#I need to clarify I do not think this way about anyone else still making content about this theory..

[mrsnaildood]

Me: God I can't believe I'm still lost in the sauce about the CX-Tech theory. That's so embarrassing. I need to move on.

Also me, the very next day: ...I need to draw him again.....

[luvchaew]

unwrapping!

jay has been your best friend for ages, but when touches started to linger and jealousy started to take all over him, you decided to give him a little surprise on his birthday. (feat zb1 hanbin, enhypen sunoo, katseye lara, mentions of riize wonbin)

“you really think i didn't know you had a thing for me all this time?” bestfriend!jay x pervy!reader, f2pl wc𓈒 3k— not proofread! ✴ cursing, making out, unprotected sex (don't ppl), oral (m. receiving), creampie, p in v, praise & degradation kink, breeding kink, jay is a switch, banter, slightly fluffy, pet names (jongseongie, baby, darling, princess..), mdni!

happy birthday jongseong! crazy to think you're already all grown up — he's finally 23 guys, are we gonna be okay?

𝑚. 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

jay had always been there.

if not for you, with you, for sure.

you didn't really remember what it felt like not having him around since you were about 12, except those past weeks; since you showed up with your situationship to a weekend barbecue, at least.

he'd been ignoring you — not really ignoring, but making it clear that something was up.

5 days ago, when you handed him the mayonnaise, his fingers brushed over yours carefully, with so much caution put into it that it was almost deliberate, like he was touching a stranger. a week ago, when you sent him a very funny electric guitar-related meme via dm, he didn't reply. worse, he didn't even react with a laughing emoji or something. things were definitely off, but you couldn't pretend you didn't know, not if you dig deep into your mind.

what you actually didn't know, but got hold of during a phone call with your friend, sunoo, was that jay accidentally overheard your conversation about wonbin — your brand new situationship — and how good he was in bed. that clarified a lot, if you were being honest.

you couldn't deny that he always paid too much attention to you. that his gaze lingered way more than it should. that some of your sleepovers at his house almost turned into something else if it wasn't for the solemn string that still kept you sane. that the silent acknowledgement of his feelings were always there, but you were simply too stubborn to admit it, to say that maybe, just maybe, you also wanted to be more than friends with him.

since there was this possibility that he was jealous, that he didn't want you with anyone else, you got thrilled, perhaps simply carried away, you couldn't tell. this wait has been killing you since you were 18, and if he wasn't brave enough to act, you were.

the idea at first was hanbin's, when he had already had too much beer and his messy hair covered half of his face. your roommate, lara, was there too, and perhaps it was the alcohol you drank while watching that baseball match, but you soon found yourself excited for it, planning everything amusingly fast.

“okay, so you're gonna be dressed in what?” lara pointed out, cleaning her slender fingers — that were full of nacho's orange bran, by the way. — on her pants.

“wait, there's a need for clothing?”

“hanbin! i'm not fully strip teasing in front of my best friend all of sudden, it has to be more subtle. let's focus”

“aren’t you going to do the ’let’s end up waiting’ thing? i was just trying to help, sorry” he pouted, raising his hands in cynical defeat.

“i think a ribbon tied around me would be good. something like ‘come and unwrap your birthday present’. ”

lara exclaimed, visibly pleased, her braided hair moving as she bounced slightly on the couch, she also helped giving more ideas, suggesting some ridiculous stuff like putting some background sexual music to play when jay was supposed to enter the room during his party — she probably meant Chase Atlantic, and it was soon discarded. — by dawn, sunoo also appeared, his eyes swollen from sleep but his mind working fast, brainstorming with you as he giggled playfully.

all of them waited all their life for this, didn't they?

“let's go through the plan once more” you started, biting your lips, “i’m gonna pretend to be nonchalant about his birthday, and at first not show up to his party. around 8pm, sunoo is helping me to sneak into his room and lara is going to tell him to go upstairs and search for something, or someone. when he enters the room, i'm gonna be there,”

“with a ribbon around you, do not forget” hanbin added, resting his chin on his hands as he listened attentively.

“yeah, there's that, too. and navy blue set of lingerie, god—, where was my mind at?”

“no backing out now, misses courage, we're fucking gonna do it and you're in. because there's technically no plan without you and we need that thrill” your roommate encouraged you, and even if there was pressure, you felt way more enthusiastic about it than what you should, hence why you just continued, nodding.

“i know, i know. then you're closing the door and we're gonna, um, have a lil’ fun”

they all excitedly laughed, and for a split up second, you swore sunoo would stand up and start jumping — it was almost his second nature to do so, and it honestly wouldn't be a surprise.

“but what if he refuses? aren't we going too far?” you spoke up, letting your insecurities show for a minute. you would be so embarrassed if he just ran away. if he said he didn't want that. and you knew damn well it would ruin your friendship one way or another.

“oh, stop. i have heard that guy moaning your name while showering more than once. it's gonna be fine” and perhaps it was the worst decision you've ever made, but you chose to believe them. are you this slutty to enjoy dragging your childhood best friend to a hook up on his birthday party knowing that he has no willpower to deny it whatsoever?

apparently yes.

you could blame it on the alcohol, yes you could, but when the days passed and the idea were still standing, your mind flying back to it every time someone mentioned sex?

there was no one to blame anymore. you just had to embrace your natural-pervy self and wait for everything to happen naturally — only with a little helping hand coming from you, of course.

because you wanted that to be the best birthday gift he's received his whole life.

one could call it obsession, concern, anxiety, whatever, but the only thing you knew was that the first thing that came to your mind the moment you woke up on the 20th was: “it’s today”.

throughout breakfast, you overthinked and overthinked about the small birthday text you'd sent him. you honestly couldn't remember when it was the last time you didn't send jay a wholesome message on his anniversary, however today would be different. today would be a new start — or maybe an end, depending on how things would go.

but you were positive.

you ended up deciding on a simple ‘happy 23, jongseongie’ and a white heart right next to it, which he visualized within minutes and didn't reply. you were expecting it, but it hurt either way, and maybe you kept staring at your phone screen for too long waiting for a signal.

despite the tension throughout the day, before you knew you were already barging inside his crowded house, sunoo by your side, lingerie clinging to your skin sinfully as a tight black dress hid it.

as you entered the room, you were quick to get rid off your dress and lay down on his bed, being extra careful to show enough but not too much in the direction of the door. as you did it, you were embarrassed to find yourself already soaked, he shouldn't be affecting you this much, should he?

you soon heard steps approaching and momentarily panicked. the loud conversation of the house and the noise of yells faded away, everything shifting completely in the atmosphere when he entered the bedroom, eyes darkening when his gaze fell on you.

you hadn't seen him in days, and saying he looks good was an understatement. broad shoulders, tight jeans perfectly fitting him, a strand of messy hair falling on his forehead.

jay called your name lowly, looking confused, but stepping forward, closer, dangerously closer.

“come and unwrap your birthday present, won't you?” you tease, voice dripping with honey and fake innocence given the position you were in: legs slightly opened, head tilted, body barely hidden and biting your bottom lip.

for a second, you thought he was going to turn around and run, and you considered apologizing, but then he was on top of you in no time, crawling to the bed and pinning your wrists on the mattress on top of your head.

it was everything he'd ever dreamed of. you on his bed, deprived of clothes, completely on his mercy.

“fuck, y/n— that's what you planned acting all bratty this whole time?” he groaned, sounding devastated.

“um, surprise?” you darkly chuckled, and jay searched for your brown doe-eyes. when he took it all in, he held your waist with his free hand and pulled you in.

it wasn’t a cute, soft kiss, but one that left you breathless as fast as it started. his lips worked fast on yours, the movements of his head leaving you dizzy. he pressed further, opening your mouth and sliding his tongue inside, exploring your warmness as if he had been starved.

you felt every single hidden feeling dissipating, every dangerous gaze making sense, every time he’d called you ‘princess’ — as a joke, as you'd tell yourself — meaning much more than it did before. and now you believed your friends when they insisted that he has been liking you for ages, because the force in which he kissed you was different.

you'd never been kissed like that before.

you ran your hands through his neck, gripping firmly in an attempt to ground yourself. you hummed softly, his grip tightened and suddenly the shortness of breath was present, leaving you separated for a while.

he looked deep into your eyes, breathing heavily, and only then scanned your body, groaning as he saw the navy blue lacy panties and the wet mark there.

“god, you look beautiful—” he hissed, amused. he freed your wrists and messily untied the ribbon, whereas you swore he was trembling slightly. the soft fabric fell down on the floor as he was quick to cup your barely covered tits, admiring them. jay would've been fast to unbutton your bra and give them the respectful attention, but it wasn't what you wanted now, you wanted him to feel good. it was a birthday surprise, after all.

“jongseongie, let me take care of you first,” he looked at you, wide-eyed, as if the idea alone threatened something inside him. you propped yourself on one elbow and sat up, slowly pushing him to lay down on the bed with the tip of your fingers.

he stiffened for a moment, but soon layed down, closing his eyes, trying to find sanity. you position yourself between his legs, spreading it open.

“ngh, too much clothes, take it off” you pleaded, and he obeyed, because who was he to deny you a wish like that?

as he took out his shirt, you almost crawled on top of him to leave lingering kisses everywhere: his jaw, collarbone, neck, shoulders. sometimes you would suck on it slightly just to feel how he shaked when you nibbled a specific spot right between his shoulder and neck. you didn't really overthink it, but jay was overly sensitive, trembling, panting, humming.

your nails scratched his abs, worshipping them. you’d already seen jay shirtless, when he was swimming, or when it was too hot and he sweated heavily so it would be excusable to take it off, but this was different, hotter, better. you earned beautiful noises that sounded more like the choir that opened heaven's gates, and when you settled beneath him, touching his clothed prominent crotch, work had to start.

“be good f‘me, hm jay? let me take you?” you whispered, patting his bulge teasingly, feeling it get harder with each stroke. he squirmed, eyelids fluttering close. “i need words, baby”

he opened his eyes slowly, pupils dilated. when he spoke up, his voice was low, hoarse, strained, “yeah, y/n, fucking gimme the best birthday gift i've ever received”

you smirked, satisfied, and gently lowered his pants and boxer, removing it. his hardened member instantly flew forward when it was released, the tip glistening. you hummed and leaned in, stroking it once, twice, three times, until he began to whimper, impatient.

you chuckled, spitting on it and finally leaving kitten licks on the tip, tasting the precum that coated his dick. his hand came to grip your hair in a lazy ponytail, while the other rested under his head. when he pressed further, leaving you no choice but take him in, you tried your best not to gag at the sudden movement, eyes closing.

he was big, you couldn't deny it whatsoever, but the biggest hardship was that he was thick, and it barely fit inside your mouth, competing for space with your tongue.

you swirled your tongue around it and started to suck slowly, feeling how he hit the roof of your mouth continuously.

you hummed around his dick, sending electric waves through his body and he groaned, wrecked, going rougher now.

“continue like that, shit princess—” he lowly muttered, and you drooled all over his shaft, saliva dripping down from your mouth and covering your face. you were a mess, and you knew that, perhaps was even proud of it, and when tears fell down on your face, the salty liquid combining with saliva and precum, jay was sure he didn't deserve that. you looked so damn pretty.

but he only continued, feeling his climax approaching embarrassingly fast, because you were his gift anyway.

his hands moved faster and his hips bucked forward. you looked at him through eyelashes and the vision you had was a crime to be for free: head fell back, lips slightly parted, messy hair, adam’s apple bobbing.

his thighs trembled next to you, and with a deeper thrust, his hot cum was shot at the back of your mouth, leaving you no option but to swallow it.

his seed spread messily along your mouth, his tip shining red, and as he drove himself through the orgasm, still fucking your glossy lips, you moaned unconsciously — high-pitched, dark.

you swore that the view alone could've finished you, and you were almost coming undone when he sat up, still heavily breathing, and pushed you down on the mattress, flooding you with his scent.

his uneven breath hovered just above your ear as he stared down at you, dark eyes scanning you in a whole. his fingers traveled to your soaking wet core, groaning when he entered in contact with it, “so wet, so gorgeous—” he tossed your lacy panties to the side, sliding a finger and stroking your cunt and bud all together. you moaned at the touch, a shiver running through your spine. he continued teasing, never giving in, breathing heavily, “do you think you deserve being fucked after bringing that boy around, hm princess?”

“he was no good so you had to come to me, isn't that it?” his words made you squirm, clenching around nothing as he continued teasing, fingering but never entering, his still-hard cock hitting your thigh at the proximity.

he was, at the same time, overwhelmingly close, but not close enough, not touching you were you wanted him to, where you needed him to.

you rolled your hips, desperate to create friction, and he only chuckled mockingly, his grin growing wider, darker.

“please— oh my goodness, please”

“please what, darling?” he gripped your inner thighs firmly, spreading yourself open, like you were an open book that only he could read.

“f-fuck me, ruin me, please, jongseongie!”

he let out a sound so lustful you weren't sure what it was, and snapped. he captured your lips in a kiss, now raw, messy, rushed, where he could taste himself on your tongue, and pumped his fingers in and out of you, stretching you open.

you moaned against his mouth, and right when he began to find your g-spot, curling perfectly, he pulled out. you whimpered at the loss, but soon, without any warning, he entered you completely. the stretch was overwhelming, and you felt him deep in your stomach, sitting inside for a while before thrusting fast. your jaw opened in a silent scream, and you held on to his scalp for dear life. it felt so good, your bodies intertwined like a limbo, damp of sweat covering his forehead, his dick hitting you so deep you saw stars. why haven't you done this before?

he hid his head on the crook of your neck, biting and nibbling on the sensitive spot there, the sensation sending butterflies on your stomach.

because it was supposed to be just sex, but his hands on your waist? hickeys left by him appearing on your collarbone? his name being recited as a chant as he was buried deep in you?

it felt more than just hooking up.

and maybe it was, but you were too afraid to admit, or perhaps it simply didn't matter now. you'd always been inconsequential.

as his groans started to get louder, his thrusts faltered, losing its pace and coming out messier, breaking your limits and surpassing where was the max you thought you could handle.

