, she asked, casual, "What did you say your name was?" She knew full well they hadn't exchanged names. His grip tightened.

She hadn't known then.

"Harry."