“princess, do you feel me here? going s’ deep”

“taking me in so good. letting me use you just as i want, you're the prettiest gift ever aren't you?”

“do you feel my cock hitting this perfect pussy?”

tears started to fall down your face again, but now they were saltier, the pain growing overwhelming when the knot on your stomach snapped, releasing what felt like a whole bottle of transparent cum.

jay didn't stop for a second even after your liquid was shot on your bodies, only holding your sides harder as he chased his own release. one could say he was possessed, eyebrows furrowing, eyes empty, mouth open.

“damn— t’much, too much, ngh” you cried out, earning a chuckle from him, as he muttered how you should take it because it was his birthday after all.

his thrusts faltered even more, his head falling back, you could feel that he was close. when he did release, his orgasm filling you up perfectly, shooting deep inside you, you were sure that was the best sensation you've ever felt.

“yeah, darling, letting me fill you up so good, hm? look at you, looking so wrecked. did i ruin you completely?”

you couldn't form coherent sentences, your mind occupied by a black cloud, where you wanted him, felt him, thought about him.

he laughed down at you, falling apart, wrapping an arm around your waist lazily. he nuzzled into your hair, feeling grounded on your scent, drunk in your taste. he lifted your chin up to kiss you once more, all those unspoken feelings, unacknowledged promises being transferred from you to him and vice-versa.

“i think you're receiving the first piece of cake this year, you were by far the one who made me happier today, princess.”

[star4daisy]

18/02 - husband - 1272 words - @rosekillermicrofic

“Where is he?” Barty asked desperately as soon as he entered the hospital. “Where the fuck is he?”

No one answered him. The place was a convoluted mess, with people running around, crying kids and wounded people in the waiting line. Barty barely avoided colliding with them as he ran to the front office.

The line was so big he considered stabbing himself to get admitted, that’s when he saw his salvation in the form of one Pandora Rosier. Barty skipped the line to where she was way ahead, ignoring all the protests around him. If anyone tried to stop him, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting physical.

“Do you know how he is?” he didn’t bother saying hi to her, he couldn’t make himself talk about anything other than Evan.

Pandora didn’t look nearly as distraught as Barty felt, but she had always been better at keeping her emotions in. It must run in the blood.

“Haven’t gotten any information yet, they said I needed to check here first.”

“Motherfuckers.” Barty cursed, ignoring the old lady in front of them who was sending him dirty looks.

It felt like an eternity before they were called, but Pandora only had two people in front of her in line. Barty let her do the talking, he wasn’t in the right headspace to be polite to anyone right now. Not when Evan was injured and Barty didn’t know how he was doing. Didn’t even know if he was alive. No. Barty couldn’t let himself go there or he’d lose his mind. Turn the entire hospital into ashes in his wake. Hell, he might let himself burn too so that he could meet Evan again.

“What’s your name, sir?” The lady finally turned to him after Pandora had already given all her information and Evan's.

“Bartemius Crouch Junior.” Barty had no patience to entertain her.

“Document, please.”

Barty gave it to her as quickly as he could, almost dropping it in the process, he didn’t know why his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Okay, Mister Rosier just got out of surgery, he’s still at the ICU, so only family members and partners can go up.”

“Okay, I’m his partner.” Barty didn’t even blink, there was a time when it would’ve cost him everything to admit it, but now it came as easy as breathing.

“I meant legally,” she clarified with an apologetic look. “His sister can go in, but I’m afraid you're not on the allowed list.”

“Excuse me?” Barty’s voice went up without even meaning to. “I’ve been with him for years, we’ve known each other since we were eleven and you’re telling me I can’t fucking see him because we don’t have a stupid piece of paper saying we’re partners?”

“I’m sorry sir, but only spouses and family members are allowed, you’ll have to wait until he’s out of the ICU.”

“Wait my ass, I’m going in to see him.” Barty hit his fist on the glass separating them.

“I’m gonna need you to calm down, sir. Or you’ll be asked to leave.”

Barty’s laughter was brittle. “The only way I’m leaving here is if you're all on a casket if you don’t let me in.”

“Barty,” Pandora interrupted his tirade. “Evan is fine, he’s in the room now. He wouldn’t want you to end up in jail or worse when he’s okay.”

“Fuck off, easy for you to say when you can go in. I need to see he’s okay with my own eyes. I don’t believe this cunt or any of these useless motherfuckers.”

“Barty,” her tone was full of warning.

“I need to see him.”

“There’s nothing we can do.”

“Yes, there is,” and then Barty turned around and started running.

He had no idea where he was going, barely avoiding hitting running nurses, he heard footsteps behind him but gave it no thought, he had a one-track mind when he was determined and nothing made him as focused as Evan.

Barty saw a sign with ICU written indicating that it was located on the seventh floor and ran to the elevators. He pressed the button five times before he saw security coming in his direction.

“Shit,” Barty checked around him for anywhere else he could go when he saw the sign for the stairs, without thinking twice he threw it open.

Barty was out of breath before he hit the third floor. He wanted to kill himself. Fuck him for never accepting Potter’s invitation to do cardio with him. They reached him before he got to the fifth floor. Barty was never smoking again, he was so out of breath he thought they might have to call a doctor for him too.

Maybe they would have if Barty hadn’t punched the first security guard to reach him, or if he hadn’t kicked the second one making him almost fall off the stairs. Unlucky for him he wasn’t in his prime anymore after all the running, Barty should've dealt with them before running, maybe he would've had a shot but as it was now he was taken kicking and screaming bloody murder.

Barty spat blood at the security guards' feet as soon as they threw him out through the emergency exit, he hadn't even felt it when they hit him. “I’m gonna kill all you motherfuckers.”

“You’re lucky we aren’t calling the cops on you,” They warned him.

Barty paid them no mind, even though one security remained outside to watch if he was gonna try to make a run for it again. Barty had never been so pissed in his entire life. How dare they not let him in just because he didn’t have a stupid piece of paper saying Evan was his forever?

It wasn’t like they hadn’t already been committed to each other for years, Barty had simply never believed in the concept of marriage. Not when all the examples he had were bloody awful. But now, after this, he was making Evan his husband as soon as he got out of the hospital.

Barty was pacing in front of the hospital when he had his most brilliant idea, he wasn't sure what gave him the idea, but he knew it was the only way he was being admitted to the hospital again after the stunt he had pulled. 

Barty turned to the guard with a shit-eating grin on his face — he couldn’t stop himself — he was a bloody genius. Barty took out the pocket knife he carried everywhere he went. He was getting in there even if he had to draw more blood.

“Don’t even try it,” the man warned him, his eyes widening as soon as he saw the knife in Barty’s hand. “Stay back,” he said as he reached for his walkie-talkie and called for reinforcement.

There was no need, Barty just needed him to see what was happening. As soon as the others stepped back outside, complaining that he was still there Barty turned the knife and stabbed himself on his side.

“Oh, shit.”

"Crazy motherfucker."

“Oh my fucking god, hold him.”

Barty was still smiling when they stopped him from hitting the floor and carried him inside the hospital. He laughed when they admitted him to the ICU and said he needed immediate surgery. 

“Barty?” Pandora asked with worry when she saw him passing in a litter. He didn’t even see when they put him there. “What the fuck did you do?”

Barty got one glimpse of Evan sitting down on his bed with a frown on his face before he passed out.

Evan was alive.

It was worth it.

[clockwayswrites]

Danny In Metropolis, ch3 p1

Masterpost

First draft and not read over. Migraine. Hurty. Currently on phone preying my green light helps. Please no edit or concrit <3

Despite their heart to heart about it, Danny still had to put a token complaint now and then about the lunches. Even with that, he ate every one. He also would also, in an oddly shy way, pass on thanks to Clark when there was something in the lunch that he really liked.

Kon made sure to tell each of those to Clark, in case, maybe, those things might make it more regularly into the rotation. He defended it to himself that it was just logical. If there were more things that Danny liked in the lunch, he was more likely to eat it all. As if Danny hadn’t eaten it all every day.

“So tell me about this Danny?” Lois asked with a smile that Kon didn’t quite trust.

For all that Clark was basically the alien embidiment of a cheerful, friendly golden lab, Lois was like a cliche cat. She was always after the canary too.

(She was also intimidating; she was more eloquent and put together than Kon would ever be, for all he pretended.)

“Um, he just moved here this year with his parents from somewhere in Illonois. Amity Park. He has an older sister, but she’s off at college.”

Lois stole one of the apple slices that Clark was cutting up. “What do his parents do?”

“Inventing of some sort. Danny doesn’t really like to talk about it,” Kon answered.

“A bit odd since he offered to come over and fix anything we needed fixing in return for the lunches,” Clark said. His back was to Kon, but he sounded like he was smiling.

The way Lois smiled when she glanced at Clark pretty much confirmed that. “Anything?”

“From dishwashers to computers to centrifuges,” Clark answered.

“Huh, well if our centrifuge ever breaks,” Lois drawled.

“I think that’s why he doesn’t like to talk about it. Like, I think that his parents used to have a lab at home or maybe more it felt more like they lived at the lab. They’re not supposed to do that anymore but,” Kon shrugged, “I guess habits die hard or something.”

“Hence the lunches,” Clark said. “Apparently food at home wasn’t always free of contamination, or at least percieve contamination.”

“Damn, poor kid,” Lois said, theiving another apple slice. “I guess you’ll just have to bring him home.”

Kon blinked and hoped to whoever that he wasn’t blushing. “Um, what?”

“For dinner,” Lois clarified with that dangerous little smile of hers. “Just to make sure he gets some good food then. I even promise to stay far away from the kitchen that night.”

“Oh, um, yeah, maybe?”

“You boys could work on that project after too,” Clark suggested, “pick Lois’ brain about poetry.”

“Oh god, poetry. I think I’m having flashbacks to Professor Eden’s class.”

“Bad class?”

“Amazing, but very, very weird. When God made that man, he broken the mold. I doubt there has ever been anyone else like him and the world is both better and worse for it. I may not be a poet, but he changed the way I looked at words.”

“Huh,” Kon said. “I guess… I can at least ask if he wants to come over.”

“For Friday. He can even spend the night if he wants,” Clark suggested. He turned around, handed Kon two lunch boxes, and just smiled back at whatever incredulous look Kon guessed he had on his face. “You’ve never had a sleepover, it might be fun.”

Kon felt confussed. “Um, like, every night at Titan’s Tower?”

“That’s more dorms than sleepover,” Lois said. “But just stick to dinner if that makes you uncomfortable, sweetie.”

“…right. Um, thanks, I’ll ask I guess,” Kon conceeded as he stuffed the lunch boxes in his backpack. “I better go before I’m late.”

“Have a good day at class,” Clark called after him.

“Dismantle the hetronormative patriarchy!” Lois added with a laugh at whatever look Clark sent her for that.

As if he could talk, he ran around in spandex with his underwear on the outside.

[gothicfied]

THE DEVIL IN YOUR EYES WON'T DENY THE LIES

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem!reader, best friends to ???

Summary: Even though it seems like Jude and you were always destined to be with each other, he wouldn't realize it until someone said it directly to his face. After months on plotting on your best friend, who drops hints here and there even if he didn't want to, he is now suddenly rumored to be mingling with another girl. She can't stand your guts and she'll make sure you know that.

Word Count: ~6.5k

Reading Time: ~26 minutes

Warnings: Mentions of drinking alcohol, Jude is kinda an asshole but not really, girl on girl hate, reader is struggling with her feelings for 99% of the time, Jude's stupid and proves himself to be stupid multiple times, mutual pining (if you squint), no happy ending/it's an open ending, not proof read (English isn't my first language)

A/N: omg seriously, I don't know what possessed me to do this. This is unnecessarily long and tbh I've never written a fanfic this long before. This took like a week and I think you can notice that in the way my quality of writing deteriorates LMAOOO sorry, the ending fell a bit flat, but I just didn't have the motivation anymore, especially after the literal DEVASTATING news of Lukita leaving the club????This calls for a part 2 tho, but only if it's really wanted this time. Title are lyrics from "back to friends" by sombr lolololol

It wasn't always easy being linked to one of the most popular footballers in the world. Even if the public was hit in the face with the fact that you and Jude were just friends, they wouldn't get it. And, it wasn't even like you guys never clarified it. In every interview, the footballer was asked at least once or twice about you and you couldn't even post an instagram story without people flooding your DM's with questions like:

"are you Jude's girlfriend???"

"can you guys just make it public?"

"you know it's legal, right?"

You and Jude. Well, you go way back. Okay, however far 'way back' goes with only 21 years of age. You had transferred schools in 6th grade and while everyone kind of ignored you on your first day, Jude didn't. He sat next to you in class, did group projects with you when no one else seemed to want to partner up with you, ate lunch with you when the only two friends you had were sick or just not in school... there were a lot of things he did out of pure kindness and platonic love that helped you through middle school. It wasn't like you were bullied or purposefully left out, it just seemed like you were to unnoticeable.

The two of you were inseparable by the time highschool started. Jude was doing the most with his talent in football and you were always right there cheering him on. His family loved you, your family loved him, it was almost like a future together was already carved out for you. You'd comfort him after a horrible loss, Jude would stay up hours just to study with you in your worst subject, and the both of you would sometimes sneak out to the park on random summer nights to stargaze. That's where the heavy stuff was shared.

"You have no idea.. I feel so secondary to my sister." You complained after your parents forgot one of your hockey games again, just because your younger sister had this math exam she so desperately needed to study for, with both mom and dad. Bullshit. She knew she was good enough and yet she still threw a fuss, just to annoy you. That's the kind of person she was: an attention seeker. "Shut up," Jude barked back, but there was no actually bite to his words, "you're not secondary to anyone! I'm being serious, your parents and sister are the problem. Not you." He slowly turned his gaze away from the night sky, stars shining as bright as they could in the light pollution of the city. "I'm just... Thank you for being there. Even if we didn't win." You also turned your head in his direction and met his eyes, ones so pretty you thought you were going to choke on your own spit. "You're always there for me, too. I'd be stupid if I missed your games!"

The first very big change came with Jude's transfer to Borussia Dortmund. Really, Germany?

You cried, and cried.. and cried some more when the day finally came where he had to move, to pursue is dreams. Sure, they were mostly tears of sadness and frustration and maybe you were a little mad at him, but you couldn't deny the proud feeling you had when you saw his debut. Jude in this big stadium with an even bigger fanbase cheering him on felt so right. He deserved it all, because you knew how much sweat, blood and tears were already invested into his football career.

But don't think he had forgotten about you! Anytime you could because of school and stuff, Jude would fly you out to his games. Proudly, you wore the last name 'Bellingham' on the back of your jersey, which always fell quite a bit too big on you. The footballer insisted on giving you his shirts after a game.. That just meant you had to wash the god damn thing four or five times to get all the sweat and the smell of grass out of it. Denise, Jude's mom, thought it was the cutest thing ever, always taking pictures of you whenever you attended a game with her.

Truth be told, Denise was more of a mom to you than your own parents. As the oldest, you felt left out and ignored by your parents because of your sister anyway, but when your baby brother was born, it was like you didn't exist for them anymore. Then, it kind of turned into a tradition for you to spend days like New Years at Jude's house. His father, Mark, helped you with your Uni applications and Jobe, his younger brother, had always treated you like family anyway.

It didn't come to a suprise that they'd take you on vacation, too. One time, there was a mix up with the rooms and, no matter how much Mark and Denise begged Jobe to just share the room with his older brother for a few days until things got sorted out, he flat out refused. "No! He's messy, leaves his clothes everywhere and kicks me in his sleep! I'm not doing that again."

Now that you were sharing the hotel room with Jude, you started to wonder how this shit would mess with your feelings about him. Yeah.. you may or may not have developed a slight crush on your best friend in the last couple of months, fueled by the tiktoks people made about the two of you. Jude was obviously not ashamed to post you in his story whenever you were together, apparently giving people the impression that there was something more going on. Oh, you wished it was like that.

You were sharing a bed. It was very late at night and all you could think about was one Insta gossip page posting about yours and Jude friendship... relationship? It was on your feed, it's not like you intentionally searched for it! You were quickly ripped from your thoughts when you felt a large hand slide over your stomach and pull you closer as soon as the half-awake Jude realized it was you that he grabbed and not a pillow. After that, he went right back to snoring. No shot he'd remeber doing this the morning after, but you were just giggling to yourself now. He likes you... he just has to!

The whole sharing-a-room-on-vacation thing became a tradition, too. You obviously didn't mind it, Jude didn't either. Whenever he thought you were sleeping, which you sometimes even were, he'd carefully put his arms around your neck or waist or anything and hold you close until he fell asleep himself. Then, the next morning, he'd act as if he was just as suprised as you at the way you both were tangled up in bed.

It also became your reality when he transferred to Real Madrid. Wow, Spain. This was it. Hopefully his club forever, since you were a big fan, too. Jude's debut there was nothing short of breathtaking, and skipping Uni to come down to Spain was all worth it — Especially for the hug he gave you after he sought you out in the tunnel. He ran to you like a little child to his mother, picked you up and spun you around while all you could do was squeal and laugh. You couldn't even try to pry yourself from his grip, not that you wanted to anyway. The post match interview was surely interesting.

"And, tell us, who's your biggest supporter outside your family? Probably the girl you've been taking with you everywhere you go, huh?" The interviewer of some sport programm you didn't know asked Jude, to which he just laughed and scratched the back of his neck. "Yes, yes! Her, of course.. who else?" He looked nervous when answering that question. And he was, definitely in that moment, because he felt like the whole world was watching him trying to not make it obvious that he had a huge thing for you. "Girlfriend?" The interviewer asked again, to which he shook his head: "Oh, nooo... I love her, you know, but we're best friends. Not.. Not together."

This brings you to now. Laying in the bed of the guestroom in his huge house in Madrid. It's summer and even the nights here have you sweating like no tomorrow. Not only that, but you can't sleep. You stare at your phone with your instagram feed open, a picture of you and Jude plasted right on the screen with the all-too-well-known 'Owkayy' starting the rampage this WAG fan account was always on. It's a picture of the both of you right after Real Madrid won the Champions League just a little over a month ago, with Jude staring down at you like he was dying to kiss you. Next slide was a picture of you comforting him after the loss against Spain in the EUROs just like two weeks ago. You'll never escape the rumors.

Everyone and their mom was convinced you belonged to each other. And, that thought made you so happy, you could even overlook the threats his fan girls sent you in your DMs. Who cares what they think, right? Everybody on the planet thinks you'll be with him!

There was this one other thing, though. Because obviously, you couldn't even have one thing to yourself in your life.

This influencer from the States, Amy or whatever her name was, you didn't really care enough to look, has been linked to Jude more often than you wanted.

Truth is, obviously you cared enough to look. Amy Samuels, 25 years old, beauty influencer, lives in New York, has two brothers and a step-sister, models in her spare time... She was everything you're not.

She was this beautiful blonde girl with the most piercing green eyes you had ever seen, her makeup always looked flawless and worst of all, she seemed down to earth. You thought maybe she was one of those unlikable, snobby instagram models slash influencers slash entrepreneurs, but no. She was a family person, had a cute dog she always posts picrures of and actually did her job pretty well.

You knew better than to let yourself get fooled by the image she puts up on social media, but her smile made it hard to forget that she seemed to be absolutely perfect. How Amy and Jude even got to know each other personally, you don't know. It must've happened over last summer or something, the time where you couldn't come to visit him, but had to stay home because of school stuff. And well, frankly because your life revolves around more than just Jude Bellingham.

There's countless of instagram stories she uploded with the same location tagged at the same time when he was there. One location in particular, you recognized right away: His bathroom. Not the bathroom of the guestroom, or the normal one out on the hallway, no. His. Bathroom. It made your blood boil. But why? In the end, isn't it your own fault for not telling him about your feelings sooner? On the other hand, he's been leading you on. You were so convinced you guys were soulmates, practically made for each other.

The emotional bond between you seemed to never loosen, no matter what you guys were put through. There were times where your friendship was definitely tested: that one toxic ex boyfriend you had in 11th grade, who absolutely refused to let you be friends with any male. When you tried to explain that to Jude, he was ready to go beat that guy up. He'd never tell you how relieved he was when you showed up crying at his doorstep, because you finally gathered the courage to break up with him.

"I feel.. I feel like—" You paused and sniffled hard, tears streaming down your face and there was nothing Jude could do to stop it. "such an idiot." To say he was startled to have you text him so late at night, asking if he was still awake because you really, really, really needed him right now was an understatement. But, thankfully he managed to smuggle you into his room without waking anyone in the house. Now you're just sitting on his bed, pouring your heart out about everything your now-ex had done to you in the last few months. Jude held you close, extremely close that night. After about an hour of violently crying into his chest, you had falled asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. The boy was wide awake, though, and surely didn't get any sleep at all. He cradled your face to his chest, his fingers gently threading through your hair to calm you down whenever you'd slightly stirr awake again. He felt so many emotions in that moment, mostly because he always thought he was the worst at comforting people, but you seemed to feel safe enough to fall asleep in his arms. That's what counted to Jude.

You were there when Dortmund lost in the UCL final to comfort him when he cried on your shoulder after getting in the car. The whole car ride long, you held his hand, telling him how good he played regardless and that the trophy is going to be his next season. Jude didn't reply. He stared out of the window, but you didn't mind. Back in the hotel room, he hugged you for what felt like an eternity, thanked you and kissed you on your forehead. Yeah, you guys have been through the worst.

Jude took you to any award ceremony as his plus one. For the longest time, a picture of the two of you on the night he won The Golden Boy Award was his lockscreen. And now? He's going to throw that away. His obvious feelings for you. He's not going to stop you whenever you kiss him on the cheek, hold his hand, sleep in the same bed as him. He won't correct himself when other people refer to you as his girlfriend and he'll laugh along whenever his parents call you their 'daughter-in-law'.

Oh, what a fucking asshole he is.

You think back to the time where Jude told you about a 'new acquaintance' he made while on a trip in New York. He'd talk about Amy from time to time, naming her a friend of his and sometimes you'd even see her at functions or parties or when going out with his friends. Somehow, she was always there. You never really thought anything of it, until those Instagram stories started to pop up and new rumors about Jude's dating life started to bubble. Suddenly, everyone around you was asking the same thing: 'Aren't you guys together?'

...

You woke up just as cranky as when you fell asleep with your phone in hand, the clock on the wall ticking being the only sound that filled the room. Denise was out of the country, just to visit Jobe for an exchange and to 'leave the house for you and Jude' wink, wink. God, how was it already this warm outside? August in Spain was no joke. You woke up sweating and you went to bed sweating, no matter how much deodorant you put on or if you showered like three times.

It was already 11am when you stepped out of the shower and brushed through your wet hair to let it air dry. You haven't heard a single peep from Jude yet, but maybe he was just letting you sleep in.

Your suspicions were proven to be true, when you made your way downstairs to find him making breakfast. The sound of your bare feet against the glass steps made Jude cock his head in your direction, smiling sweetly when getting a glimpse of you. "Thought you died up there, not gonna lie." He chuckled, but you were really not in the mood for it right now. Instead, you just groaned in slight annoyance and sat down on the couch, which was right in front of the open kitchen.

"Okay.." Jude came up to you, plate in hand. It was an attempt at making you your favorite bagel, which he's been trying to get right ever since you came back from your vacation in the US, craving it.

"Not funny?"

"No?"

"What's up with you today?"

"I just— Didn't sleep well, that's all."

After you took the plate out of his hand, Jude sat down next to you, stretching like he had just worked a 12-hour-shift just to sneakily put his arm around your shoulders. You were wearing one of his jerseys, but he still 'had' to push your hair to the front to check if it was his last name on your back. "It looks really good on you, you know?" Whatever you might've seen last night, no matter how mad you were at him or how frustrated you were with your feelings, that comment made you smile. You really tried not to, you tried looking away and pretend like the pool outside was more interesting than this conversation, but of course, Jude picked up on that. "I mean it."

"Yeah, yeah..." You rolled your eyes, "Thank you."

While you guys were having breakfast, Jude mentioned some party one of his new friends here in Madrid were throwing, even though he said it was more like a hangout with friends than an occasion to get super drunk. He obviously wanted you to come with, to which you first complained about: Those were his friends, not yours. You already knew you were probably going to be left out and it will just turn boring super quickly. Although Jude's spanish wasn't great, he at least knew some. Also, you were so sure she was going to be there too. Especially when he said there won't be just his spanish friends there.

"Look, they really wanna meet you. All of them." You gave him a weird look, sipping on your water. "You're a liar." What on earth could he have told them about you to make them so interested. There was nothing to you, except the occasional rumors about the relationship between the two of you. You led your own private life and you were happy with it. "Come on, it'll be fun. I swear." You really shouldn't. "If you feel uncomfortable, we'll leave."

"Oh my god, fine."

...

It was just as you had predicted. Your best friend of the night was the host's, Rafael's, dog. The golden retriever was resting his head on your lap while you admired his beautifully soft, golden fur. Every now and then you heard your name in a conversation others were having in spanish, followed by a question stringed out in bad english, about your life and football. The ones who also didn't speak the common language in the house were somehow still incorporated into the conversation. Maybe it was you, maybe it was the fact that you didn't really want to be there and others caught up on that. Or maybe it was because all your attention lied on Jude and Amy, who had been having a conversation for at least 20 minutes in the kitchen now.

You knew you shouldn't sit there and feel sorry for yourself, because it was pathetic and stupid. Why get so worked up because of a boy? You're not his girlfriend, not his situationship, not his talking stage. A right to be jealous of some random girl never existed. Weird feelings brewed in you, like you're going to explode if they don't stop. She's giggling at his jokes, touching his arm in a specific way that made your stomach turn, and he was entertaining all of it.

You were staring for too long, apparently. Long enough for Amy to notice. When her eyes locked onto yours, it's like all the life disappeared out of them. Her expression immediately turned sour, filled with condescension and some type of disgust, you were pretty sure. Quickly, you turned your head away from their direction, rather focusing on the dog laying in your lap. Amy, on the other hand, decided she didn't want you to ever lay your eyes on them together again, taking Jude by the arm and dragging him to god knows where. You didn't notice, you didn't even dare to look back after a few minutes. Your face felt hot, like shame had been written on your forehead with a red sharpie.

"Here, I made this for you. You kind of look like you need it." Said a girl who suddenly popped up next to you on the couch. Most other people have started lounging around outside, so it had quieted down significantly. In her hand was a drink and first you thought about taking it twice, since she was a stranger and all. "Take it. It's not poisoned or anything." So you did.

The girl introduced herself as Mirabell, a friend of a friend of someone here you didn't know. But she knew you.

"You're Judes Girlfriend.. right?" Mirabell asked very carefully, like she was dreading the answer to the question already. "What? Oh, no. We're best friends." Your response made her sigh relief and laugh, lightly hitting your shoulder. "Jesus! Thank god you are. I really didn't want to explain how he had taken off with Amy. Like, you know, as if he was cheating. But he isn't! Because you're not a couple!" At this point you were pretty sure she shouldn't drink any more alcohol.

Mirabell turned out to be very nice and funny, and finally someone who was willing to have a normal conversation with you. She was also the one who dragged you outside, after you got tipsy enough to not be so shy anymore, and properly introduced you to her friends. After literal hours, you felt like you at least had a right to be here.

At some point, it was just you again, leaning over the railing of the balcony and watching the small cars drive by on the streets beneath you. The alcohol flowing through your veins made it feel like you were way higher up than you actually were, making you grip the metal under your fingers like you'd fall if you didn't. You let your eyes sheepishly wander over the scenery in front of you, taking in the cold breeze of the night that came like blessing in the usual warm weather. It was so peaceful and quiet, with no one bothering you. It almost made you forget all your worries. Almost.

You were promptly ripped out of your thoughts when you heard the balcony door slide open and someone step out. "You okay?" A familiar voice rang through your ears, and thankfully you weren't quite drunk enough to not recognize who it was. "Yeah, don't worry about me." You replied to Jude's question, turning around to face him. He had a small smile on his face while eyeing you up and down.

"Come on, let's go."

"Wait, why?"

"I didn't get to spend time with you at all. And, I'm sorry for that. Let's go back home and maybe we can get something to eat on the way?"

Your interest was piqued when you realized he must've actually felt bad leaving you all alone to go with this... girl. After a moment of pondering, you agreed and let him drag you through the apartment by your hand, obviously planning to make an irish exit.

"Jude wait! Where are you going?" Oh great. You could've recognized that voice from anywhere. Embarrasingly so. It was just that you had to watch every one of her Reels to check if there was actually nothing wrong with her. And sadly, maybe sadly, her content was actually quite enjoyable. Amy yanked at his arm, the one with which he was still holding you hand, making him let go of you. You quickly whipped your head around, giving her a look like she had just insulted your mother with that gesture, but Amy didn't seem like she even cared enough to look your way.

"We're going home?" Jude replied in a matter-of-factly way, making Amy giggle nervously. "But why? I thought.. you know, I'd come over later. Why are you taking her with you?" Her eyes first dropped down to your shoes, than your shorts and top and finally your face. That short moment alone made you feel so small in her presence alone, especially when she looked at you like you were an alien. You didn't even know women could hate other women this much. She didn't even know you.

Jude, while being a man, didn't let that go as unnoticed as the blonde probably would've liked, and removed his arm from her grip. "She's literally staying with me. Didn't I explain that to you?" Amy tried playing it off again with a laugh and apologized.

After a bit of small talk, where she interrogated you about your friendship with Jude, while he was getting your jackets, you were finally out of there. Amy's words stung more than you liked to admit. Even if you didn't have a crush on Jude, even if you weren't jealous of her, no one wants to hear that. And even if with the confidence given by the couple of drinks you had, you still couldn't stand up for yourself. Reason number one billion why you felt so pathetic.

...

"Sooo, did you still have fun without me? I know, hard to imagine you can, right?"

You didn't say anything.

"That was a joke."

"I know it was. And I did."

He didn't say anything.

"Yes I did too! Thank you for asking!"

"Sorry."

The whole car ride back to Jude's place felt off and awkward. He wasn't stupid. He knew why. Maybe not to the extend where he could come to the conclusion that you liked him, but he knew it was something about Amy.

Seeing you so slumped in your car seat made him knit his eyebrows together. It was like a war was going on inside of him: Did he like you... or did he like her? He's 21 and can't even figure his love life out. This felt like some highschool bullshit that he really didn't want to to deal with anymore.

In the next couple of days, he tried not to bring Amy up again. He used to, in some conversations at least or he'd even ask you what you think her favorite flowers were, or what kind of jewelry would fit her aesthetic. Jude thought you were just sensitive to the topic because you were jealous she got more attention than you did. Did you really think a man would be smart enough to realize any of his mistakes here?

Two nights later, you were on the phone with your girl best friend back at home, Alicia. You had already cried your heart out to her in the past, complaining about how Jude was giving you such mixed signals and then pretended like nothing happened the next day. "Girl, I'm being serious. You have to set things straight or else it'll tear you apart." She said, sounding tired and concerned. You hated bothering her so much with your stupid problems that actually had an easy fix.

"Oh my fucking god," You mumbled to yourself, half asleep, half still focusing on the chat with Mirabell. It was way too late to function correctly, but when your new friend texted you 20 minutes ago with an invitation to go to the club with her, you woke up a little again. Should you come along? Maybe you'd meet someone to get your mind off if him.

You sighed and texted her back: "Yeah, sounds great!"

...

Carefully, you walked down the stairs in your heels, already regretting your decision to wear them. Jude was waiting for you at the front door, focused on his phone while his fingers tapped away at the screen. He looked good. Too good for your liking. With his shirt buttoned down a bit, shorts hanging low and sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose, you could think he was doing it on purpose. The sound of your heels clicking against the floor made him lift his head in your direction and grin.

"Woah," Jude chuckled, feigning shock at how good you looked. "You look.. amazing tonight. Who are you trying to impress?" That line alone proved to you that he was an idiot. A complete idiot you've been wasting you time on. On the other hand, you would be lying if you said his compliments didn't make your heart flutter. It was so odd: Jude looked at you like you were the light of his life, gave you compliments like you were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, yet he'll still immediately turn his back on you when he spots Amy at the club. "Thank you."

You tried to pretend like everything was normal, engaging in your usual banter while on the way to the spot y'all had agreed to meet up at. It was hard to ignore your feelings, not only for him but about this situation as a whole. In your mind, you were overreacting or even exaggerating your own problems to justify feeling bad for yourself. These were your last three days in Spain and you also just felt awful treating Jude in a way he didn't deserve, since he didn't really do anything wrong.

The feelings of shame and anger, mixed with a fun group of people, music and alcohol was calling for a disaster. Immediately after getting together with the group, you shifted your focus on Mirabell and other people, just to save yourself from the venomous looks Amy gave you.

You definitely had your fun getting to know new people, drinking and vibing to the music. Rafael, the guy from a few days ago, was very obviously hitting on you and was great at making you feel comfortable around him.

Maybe a little too comfortable.

Seeing Amy basically sit on Jude's lap in the booth next to you made all the feelings you've been bottling up the past week spill over. Right when Rafael took you to the bar to get a new drink, he noticed how your mood had dropped. And after asking if everything's okay, you couldn't hold it in anymore. While you didn't cry, you did complain about the situation quite a bit, very emotionally.

"Yeah, I kinda knew he was an asshole," Rafael said while looking down at you. You were leaning against the wall next to the emergency exit, where things were a little quieter than at your booth. "I know that now, too." You didn't know if the last Lemon Drop you had was making you feel like you were going to throw up or if the situation just upset you this much.

You wished you didn't care for it. You wished you were nonchalant enough to let these last few days pass over and then crash out when you're back home. But you weren't and you won't. Rafael, while only really knowing you for two hours, tried his best to comfort you.

What you didn't see was how Jude eventually approached you guys out of nowhere, seemingly annoyed 'catching' you with one of his good friends. It wasn't for that reason that he came up to you, though: "Hey.." He slightly yelled over the volume of the music. You could feel the bass boost in your whole body. Jude looked at Rafael and then back to you, confused, irritated maybe, but it also seemed like he was in a hurry. "What?" Rafael responded back, doing you a favor of speaking for you when you clearly couldn't. "Is she okay? I just want to talk to her." The Spaniard in front of you gestures Jude to come closer in an annoyed manner, because he couldn't hear him. After repeating himself for like three times, which Rafael was making him do on purpose given his smirk, Jude just gave up and leaned to you.

"I... Me and Amy are gonna leave and walk around in the city for a bit. Do you need me to drive you back?"

"I'll take her back to yours."

Jude shot his friend a glare, but you just agreed with Rafael. The look they gave each other was enough to kill.

"Go. That girl is waiting for you, isn't she?"

Rafael gestured to Amy who was just standing a few meters away. That stupid grin on her face made your blood boil.

...

What was up with you? Jude couldn't make a single thing out. The past week you've been acting so strange and he missed you. Missed the old you. He thought that might be corny, since this is probably something easily fixable, but he couldn't help thinking that way. What had upset you so much? Why did his own friend seem so annoyed with him?

Amy and Jude were strolling alongside a river and she kept pretending she was almost too drunk to walk, purposefully falling over to grip his arm. She was talking about some thing her girl friends did without her — Like a brunch or something. He didn't really care and didn't make the effort to at least look like he was interested. His thoughts lied on you and if Rafael really took you back home. What if he didn't? What if you liked him enough to go back to his place? What would he do if one of his friends would be interested in you? What would he—

"Jude!" Amy snapped her fingers in his face to get him out of his trance. "God, what is up with you? Is your alcohol tolerance that low?" She was clearly joking, but Jude didn't laugh alongside her. He made a comment about how she should never even dare to snap her fingers at him like that again and that he's seen her do it multiple times now. "That's serious not okay." Jude said, "people around you aren't dogs."

Only silence followed that.

Suddenly, after he kind of destroyed the mood, Amy seemed to be able to walk just fine on her own. It made Jude scoff.

"Don't tell me you're seriously thinking about her." Her tone was so foul, it gave Jude goosebumps. "Seriously! Oh my god, you can't be serious!" She raised her voice, "She? Her? That girl? Are you serious?" Up until this point none of the two had even talked about you for one second. That Amy immediately knew what Jude was thinking about made him think.

"Amy," Jude stopped dead in his tracks, pulling her back by her hand as she tries to keep walking. "What the fuck is your problem?" Now his tone was bitter. Ever since the two of them got to know each other, there always seemed to be a certain dislike towards you from Amy and he really didn't understand why. How could anyone hate you? Ever?

"What? In general or with her?" Amy tried making light out of the situation again, laughing like he just made one of his stupid jokes again. Was it insecurity? Did you make her feel insecure? The longer Jude looked at her, the less he understood his own actions. His feelings? his decisions, his past.. they don't lead to her. Nowhere even near her. What the fuck was his problem?

"You are.. you are so selfish. Do you know that? Actually, I think your just mean," Jude took a deep breath, "You're miserable, is that it? I don't have another explanation for your behavior around other women. She's my best friend and you've only ever talked crap about her." Amy's face didn't drop in the slightest. No, it seemed like has been preparing for the conversation.

"What are you yelling at me for? She's the one cockblocking you from every other girl you meet!" The two were lucky no one else was on the same small path as them right now. The river seemed to absorb their yelling with it's sounds. "You take her everywhere you go. I don't get it! She's the definition of mid! Mid tier! Has done nothing successful in her life! Jude, please, she's just using you for fame."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Jude looked at Amy like she just said the most outrageous thing in the world. To him, she did. "You know what?" Without raising his voice any more, Jude did a 180 and walked away from her, the frustration visible in his steps.

"Wait! No, Jude! Where are you going?"

...

With how fast Jude arrived back home, you could've thought someone died or something. Treating Madrid like a Mario Kart Track, he raced home in under five minutes and was now fiddling around in his pockets to find his keys. Jude was cursing himself, because he understood now. He finally understood and he felt so stupid.

He sighed with relief when he saw you had parked your heels right at the door when he stepped inside. The TV in the living room was on, but when he called out your name, it didn't seem like you were there.

Jude assumed you were upstairs in your— The guest room, and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw the lights through the small crack at the bottom of the door. He knocked, gently, and said your name: "I know you're in there.. Please tell me you're in there." Why wouldn't you be? You had no where else to go.

"I'm so sorry."

No reaction.

"Please talk to me".

No reaction.

Jude sighed.

"I'm stupid. And an asshole and a bastard and I know I messed up. Please, yell at me, insult me, do literally anything!"

Inside your room, you were trying to tune him out. You were laying in bed, looking up at the ceiling with your eyebrows knitted together and your arms crossed over your chest. You didn't feel like crying, surprisingly. You thought, when this moment finally comes, you'd fold in a millisecond and pour your heart out to Jude, but no.

After a moment, your feelings did end up betraying you felt the lump in your throat get more painful by the second. You heard a sound from just outside your door — Jude had sat down on the floor, resting his back against the doorframe.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm— That's all I can say."

Why is he making this so damn difficult for you?

"I'll sit here until you want to talk, okay? I'll sit here all night if I have to."

Yeah, safe to say both of you wouldn't be sleeping that night.

[glossykissies]

can’t decide if shane is the type to leave you at the campsite bc he has multiple people watching over you or does he think the safest place is right with him?

he definitely wanted to leave you behind for your own good, deciding that he was no good for a younger girl like you — but you heard him telling someone he was thinking of disappearing without a trace, and he couldn’t bear it when he turned around and saw you stood there, having overheard the whole thing, looking absolutely heartbroken.

“you’re… you’re leaving?”

“look that conversation ain’t nothin’ for you to worry about alright we was just talkin’ about—”

“shane i don’t want you to go.” your voice gets higher, brows pinched and he knows you’re close to a full breakdown. with tensions being so high, and sophia being missing still he knew he needed to keep this under wraps.

“not goin’ anywhere right now, can we talk about this later?” he hushes his harsh tone, ducking his head down to your level as if to warn you not to make a scene.

“no, no you— i’m coming with you.” you put your foot down, holding your chin up defiantly. he’s mid way through walking away when you say it, and he stops in his tracks — shoulders dropping slightly as he realises there’s no point in trying to act like you didn’t hear him correctly.

“come with me… you just don’t get it do you? nah you… you’re too young. ‘course you wouldn’t.” he mutters angrily, still facing away from you. shane yanks the police cap off his head and rakes a hand through sweaty hair, the other hand coming up to rest on his hip defeatedly.

“what are you talking about? i thought you liked me, you — you said —”

“it ain’t about—” the man spins around quickly, before stopping briefly to lower his voice, not wanting to attract the attention of the rest of the group. in a quieter tone, he continues, coming near to you again. “it aint about what i like. alright? i’m no good for you, don’t you see it? i am no good to anyone here. better off on my own, not fuckin’ up someone else’s life. you got a better fightin’ chance listenin’ to rick.” your lip wobbles as he speaks, shaking your head disagreeably. shane softens, cupping your cheek with that rugged kindness you’d grown so fond of. “hey. i ain’t someone to look up to. yeah? better off with someone else. you’ll come across more people—good— good people. young guy, someone right for you.” you can’t shake the pain in his expression as he speaks.

you slip your smaller hand over his, attempting to control your emotions. “i don’t want anyone else. i don’t want someone younger i want you. i want you, shane — just, please.” you mewl, leaning into his hand as he wipes your tears guiltily. he watches you closely, licking his lips unsurely. after a pensive silence he speaks.

“you’d… you’d throw all this away, all this safety and community away just for— what, to be with me?” he clarifies and you nod so hard he thinks your head might just fall off.

“i am safe with you shane. don’t need anyone else. just you n’me.” you whisper, feeling hopeful. he presses his lips together, stepping back when the group round the corner once more, gathering to discuss their next move.

“we’ll… talk more. about this… later, alright?” he raises his eyebrows expectantly and you nod, sniffling as you wipe the remains of your tears on the back of your hands. he softens some more at just how obedient you were for him. “you keep this between us alright girl?” he gives you a soft pat on the back to urge you in the direction of the rest of the group, following closely behind you with his hand resting comfortably on his gun.

[rockahulababyy]

Do you do imagine posts? Id like to hear what being Elvis wife would be like

Hii angel !! Thanks for your request <33 I just wanted to clarify that since you didn't give a specific era like 50s, 60s or so, I chose late 70s Elvis (my baby) but you can totally imagine whatever era you want or ask for another era. also this the first imagine i've ever wrote so y'all tell me if it's good !! xx

𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐒' 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 ?

It’s not what people think.

It’s not rhinestones and flashbulbs and screaming crowds.

It’s soft lamps at 3AM.

It’s his fingers brushing against your spine while he hums something you can’t place, lying awake beside you while the world sleeps.

Elvis doesn’t sleep at night—he never has, not really. His world comes alive under dim lighting, when the air is quiet and everything feels suspended. He’ll wake up after dark, hair messy, voice raspy, moving slow as honey while he finds you. Always looking for you first. Doesn’t matter who’s in the house. Doesn’t matter what the schedule says. His day starts when he sees you.

Some nights, you find him in the den, sitting cross-legged on the carpet with his nose in a book about chakras or ancient prophecies, incense burning low beside him. Other times, he’s pacing. Deep in thought. Rambling about something he read, or a dream he had, or how everything’s connected. He’ll talk until his voice gets hoarse, then just sit with you in silence, letting his hand fall into yours like it belongs there.

You’ve learned to follow his rhythm. Late-night peanut butter and banana sandwiches in the kitchen. Midnight drives. Curtains drawn during the day so he can sleep peacefully, your body curled against his under the heavy sheets. You’re his peace. His anchor. You didn’t ask to be, but he gave you that place without question. Like he just knew.

Some days are harder than others. You see it in his hands when they shake just a little trying to open a bottle. In the way he leans on you more than he lets anyone else see. The meds slow him down. Some of them make him tired, foggy, forgetful. But he tries—for you. He tries to take less, or take them later, or ask the doctor about changing things up. Because he sees the worry in your eyes, and it kills him. He says it doesn’t bother him, but you know it does. He doesn’t feel like himself sometimes, and that makes him feel like less of a man.

In the beginning, he was scared. Scared you’d want someone younger, stronger, someone who didn’t flinch at mirrors or dread mornings. He couldn’t touch you the way he used to touch women in his younger years. He couldn’t always feel what he used to feel. He cried once, thinking you were asleep—held your hand to his chest and whispered that he was sorry he wasn’t enough.

But you stayed. You didn’t need him to be the man the world saw. You just needed him to be yours. So now he kisses you softer, slower. He holds you longer. He asks if you’re happy and believes you when you say yes. Because happiness here looks like coffee at midnight. It looks like his head in your lap while you play with his hair. It looks like soft pajamas and gospel records and half-finished conversations at sunrise.

The boys—the Memphis Mafia—thank God for you more than once.

They don’t say it outright at first, not when it’s new and Elvis is still pretending everything’s fine. But over time, you catch it in the way Jerry’s voice softens when he says, “He’s been lookin’ better lately.” Or how Joe gives you that knowing nod when Elvis eats a real meal or skips a pill because you asked him to. Red jokes that he used to have to drag Elvis outta bed, but now? He gets up for you.

They see the way he tries. The way he holds himself a little straighter when you walk into the room. The way he reaches for water instead of another handful of pills. He still struggles, of course. Still has those days where the weight of everything gets too heavy. But they’ve seen what he was before you—how he let himself slip deeper into the dark. And they see now: he wants to stay in the light, if only to be the man you deserve.

Some nights are soft and sacred. You don’t need fireworks or grand gestures. Just him. Just the two of you. Sometimes, the world feels far away—shut out by blackout curtains and whispered “I love you”s under breath. You’ll make love slow and quiet, like you’re trying not to wake the house. Like time’s frozen around you. And afterward, he’ll tuck you against his chest, bury his face in your hair, and sleep through the whole day with your body wrapped in his arms. It's not just passion—it's safety. It's home.

Other nights, he’s all wide-eyed and playful, coming into the room with a sly grin and that little bounce in his step that only means one thing: he’s got a plan.

“C’mon, baby. Get dressed. We’re goin’ out.”

Out means he's rented out an entire movie theater in the middle of the night just so you and the boys can watch some old western or kung fu flick. Popcorn for everybody. Blankets just for you. He watches you more than the movie—smiles every time you laugh, kisses your temple during the boring parts. For him, your joy is the main event.

And then there are the quiet, thoughtful things he does that no one else sees.

Like the time he went into a little church while he was away—just wandered in after a long day. He found a rosary in the gift shop, held it in his hand for the longest time. Later that night, he gave it to you, eyes low like he wasn’t sure if it was silly or not.

“I figured… when I ain’t here, you could hold it while you pray. Think ‘bout me. That way I’m always with you, baby.”

You cried, soft and quiet, and he held you like the world could end right there and he’d still be content, as long as you were in his arms.

Being his wife means learning how to love a man who's seen too much and felt too deeply. It means patience when he's quiet, comfort when he's overwhelmed, and laughter when he forgets how to smile.

But in return?

You get a kind of love that’s rare. The kind that fights for you, even when he's tired. The kind that shows up at 2AM with a peanut butter sandwich and a kiss. The kind that holds your hand during gospel songs and stares at you like you’re something holy.

He’s not perfect. But he loves you like it’s the only thing he’s ever done right.

And maybe, in a way, it is.

Being Elvis’ wife means living in a world that turns upside down—where night is day, and love is whispered in the quiet hours.

It means seeing the man behind the myth: soft-hearted, haunted, trying his best. It’s devotion wrapped in silk sheets, gospel records at dawn, and a hand reaching for yours even in sleep.

It’s not always easy. But it’s real. Raw. Sacred.

And in the end, it’s this:

Loving him in the dark, and being the light he always comes home to.

[lcriedlastnight]

Oblivious reader and Lando saying “how did you not notice, i always flirted with you.”

i'll forever love flirty lando.

tw: fem!reader, swears, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.1k

"look at you! you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen!" lando exclaimed as you spun around, showing him all the angles of the dress you were currently trying on. your smile is unmatched as you face the enthusiastic boy.

"you think?" you ask, still unsure on the dress.

"this one's for sure the best one you've shown me yet, beautiful." lando admits, taking a step towards you. you hum in response.

"i really need this dress to make me look good." you tell him, turning around to inspect your reflection in the dressing rooms of one of the most expensive and fancy stores you had ever stepped foot in. lando had insisted in taking you to this store, even after you had told him you would never be able to afford the cheapest thing in there.

lando rolls his eyes behind you and you catch it in his reflection.

"y'don't need a dress to make you look good." the curly haired boy acts like it was obvious. you actually have to bite back a smile at his sweet words, trying to concentrate on whether or not this was the dress for tonight.

"can i ask what you actually need a dress for?" lando asks, hands coming to rest at your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he admires your reflection in the mirror. if it was anyone else you would have been completely shocked at the action, but it was lando. he was always touching you in some way. "he's just a touchy person" was what you told your frienda the first time they actually witnessed it. it was obvious to everyone but you. lando was down bad.

"i didn't tell you?" you ask, surprised that you had actually forgotten to tell him what the dress was for in the excitement of dress shopping. lando just gives you a goofy smile that told you he did not mind that you had forgotten to tell him.

you smile back through the mirror. "i have a date tomorrow!" you say happily. you have never seen someones expression sour so quickly. it makes you spin around to properly face lando, a worried expression on your face.

"what? what's wrong?" you ask in a panic. lando stares at you in shock.

"you're going on a date? with a guy?" lando asks, although it is not really phrased like a question and instead like a statement.

you nod, confused at his words. "uh, yeah? that's usually what people mean when they say that they are going on a date." you clarify, trying to lighten the mood again by your joking tone.

lando is actually speechless for once, as he just stares at you blankly. the boy was acting like you had just told him someone had just shot his cat, it was confusing you to say the least.

"take the dress off." lando eventually says, with a stoney expression and blunt words. your brows jump up in shock.

"no? i'm not doing that."

"yes you are. i'm not buying you a dress, just for you to go on a date some another fucking guy." lando tells you, already ushering you back into the stalls to take the dress off. you are gobsmacked at the way he was acting. lando shuts the door once you are inside the stall and directs you to lock it. you suppose he has a point and there was no way you were affording this dress without lando, even though he had assured you that it would be his treat, he had the right to change his mind. it did make you sad that you could not buy the dress because you really did like it and you had thought that your date would think so too.

while you stare at your reflection in the dress for the last time in the mirror inside the stall (this place had so many mirrors, it was ridiculous) you hear lando's footsteps retreating and you surmise that he had decided to leave you. it was a mean thing to do but you knew lando was upset and you would never even think about holding it against him.

you take the dress off and slip it back on the hanger. you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself as you redress yourself in your own clothes that you do not hear the returning footsteps that enter the dressing room.

lando knocks on the stall door and at first you are confused because you had thought he had left but then you think yourself a fool because why had you thought lando would leave you alone in the dressing rooms of some fancy store just because he was upset about you going on a date for some reason. you open the stall door to be faced with a happier looking lando and an arm full of dresses.

"see which one of these you like best, i'm taking you out after this." lando informs you, handing the dresses over to you. there must have been about ten in his hands.

"you're what?" you look at his, completely puzzeled.

"i'm taking you out. i like you, much more than that stupid date you have tomorrow. i know that for sure." lando grins at you as he shuts the stall again. you don't move behind the door as you try to understand the information lando had just fed you.

"you like me? what do you mean you like me?" you ask, forced to converse with him through the barrier, if you were to guess, you would say lando was sat on the weird, round sofa in the centre of the room, facing your stall with that stupid smile that gives you those butterflies you had forced yourself to ignore anytime they reared their ugly head.

"how did you not notice? i always flirted with you?" lando questions, again, acting like his words were common knnowledge.

"i thought you were just being nice." you say, now starting to try on the first dress on top of the pile, embarrassment coating your words. lando laughs and it sends little beams of light around the room. the once dim lighted dressing room as bright as if it was being lit with fluorecent lights.

"just being nice? god you're hopeless sometimes, love." you know it is a little insulting but you cannot really find it in yourself to be upset because he had just called you love and it was melting your brain. you were sure that if you tipped your head to side, your poor brain would pour out your ears.

"d'you like italian? there is this great place just down the street. the pasta is amazing!" oh, you could get used to this.

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae! I love your work sm. I’m submitting a request because right now I’m dealing with some really crazy friend drama and while I’m mostly handling it okay it’s still a lot! Your fics bring me a lot of comfort- especially your James fics- and I was wondering if could do James comforting reader because of friend drama.

Totally okay if you can’t and thanks for listening either way!

<3 M

Thanks for requesting M, hope your drama is causing you a bit less stress these days! <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 838 words

“And when I asked her she said she wasn’t upset, but I could tell, you know?” You’re sitting with your hands trapped under your thighs on the kitchen counter and your back against the cabinets as James makes a sauce for your pasta on the stove. 

Your boyfriend makes a dissatisfied tsking sound. “Upset in general or upset with you?” 

“Upset with me,” you clarify, sighing. It’s been an exhausting afternoon. “She gets like this sometimes. She’s all huffy and snaps at me whenever I say anything, but if anyone brings it up she’ll say she’s fine. I don’t know why it always seems to be me.” 

James makes a sad face, kissing you on the cheek. “M’sorry, lovie. Then what happened?” 

“Then, we were just, you know.” Your fingers wiggle underneath your thighs, wanting to fidget with something, but you’d put them under there in the first place to keep from picking at your hangnail. It’s not unusual for you to come home from a hangout with your friends eager to gossip with James, but today’s weighing heavily on you. “We were just walking around, trying to find somewhere to eat. Everyone else was acting like everything was fine so I was trying to go with it, but any time I talked she’d snipe at me like I was being so annoying. And I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong.

“After a while, one of the girls asked if she was alright, and she said she was, but then almost right after that I was talking to someone else and she got really pissed off with me—I don’t even remember what it was, honestly, something about me asking a dumb question—and I just—I completely snapped.”

James looks over at you, eyes widening slightly behind his glasses. You look down at your lap.

“I don’t know, I don’t think any of the things I said were wrong, but I feel—” Your voice tightens and thins, tears pressing at your eyes. “—really bad for raising my voice like that. And now she won’t speak to me.” 

“Oh,” James sets down his spoon, “baby.” 

“Uh oh,” you joke weakly. James only calls you baby when he’s feeling particularly sorry for you. 

He leaves his sauce to simmer, nudging your legs apart and stepping between them. His hands land on your lower back, his head on your shoulder. You slip a hand free from under your leg to cup the back of his head, fingers sinking into downy curls. 

“I’ve made things awkward for everyone now,” you say in a small voice. “She’s always angry, but I was the one who shouted. It’s my fault there’s conflict.” 

“I really doubt anyone sees it that way,” says James. His palm that’s higher up on your back is rubbing up and down consolingly. “Anyone who knows you knows that you’re not one to shout. But we’re all bound to get a little riled up sometimes, and by the sound of it you’d just reached the end of your tether, lovely. I think your friends will understand that.” 

“I don’t know.” You began this conversation hoping to keep up a light front, but you’re starting to sound terribly glum. “I know they’ll all be upset if we don’t make up. I think I need to apologize.” 

“Why not her?” 

“She won’t do it.” 

James sighs, leaning back so he can see you and cupping the side of your neck. His thumb strokes your cheek. “If you think that’s what you need to do,” he says frownily. “I just want to say for the record, though, that you haven’t done anything wrong. She sounds like she deserved to be shouted at.” 

You feel a little bit lighter after one of his world-class hugs, your lips tugging upwards. “Oh, yeah? And that’s your totally unbiased opinion, is it?” 

“Totally,” he swears, lifting three fingers in a salute. “Scout’s honor.” 

You let out a little laugh and pinch him on the bicep, where there’s ridiculously little yield. James grins and retaliates by catching your hand, holding it captive as he leans forward, kissing you soundly. 

“You were never in boyscouts,” you mumble against his lips. 

“Could’a been.” He kisses the corner of your mouth, your chin. “I like to consider myself an honorary member.” 

“Pretty sure that doesn’t count.” 

“Oh? And how would you know?”

James’ face is up close and personal with yours, eyes flirty and hand placed intentionally high on your thigh. If you blinked, your eyelashes would be centimeters away from brushing his glasses. 

“You’re distracting me,” you say. 

He smiles, half sheepish. It seeps through your warming skin. “It was working, too. Let me keep trying?” 

You roll your eyes, but you know James can see the grin you’re fighting to suppress. “Sure, fine.” 

“Excellent.” He dots a quick kiss on your chin and squeezes your thigh before stepping back in front of the stove. “Get the pasta out for me, please, lovie? I can hardly ravish you on an empty stomach.”

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

hi gorgeous!! The way you write james has me thinking non stop about him for days (i need him fr) so on that note, can i please get a request where reader gets jealous for some reason and he doesn’t notice at first cause he only has eyes for her but she kind of gets clingier and a little grumpy so he talks to her and just lots of fluff and cuddles? Thank you <3

thank youu! comments like that make me want to be writing all the time really hope you like it!! sorry i got a little carried away length-wise

a confession among friends: getting called my boyfriend's sister actually happened to me once and i was soo pissed lmao

pairing: James Potter x reader word count: 4.1k (not completely proofread)

Boy-friend

You weren’t much in the mood for a party. No matter how many times Sirius clarified that it was only a “get together,” it was a party. Still, James had wanted to come, and there’d been plenty of times he’d come out because you were the one who felt like it, so you were happy to try to make the most of it. 

James comes up behind you now, surprising you and tickling you with no warning. You break out in full laughter but contort to smack him away. 

“Stop! stop!” you half laugh, half yell. 

“Alright, shortcake, but if I catch you looking grumpy again, you’re gonna get it,” he replies cheekily, giving you a playfully accusatory squint. “Shortcake” wasn’t your favourite of his nicknames, but it had stuck after one night the boys had had way too much to drink and way too much fun making fun of you for being the shortest of the group, not bothering with your contention that it wasn’t fair since you were the only girl.

“I was not looking grumpy.” 

“Given I’m the one who could see what you looked like, not you, I think my word counts for more here.” 

“What are you two on about?” Sirius interrupts, wrapping an arm around James’s shoulders in their typically brotherly way. 

“Was or was she not looking grumpy just now?” James asks.

“Was,” Sirius nods affirmatively.

“Whatever, you losers,” you roll your eyes at them. “Anyway, if I’m looking bored” — you glare at them before either corrects your word choice — “I feel justified in blaming the host of the party,” you smirk at Sirius.

“It’s not a party; it’s a get t—“ 

“A get together,” you both finish for him. 

“Yes, yes, we know, mate,” James laughs. “Lots of people in your flat for a ‘get together,’ don’t you think?” 

“Well, I’ve just made lots of cool friends recently. Thought it’d be nice for them to meet each other,” he shrugs.

“Always so generous,” you tease.

“‘Course,” he shrugs. “How else are you two annoyingly romantic recluses going to meet anyone new? You never leave your flat.”

“We do so,” you try, but it sounds damningly defensive. You cringe before Sirius can pounce and add, “Well, we’re here now aren’t we?”

“Fair. Glad you’ve graced me with your presence, L/N,” Sirius smiles.

Just then a small toy football whizzes past Sirius’s head. 

“Oi!” he yells, turning towards the source of the projectile. “No indoor football!” Then he grins his characteristically wolfish smile. “Not before I get to pick teams! I am host after all.” He grabs you by the wrist, dragging you with him. When you begin to object, he just shushes you with, “Weren’t you just complaining about being bored?” 

James comes too, no dragging necessary. You’re surprised to find Remus, usually so responsible, in the midst of the ball game crowd. 

You raise an eyebrow at him, and he chuckles, shrugging and telling you, “It’s Sirius’s flat. Do you think we’d even be able to tell if something got damaged?” He looks around at the messy space. 

You all start what was initially some kind of football game, but it just devolves into a drunken monkey in the middle situation. 

You get stuck in the middle, for frustratingly longer than most. It’s not fair Remus is so tall, and James so athletic. When you’ve finally had enough, you jump at James when he catches the ball, wrapping your arms around him, not even going for the ball.

“Hey!” he yells as he’s laughing. “Ref! Foul!” He shakes you loose, not without a fight from you. “That’s not the game,” he chides you. He lifts the ball high, and you make the mistake of reaching for it, obviously having no chance. “Gotta try better than that.” He hasn’t stopped laughing as you jump up and down like an idiot.

“I give up,” you announce, winded but smiling slightly.

“Such a sore loser,” he teases, ruffling your hair a bit and giving you a gentle playful push. 

“Whatever,” you push him back. “I’m thirsty. You want anything?”

“I’m good. Catch up in a sec.”

“‘Kay.”

He throws the ball over your head at a ready Sirius as you weave your way to the kitchen. 

You lean on the counter, drinking some water. You look back over toward your silly boyfriend and best friends, who are still playing the game, but your view is mostly blocked by a couple of girls who are also watching the shenanigans. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, but they’re standing very close to you. 

“He’s so cute,” says one of them, a strikingly attractive girl in heels that make her a whole head taller than the other girl. 

“Why am I not surprised? You have such a specific type,” laughs her friend. 

The gorgeous girl just shrugs, owning it with no shame. 

Having witnessed your fair share of such reactions, you automatically assume they’re talking about Sirius. You just smile and roll your eyes, used to it. 

Soon the boys are over the antics too even though the game continues without them, and they come get some water as well. James stands next to you as he downs his glass. He bumps his shoulder against yours, a common gesture between you. 

The girls turn toward your group now, and the especially pretty one says, “Thanks again for inviting us, Sirius. If I’d realized it was going to get so… physical” — she emphasizes the word seductively, as she nods back to where they had just been throwing the ball — “I wouldn’t’ve worn such high heels.” She kicks her foot back a bit, as if to show the heels she’s blaming, but you don’t miss her turn into it, showing off her (amazing) body.

Sirius just grins knowingly, unfazed. 

“You could always take them off,” he suggests nonchalantly. 

She giggles and retorts, “But they look so good on me.” 

You can’t help but think it’s incredible people actually just talk to each other this way. You feel like you’re watching a movie, sure you’d never feel bold enough to say something like that unless the other person knew it was your line. You’d never been particularly good at flirting, and getting together with James since back at school, you hadn’t had the need in a long time. Even with James, though, you’d never talked like this, not back then, not now. You were glad you didn’t feel the need; everything just came naturally when it came to James. He used to make you nervous from how much you liked him, sure, but for years, you’d become completely comfortable with him. The closest you came to flirting was your quite frequent teasing, but you teased Sirius and Remus as well, and they you. 

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friends?” The girl’s question breaks you from your thoughts, drawing your gaze to her. Her gaze, you come to find, is not on Sirius, but on James. Directly, aggressively on James. 

Oh god. Maybe it wasn’t Sirius after all. 

“Oh, how rude of me,” Sirius says, typically theatrical. “Lads, this is Jules and…” Jules introduces her friend, but you miss her name as a group of people near you laugh loudly. “And these are my best mates, Remus, James, and Y/N,” he gestures at each of you in turn. “We go back to our school days,” he adds kind of adorably.

“Oh, how cute!” says Jules. 

Ok, not that adorably. You cringe internally at her then feel a bit guilty for disliking this girl for very little reason. Well, maybe there was a reason… but it wasn’t one you felt often.

She hasn’t stopped staring at James the whole time, and you steal a glance at him now. He’s pouring himself more water, quite unaffected. He looks at her only when she addresses him directly. 

“You were so good at… whatever you all were doing over there,” she giggles. “James. It was James, right?”

Oh please. She obviously remembered.

“Yeah,” James smiles, wiping some water that had condensed around his glass. “Thanks,” he chuckles and shrugs. “Not much competition, though,” he adds teasingly, shoving Sirius on one side of him and splashing your face with the water droplets lingering on his fingers on the other.  

“Oh don’t be mean,” she says exaggeratedly, playfully hitting his shoulder. 

You are not a fan of how angry such minimal contact makes you. 

“I thought you put up a really good fight against someone so tall and clearly athletic,” she says to you, looking back toward James at the end of her sentence. 

James just laughs lightly and, turning to you, bumping your shoulder, asks, “What do you think, shortcake? You think you put up a good fight?” His tone is all teasing. 

“You two are too cute,” says Jules. 

Weird angle for her obvious flirting, you think. 

“Is this your sister?” she asks, pointing between the two of you. 

Oh god. You are simultaneously mortified and infuriated. 

Sirius breaks out laughing, saying, “I told you I bet other people play siblings or dating with you two when we go out.”

James starts saying something, but just then, the ball from the continued game hits the counter right next to you, knocking over a bunch of water glasses and startling you all.

“Alright,” Sirius chuckles. “Maybe enough with this shit.” He grabs the ball and goes to toss it in a closet. James goest to dry his arm where it got splashed. Remus starts cleaning up the mess. A loudly apologetic bloke you don’t know comes over to help.

The slight chaos has moved the conversation away from what was just happening, and you have no idea how to clarify things without being incredibly awkward. 

His sister? What the fuck? Did this girl really not mind being a total bitch to get what she wanted or, worse, did she actually think you were siblings? Did you look like siblings to the rest of the world? Should it bother you so much if you did?

You’re reeling, and start thinking back to what could’ve given her that impression. Your stomach sinks at the realization of so much playful bumping, hair ruffling, and the like. You can’t remember kissing James once tonight. Maybe this isn’t out of the ordinary, with your slight aversion to PDA, but not once? You realize also how many of your gestures toward James you’d also done toward Sirius. How much they behaved similarly not just with you but with each other. Oh god. Were you that sisterly? 

You panic, reach for a kitchen towel, and start drying your damp boyfriend, getting way too close and speaking way too loudly when you say, “Let me help you with that, baby.” 

James is a little taken aback. You never call him baby. In fact, though his calling you pet names is common, the reverse is rare. You usually stick with “Jamie” … or some dumb teasing insult like “loser.”

“Uh, it’s fine,” he chuckles confusedly. “Wasn’t that much.” You nod and put the towel down. “You okay?” he asks. 

“Fine,” you say too quickly.

You glance toward Jules to gauge her reaction, but she’s busy also drying off, her friend having gotten the worst of it, and you’re not sure whether she heard you.

“Wanna go sit down? I’m tired,” you tell James, dragging him by the hand, which you don’t let go of even after he’s clearly following you, back to the living room. 

You pull him down to the couch, where you proceed to sit way too close to him despite there being more room on your other side and wind your arm under his as you continue to hold his hand. You kiss his cheek as he settles in. 

He’s smiling but asks, “What’s with you, love?”

“Nothing,” you say, but your voice sounds off even to you. You kiss him again, and even more confusion seeps into his smile. 

You’re trying to think of something “couple-y” to do but come up with absolutely nothing, an awkward air arising between the two of you as you squirm. You literally cannot remember the last time you felt awkward with him, and now you add feeling guilty into the mix. At your insecurities, at your jealousy, at his slight discomfort, you’re not even sure at what, but it’s awful. 

“You sure you’re alright, sweetheart? You’re all tense, and I’m pretty sure I’ve lost circulation in my hand at this point,” he chuckles. You notice your grip is vice-like. 

His tone is light, but yours is not as you snap, “I’m just holding your hand. I’m your girlfriend; that shouldn’t be weird.”

His smile fades quickly as he answers, “Uh… I didn’t say it was weird, Y/N. Just too tight?” It sounds like a question, but that’s probably just because he seems very confused overall. 

“Right. Sorry.” Your voice is much softer now as you let go of his hand. 

“It’s fine. Obviously. I just… Um…” He’s searching for what to say, wanting to comfort you but unsure what you even needed comforting from. He opts for just reaching for your hand again, straining a smile though his eyebrows remain in a confused furrow.

“You wanna go disorganize Sirius’s beloved record collection?” he asks mischievously.

“No, not really,” you say softly, not feeling like a prank right now even though you usually did. 

“Um, ok.” James looks a bit awkward. “You hungry?”

“No.” 

“Right.” A silence. “Let’s just sit here then,” he says, probably a bit more sarcastically than intended. 

“Is that so bad? Do we always have to be doing something for me to be fun?” you shoot, standing up. “Why don’t you go find Sirius or Remus, James. I’m sure it won’t even make a difference.” You turn away angrily, but he follows you up quickly and stops you. 

“Whoah, what’s up, shortcake?” he asks, eyes wide. 

“Don’t call me that. It sounds like you’re teasing your little sister.” 

You see something in his eyes at the word “sister,” but you turn and keep trying to walk away before you have time to really analyse it.  

James is following you but he has to weave between a group of people you managed to avoid, so you get to the bathroom before he catches up. He knocks a second later. 

“Y/N? Can we talk please?” You don’t say anything. “Come on, Y/N. Let me in. Or you come out.” You lean against the door but still don’t say anything. 

“I just want to know you’re okay,” he says more softly this time. 

“I’m fine,” you say, softly too. “I just need a second, okay? I’ll be out in a minute.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, just give me a minute.” 

“Alright, love, but just come back quick, alright?” 

You’re not even really sure what you’re doing in here. You just need to collect yourself, you guess. You fiddle with some stuff on the sink then find yourself looking in the mirror. 

An ugly thought arises, and you hate it, trying to push it away. It comes back anyway. 

She’s much prettier than me… 

That distorted inner voice doesn’t stop there. 

And better at being a girl.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you whisper out loud to yourself. “Completely ridiculous.”

You wash your hands even though you haven’t used the toilet, shaking your head, your gaze fixed on your hands. Then you go back out into the party. 

James is across the room, talking to Remus, but staring at the door you just came out of. As soon as he sees you, he pats Remus on the shoulder, saying something quickly, and starts moving toward you. 

He’s stopped in the middle of the room by a perfectly manicured hand on his chest. It’s attached to Jules, of course, and your glare hardens. You’re too far away to hear what she says to him, her hand lingering on him. 

James shakes his head a bit at whatever she’s saying, his eyes coming back toward you quickly. He gives her a glance again and a nod then his hand comes to her shoulder. You’re eyes are glued to where they connect, and so your gaze follows the motion of James’s hand gently pushing her body aside. A moment later, it detaches as he continues walking toward you. You haven’t moved when he reaches you.

“Hey,” he says simply. 

“Hi,” you return. You look away from his face, shy and confused about what to tell him. 

His hand gently guides your chin back up, and you lose yourself in his beautiful eyes for a second. He gives you his warmest smile, and you give him a pitiful but sincere one back.

“You wanna talk about what the hell just happened?” he laughs lightly. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you try. You’re not sure you want it to be, but you’re too embarrassed to explain and would take any option that meant you didn’t have to. 

“Actually, it wasn’t,” he chuckles. “When you got weird, I thought it was just because you didn’t want to come tonight,” he starts. “But I still didn’t understand the specific… I don’t know, kind? of weird you got.” His lips quirk into a teasing-adjacent smile here, but your face immediately contorts in embarrassment. You cover it with your hand, but James quickly removes yours with his. “Hey, hey, no, sorry. I’m sorry. It’s alright, lovely.” He caresses your hand he’s still holding. “I’m not teasing, okay?” He smiles at you, and you just keep watching him, but your face relaxes a bit. “Then,” he exhales dramatically, “Remus asked me how you reacted to that girl flirting with me right in front of you then calling you my sister.” He grimaces. 

Thank God for Remus, you think, the only emotionally aware man you’ve ever met.

“I hadn’t noticed the first part, sweetheart,” James adds. “The flirting part, I mean. I’m sorry, pretty girl. I mean, she didn’t know I had a girlfriend — clearly — but I would’ve just told her I did if that ball hadn’t hit us.”

“She was really into you,” you say before thinking, unsure where that’s supposed to take the conversation. 

“Was she? Huh.” He sounds slightly amused, but you know he’s acting to amuse you. 

“You really couldn’t tell?” you ask him. There’s disbelief in your voice, but you’re smiling a bit at him. He takes a step closer to you.

“I mean, I guess in retrospect, it makes sense,” he says honestly. “But I guess I’m out of practice,” he laughs. “And more importantly, I don’t care who’s really into me because I’m really into you, you silly girl.”

You exhale, your heart warming and most of your heavy emotions leaving you. You squeeze his hand, and shaking your head at yourself, bring it to rest on his chest. James chuckles into your hairline, kissing the top of your head and holding it close, his fingers interweaving into your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your mouth squished against him. 

You can feel him shake his head since he’s resting it on yours.

“No need,” he smiles. “I’m sorry. Was quite daft.” You laugh into his chest. You wipe away a tiny tear you’d been about to shed then rest your hand on his chest. The image reminds you, and you jolt upright, looking into his face again. He looks startled but amused. 

“What?”

“What was she saying to you? Just now?” You nod toward where they’d been talking. He laughs a full laugh. 

“She was telling me we should ditch this get together and go to her place.” He wiggles his eyebrows goofily. 

“Jamieee,” you scold, smacking his chest. He grabs hold of your hand and holds it to his heart, thumb caressing the back of it. His other hand still at the nape of your neck. 

“She was telling me,” he leans in conspiratorially, “‘sorry for not realizing your girlfriend was your girlfriend,’” he chuckles again. “I guess your little show worked afterward.”

“And what’d you say?”

“Does it matter?” It’s not harsh; he’s all warmth now. Knowing him, you realize he probably just doesn’t see the point of lingering.

“I just want to know,” you say.

“I said I didn’t care and it was fine or something.” He shrugs. “Can’t remember my exact words. Had more important things — a more important person — on my mind, to be honest.” He smiles at you. You smile back. 

“I love you,” you tell him. 

“I love you too,” he replies with a laugh as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “So much,” he adds, a bit more seriously, and kisses your forehead.

You just stand there, close to each other, your head back on his chest, his arms around you, for a few moments.

Then, leaning back to look at his face, you ask seriously, “Do you really?”

He looks confused by your question, its sincerity. “Of course I do. I adore you. You don’t know that?” His question has more than a tinge of hurt under it. 

“No,” you chuckle. But before he can get the wrong idea, you quickly continue, “Of course I know that.” You smile earnestly, and he seems comforted. “I mean, do you really not care? That she couldn’t tell I was your girlfriend?” Your voice grows softer and softer as you ask, and it’s a mere whisper by the end.

“No, sweetheart,” he smiles. “I don’t. I know. And you know. Who cares what other people think?”

“I did,” you scold yourself. “I’m sorry I got so weird. I just… I got really insecure about being just like Sirius or Remus to you. I know I’m just one of you in some ways —“

He cuts you off, “Yeah, baby, you’re one of us in some ways, but not in every way. The four of us, we have something special,” he nods. “But the two of us, we have something special too.” He tightens your embrace. “Seriously special. Yeah, we’re… what? friendly? sometimes. But, darling, you are not like Sirius or Remus to me.” He brings his hand to your face, caressing your cheek. “For starters, I don’t want to kiss Sirius or Remus, and they’re pretty good looking blokes,” he jokes. “And I don’t want to tell them about every single thing that makes me smile — just a lot of them — and about everything important in my life. I don’t need to make sure they’re happy and safe absolutely all of the time. I don’t feel warm and happy to be alive every time I look at them, and I don’t love cuddling with them at night, waking up to them in the morning. Not to even mention the other things that happen in that bed…” Now you laugh too.

“Yeah,” you nod, getting convinced.

“Yeah?” he pushes. 

“Yeah,” you say certainly. 

“Good.” 

You hum a warm assent.

“Now what do you say we ditch this get together and go back to our place?” 

You roll your eyes at him but laugh as you nod. 

“Yeah, let’s go home.” 

He’s nodding as he shifts his arm across your shoulders, kissing the top of your head and continuing to hold you close as you walk toward Sirius and Remus to say goodbye. 

“Leaving already?” Sirius complains, teasing you about being antisocial and lame. 

“Sorry, mate, but I really want to cuddle up with my girlfriend right now, and this doesn’t seem like the best place for that.”

“Ugh, so cheesy, Prongs. Just leave already,” he says, feigning disgust and pushing James away. 

“Good night, gorgeous,” Sirius tells you, kissing your cheek carelessly like he’s done a million times. Similar words, similar gestures, yes, you think, but they don’t feel the same at all. You smile.

“Good night, Siri,” you say. You and James hug Remus too. 

James puts his arm back around you as you go to leave. You smile up at him, then, mischief in your eyes, you push him away and walk faster. 

“You’re all sweaty, Potter. Gross.” He laughs and play chases you all the way out the door. 

Once you’re on the other side of it, enveloped by the welcoming quiet privacy of the night, he catches up to you and pulls you to him. You resist for only a moment, your laughter intermingling with his, then you melt into his embrace.

“C’mere, gorgeous,” James huffs, kissing you ardently. “Can’t wait to get home with you,” he whispers before kissing you again.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Please more of the slash x camgirl/OF girl I loved it 😭

A/n: Love camgirl prompts bc they let me unleash whatever weird ideas I have with toys

Warnings: Smut, age gap, camgirl!reader, use of toys, squirting, sex on tape, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Slash has never lived a calm life, he grew up in Hollywood, always surrounded by the busy busy of it all with his mother being a costume designer. As he got older he kept with such a hectic lifestyle, all though he'd recently begun to calm down.

Drugs and alcohol were out now, not so much partying because the drugs and alcohol were how he got through all the partying. How he stayed at home and rented out a portion of his room to quite possibly the most beautiful woman he's ever laid his eyes on.

It started when he ran into you while he was shopping, you were doing just the same but you weren't expecting him to be there, let alone come talk to you.

He offered to get you lunch and that's when you really got to talking, he asked you about your life, your career and such. Your face flushed pink, not because you were embarrassed of your line of work but just saying it to him.

"Only Fans..?" He repeated in a slightly confused tone. "Porn?" He clarified, a small smirk coming across his face. Not only had he found someone so hot, they had the perfect profession. "Are you any good?" He was such a soft spoken person, and you knew who he was but it was still funny to hear just how excited he was about such a thing.

He offered you a place a stay since housing was expensive and you were at risk of moving back in with your parents, which would effectively put you out of a job. You got a bedroom and a spare room for everything you'd need career wise, all just in his house. His only ask was for you to be 'comfortable'; in other words, not to be too shy about getting naked around him.

Rent was only five hundred a month and he asked you to do little things for him like getting groceries and cooking because he didn't like going out much and he wasn't the best chef, cleaning wasn't a crazy ask either but he helped you with that one.

It was a hard thing to turn down, obviously you couldn't and he quickly helped you move in. When you initially got there your setup wasn't anything crazy, a camera and laptop you'd had since middle school along with three toys you'd gotten -an average size dildo, nothing special about it other than the suction on the bottom, and two smaller vibrators. By now Slash had added to your collection by a lot, he'd send you out for groceries and tell you to pick yourself up a little something something on your way back, or you'd head into your little spare room to find a new toy all boxed up and sitting pretty waiting for you.

You liked the arrangement, nothing about it was too bad really, the only thing was asking finding you making breakfast in the morning and tugging on your clothes until they either came off or you took them off, even that wasn't too bad.

He let you sit in on him in his studio room -a dark room lined with foam so it didn't echo, filled with guitars. Guns wasn't making any more music but he had his other gigs, it was good for him to have you there and listen to him, to his process, or he'd bring you in later for a new set of ears.

You were editing clips you'd recorded the day before, sitting at the nice desk in the comfortable chair with your big setup, all of which Slash had gotten for you. A bang came at your door, you flinched at the sound.

"Are you in there?" Slash called, his voice much softer than the aggression in his knock.

"Yeah, I'm just editing some things." You replied, swiveling in your chair to look to the door. "You can come in."

There was a pause before Slash spoke again. "No, I, um, I can't, uh, you're just editing, right?" Slash was a soft spoken man with a lot more patience than anyone else you'd ever met, the way he spoke seemed much different than you've ever heard him and it worried you.

"Yeah, just editing." You said, getting up and walking over to the door. You opened it and saw him leaning against the door frame, a dark look in his eyes. "Is something wrong?" You asked, pushing the door open wider.

Slash shook his head, looking past you into the room. "No, I'm just tired..." He grumbled. You waited because you knew there was more coming. "Axl's just being difficult right now, I'm trying to get with my side things and he keeps trying to get me to focus on Guns, there's nothing to fucking focus on with Guns, I try telling him that and I just get shit, all this fucking shit." His words got faster as he spoke, annoyance and frustration growing.

He kept going, pushing off the wall and pacing back and forth. You watched, hoping maybe just talking would help him but it didn't, if anything it just seemed to make him more annoyed at everything. So, you decided to turn to different tactics.

"Slash." You called, leaning against the doorframe. He didn't hear you over himself so you tried again. "Slash." A little louder this time, still nothing. You stepped out in front of him and he finally stopped, going slack jawed as he saw your changed appearance; you took your top off, leaving you with nothing to cover his favourite part of you -or any woman.

He stared at you for a long moment, not bothering to hide where he was looking or the affect it was having on him, a bulge forming in his jeans. "Do you want to keep talking about it or do you want something to take your mind off of it?"

He thought about it long and hard before bringing his hands up to rest on your shoulders. "I have a lot of things that I want, and a lot more things that I can't have." He said softly, still not taking his eyes off your chest.

You nodded in understanding, taking his hands off your shoulders and leading him into the room. "Well, why don't you just come watch while I record some more for my page?" You offered, letting him sit in your chair.

He leaned back in the chair, legs spread, the creases in his jeans perfectly framing his hardening cock. "You're gonna record something?" He asked, to which you nodded. "You're gonna use that new toy." He said, framed as a question but given a commanding tone.

You hesitated before getting up and grabbing the unopened box off your shelf. Slash must've had a fun time finding this one -or rather these ones. He always like prefer to help small businesses over big corporations, he definitely had his favourites too.

A bunch of small colourful pinecones. There were three smaller ones, about an inch in diameter, and two bigger ones, roughly two and a half inches. The packaging had them surrounding a much bigger one, a plug about five inches tall but only about three inches wide.

They'd arrived about a week ago and you were hesitant to use them, the smaller ones you didn't think would do much, the biggest one scared you a bit. Your biggest worry was the remote which Slash grabbed once you'd opened the box.

"Strip and get your camera." He instructed, leaning further back in his chair as he looked over all the buttons on the remote. You hadn't tried the toys yet but you did open the box, cleaned them and put the batteries in.

You vaguely heard the sound of the vibrations from the toys, Slash trying out different settings, but he knew he wouldn't like it until they were in you.

You set up the camera at a good place, between Slash's feet and facing you. First you lined up all the toys from smallest to largest, letting the camera see what you were getting. Slash chuckled as he looked over the array. "You're gonna be so fucking fat with those, might as well be pregnant." You shot him a look, you wanted to look angry but the idea resonated something within him much too much, making you way hotter than you thought it would.

You leaned back against your one hand, legs spread for the best view. Slash palmed himself through his jeans as you pushed the first pinecone in, of course the remote control them all at once -with only six buttons to turn them on individually and the settings next to them. You wondered if an app would be easier but you'd written too far into this and didn't want to rewrite anything, so you kept going with the remote and hoped people understood.

You pushed one small pinecone in and Slash turned it on, watching your body relax before he ordered you to put in another and then he turned it on. The last small one went in, all three of them not whirring inside of you at a low pulse. Synchronized pulses of pleasure had moans fluttering past your lips and your head rolling back, legs pushing together with your knees pulled up so the camera could still see your quivering pussy.

"Think you can cum from this?" Slash asked, upping the vibrations to the next level, making your body jolt. He snorted. "Probably, huh? Grab the next one." You stared at him a moment before obeying.

You reached for one of the medium ones, pushing the tip to your cunt and slowly pushing it in with two fingers. The stretch alone made you moan, the texture was another level and you were feeling so full already, only three in and two more to go.

"Come on, pretty girl, you know what to do." Slash encouraged, grinning down at you, his jeans now undone and he was stroking himself slowly. Always he went commando. You picked up the second medium one and tried to push it in but your body tried pushing it out, back jerking and arching from the toys whirring inside you already. "You want some help with that?" You nodded before you could process what he was asking you.

Slash got off the chair and knelt down in front of you, handing you the camera. You pointed it down to your legs, expecting Slash to push the next one in. He leaned down and you watched him force it in with his tongue, a small bit of help from his thumb that followed it in to make sure it stayed put while he kissed your clit.

He gripped your ass tightly, fingers digging into the plush flesh. Your moans were loud and pornographic, echoing off the walls while you did your best to not clamp your thighs around Slash's head as he sucked on your sensitive little nub, puffy from neglect.

Slash licked a strip up your cunt and pulled his thumb back out, grinning at the whine it pulled from you. He sat back on the chair and gave his thigh a pat. "Sit on that one," he instructed, gesturing to the last toy -the plug. "And turn the camera to face the mirror." The whole back wall was a mirror.

He turned the toys off so you could get yourself situated, getting your seated in front of him and getting his cock into the back of your throat before turning them back on. You squeaked, he groaned as your throat constricted around him.

His fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your head up and down his thick length. Drool dribbled down your chin, tears filled your eyes and you clawed at his jeans for some kind of comfort. You'd never been this full before, you had bigger toys but this was much different. You'd never tasted him before, salty and bitter, a little soapy because he showered that morning.

He moved your head faster, his cock twitching down your throat indicating he was getting close. His low groans grew louder and his hips began rolling up to meet your lips, forcing your nose into his curly bush. You looked up at him, sure your eyes were crossing every time you inhaled his musk in the tangle.

Your throat squeezed him tighter with every moan and he looked down at you, adoring every part of your expression -the glazed and glassy look in your eyes, pure pleasure in every moan muffled by his cock, the way you took him so good.

The knot in your gut tightened, Slash gave you a small nod, letting you know it was ok to cum. You let go completely, vision going white and you suddenly felt less bloated.

Slash watched with an open mouth as you pushed out all the toys, a heavy gush hitting the wooden floors. Your hips bucked, tapping your clit on the ground. Your throat became much looser and Slash came into your mouth, filling it with his thick and salty seed.

He wiped his tip on your lips and slid off the chair, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you into his lap. "Oh, you're such a good girl... fuck, you really needed that, didn't you?" You were going to need several minutes before you got back to him, but he didn't mind. "My perfect little gusher... fuck, sweetheart... gonna need you to do that again."

[itsgivingmami]

part 2 of wait for me??? plz we need it😫

Listen… y’all been heard🫡🫣 sorry about the wait! Hope you enjoy, thanks everyone for all the love on part one!! (Which if you haven’t read it please do it’s linked at the bottom!)

Comments, likes and reposts are always appreciated!

Wait For Me(part 2)- Rhea Ripley

Warnings: stalking, use of a weapon against reader

WC: 2117

Don’t think this needs a part 3 but lemme know what y’all think 🤔

        "You're not asleep," Rheas voice is husky and thick with exhaustion, her nails scratch between your shoulder blades lightly. You were facing away from her and watching the clouds move out the window, trying to stay as still as possible.

     "Neither are you," you retort trying to keep the mood light although you know you're both thinking about what's been happening. You roll onto your back and look over at her, "and I'm not the one who had a wrestling match today,"

       You two lay in silence for a while wondering where to go from here, whether going back to "sleeping" or getting up and doing something else was a better choice. You're debating suggesting a movie when you feel Rheas hand slide under the sheet to grab yours.

    "I've never felt that before that," she whispers shakily and her grip tightens, "fear," she's laying on her back staring up at the ceiling, shaking her head as if sorting the thoughts as they come. "I mean I've been scared before but tonight was... fucking gutting I thought you-"

    The choke that cuts her off is something in all your years of friendship, you'd had yet to hear. Watching small tears fall down the sides of her cheeks you feel your stomach drop.

     "I'm sorry," you quickly lean on your forearms sitting up, " I should've waited for you," you try to wipe her cheeks but she gently grabs your wrists holding them still.

     "No," she shakes her head at you, "you shouldn't have to worry about some fucking creep," you nod gently when she stares at you, a more familiar Rhea coming back for a moment. "I just don't think I've ever felt fear like that before because," she takes a quick breath, sits up and wraps her larger hands around yours, "I don't think I've ever loved anyone like I love you,"

      "Love me love me?" You clarify and you see Rhea let out the breath she was holding and grins slightly before pulling her lips against her teeth.

     "Love you love you,"  she assures. You're struggling to find the words that make sense and overwhelmed by feeling you lean forward to kiss her and this time she meets you there. Her rings are cold against your jaw and she pulls you closer and the little gasps you're letting out at the way she's touching you is riling her too easily.

      Her other hand comes up to cradled your face as she leans backward and you fall forward onto her body. Goosebumps pebbled your bare arms as she brushed her finger tips up and down. She moves from your lips to kiss your cheeks and up the side of your face.

      "I love you," you softly rasp to her and she moves back to your mouth to press a rough kiss to your lips before pulling back,

    "Are you getting tired?"

   

     "No,"

                                                 ~

    When you wake up you're laying on a carefully placed pillow rather than the woman you'd fallen asleep on. Throwing the duvet off your legs you stand up and head towards the en-suite and open the door to an empty room. In a panic you make your way downstairs barely missing falling down the them before you make it to the living room.

     "Rhea?" She turns towards you, standing in front of the kitchen table with her arms crossed. Seated behind of her are two police officers, "what's happening?" She turns to the strangers and asks for a second before coming over to you. Her hands take hold of your hips and her thumbs trace shapes gently.

    "He sent another message," Rhea explained trying to stay calm for you but the underlying anger was evident in her eyes. 

    "Photo?" She nods and you walk past her towards your phone that sits open on the table, taking a moment before you realize you're looking at yourself sleeping yesterday. The nausea is violent and you brace yourself against the table, the female officer says something about pressing charges but you barely hear her. You feel watched and disgusting and you want to search Rheas house and take a shower to try and scrub away the feeling.

"Hey," Rheas hands meet your wait as she spins you to face her, "it's alright, you're safe with me until they go get that bitch in cuffs," her foul language makes you giggle shakily, eyes slightly tearing.

     "Once we report and have a warrant we'll placing him under arrest and you'll be notified once he's in custody," the officers says to you and holds out her card for you to take, her partner behind as Rhea goes to walk them out. You’re torn between going to searching the house and waiting for Rhea to come back.

You both were hoping that Rheas presence in your life would force this guy to cease and until this morning you were pretty sure the plan had worked and that Rheas panic last night had been residual worry. You feel sick as you realise she was exactly right and the short while you’d been without anyone else he’d managed to get to you. You stare down at your phone in disgust.

“I shouldn’t have gone through your shit,” you hear Rhea apologise as she walks back in, she redirects to the doorway where she unlatches the baby gate. “I was unpacking our bag and saw it and I just couldn’t-“

You gently place your hand on her arm and she trails off allowing you to speak, she’s certain you’re about to go off about privacy but as you stay silent she starts to worry.

“I don’t care about that,” you tell her, her T-shirt balls in your fist as you cling to her and she allows her body to be pulled against yours. “I feel disgusting,”

“Lemme run you a shower,” she suggests and her want to care for you isn’t unfamiliar but now that things have changed between you it feels deeper. You’re still hesitant and scenes from slasher fill your head. “I’ll stay with you,” she promises,

“I don’t know Rhe if you’re with me what about the house?” You question and she chuckles softly before looking behind you. You turn to see her dogs staring out the window at the world.

“I think they’ve got this,” Rhea reassures and Barry barks loudly as he spots a squirrel, you nod and allow her to escort you up the stairs. You two make it back to her bedroom where she pauses at the dresser, grabbing you some clean clothes to put on. There’s no doubt you’ve left stuff here over the years and you have some stuff in your bag but she takes this as an opportunity to see you in her clothes and the possessive part of her has been screaming since she saw that picture on your phone.

“Cmon baby,” she holds her hand out and despite all the things going on you blush at the pet name and take her hand.

~

That night you’re back at the performance center, watching Rhea do a promo on a small tv screen. Damian and Zelina have you firmly pressed in the seat between them but despite that you can’t help but look over your shoulder and stare at everyone who walks in the room. It had been hours and heard nothing from the officer you spoke to that morning.

“Your girls cookin out there,” Damian grabs your attention from the p.a you don’t quite recognize but there’s a tinge of familiarity and you brush it off. How many people worked here? It was impossible to remember them all. He’s right, she’s got the stadiums full attention and although you’re not really sure what’s she’s mad about you smile. Your girl. “Mics on fire,”

The three of you watch as she exits and once she’s clear from cameras her steps speed up, she barely misses smacking someone’s manager with the curtain as she rips it open and coming towards you brushes past the p.a in the room who sends her a glare over the shoulder. She’s relieved to see you where she’d left you, safely between her friends. At her arrival you stand to hug her and her strong arms pull you up until your feet just barely touch the ground.

“I’m okay,” you whisper as you notice she’s not letting you go. You give her a tight squeeze and look in her eyes, as you to stare you see the fear leave her face. “You looked hot out there,” you joke and she eases her hold finally, gently placing you back on the ground. You reach to grab her hands and get blocked by the hand mic she’s holding.

“Lemme hand this off,” she says and turns before stopping and looking back to you, “you look hot right now,” she winks and looks around. She’s no more than four feet away, Damian and Zelina maybe ten when your hair gets grabbed roughly and you’re pulled against a body you don’t recognise. There’s something cold against your throat and you still. Damian sees you first and goes to help,

“One more step and she fucking bleeds,” you hadn’t heard that voice in almost a week, not since you were across from it in a restaurant. Your wide teary eyes find Rhea, she’s standing ready to strike but holds still at the threat of your safety. Additional security floods the room and your assailants grip tightens around your middle, whatever type of weapon pressed at your neck pinches and cuts your skin. “Not so scary are you now big bitch,” he spits at Rhea and you see her fists clench at her sides, “she was supposed to be mine! I’m the one who loves her!”

The shouting is loud in your ears and you can feel spit landing on you. You’re looking anywhere for an escape but as no one in the room moves it’s clear to you that the danger you’re in is severe.

“You’re holding her hostage,” someone in the room throws out and you’re forced to back up as he does. You stumble backwards falling against his body. You wanted to scream and rip away at full force before meeting Rheas eyes. Her silent gaze tells you to stay calm and you try to trust her, she’s going to get you out of this.

“Me? I didn’t drag her from her home and force her to live with me!” For a moment you see Rhea waiver and her breaking makes you feel like you’re not getting out of this… unless maybe,

“Thank you,” your voice is shaky as you speak, worried about moving your skin across the blade. The room silences completely, little whispers of what to do and who to call ceases. “She made me stay with her,”

You’re trying to tell the man behind you, but your eyes don’t leave Rhea. Her brows furrow at your statement and you pray that after years of friendship she might be able to hear your silent words. At your “admission” you feel the man let go slightly and you take your first deep breath when the knife isn’t as close before sending as much force with your elbow backwards.

A flurry of movement happens around you and you fall forward onto your knees. Heavy boots pass you and you hear clinking sounds followed by the miranda rights. You don’t move, your brain still catching up and you shake in place.

“Thank god,” you hear Rheas voice as she hits the ground in front of you, her eyes move around your body looking for signs of injury and other than the small cut still letting out beads of blood you seem unharmed.

“I didn’t mean it,” you tell her, her voice jogging your brain forward as you remember what you just said. Your hands reach for her and she meets them immediately pulling you to straddle her knees. “I love you,”

“I know darlin I know,” she coos as she strokes your hair, allowing you to cry onto her shoulder. She couldn’t give less of a shit about her shirt, just relieved to have you back. She thought not being able to find you was the most fear she’d ever felt, just to be proven so wrong just now. Rhea pulls you to look at her, her hand encasing the side of your face. “That was smart pretty girl, almost had me fooled too,”

“But I love you,” you repeat and your hand comes to cup her own on your cheek, firmly keeping it in place and you press a kiss to her palm.

“I love you too, you’re safe with me now,”

[aceyalonso]

F1 drivers if they were on the r/AITAH subreddit

drivers : oscar piastri, lando norris, charles leclerc, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, max verstappen, george russell, franco colapinto

warnings/notes : jos verstappen 🤮

a/n : i know i said i was on hiatus but c'mon this was such a fun idea

main masterlist | taglist form

So this might sound weird, but here goes. My girlfriend and I (both 23) love visiting new places, and she’s a big animal lover. She found this adorable cat café nearby and has been talking about going for weeks. I wasn’t as excited but figured it’d be fun to surprise her, so I booked us a spot and thought I’d try to make it extra special.

Here’s the thing: I wanted to be "that guy" who shows up with a bag of cat treats so all the cats would flock to us. It sounds ridiculous, but my goal was to make her day. When we got there, I pulled out the treats and instantly had a few cats’ attention. My girlfriend laughed, but within a few minutes, an employee came over, looking annoyed, and told me I couldn't give the cats treats from outside.

Apparently, they have specific diets or something, and I was "interfering." I apologized, put the treats away, and thought that was the end of it. But soon after, another employee came up, saying we were being "disruptive" because all the cats were lingering around us, and they even hinted we might need to leave if it didn’t stop. I hadn’t meant to cause a scene and told them it wasn’t a big deal—we’d stop and just hang out like everyone else. But by this point, my girlfriend was pretty embarrassed, and it killed the vibe of our day.

We left a bit earlier than planned, and now my girlfriend thinks it was a bit of a jerk move, even though she appreciated the effort. I didn’t mean to upset anyone or break the rules, just thought it’d be fun to make the cats a bit more social. But now I’m wondering if I messed up by not sticking to the café’s way of doing things.

So, AITAH?

Edit: I’ve learned my lesson. I will never underestimate the dietary regulations of a cat café ever again.

So, I (24M) have this bad habit of forgetting what’s in my fridge. A while ago, I bought some chicken, but I totally forgot about it, and it just sat there for months. I was cleaning out my fridge the other day and found the chicken at the back, and it still looked fine to me—didn’t smell bad, didn’t look weird—so I thought, "Why not? It’s still good."

I cooked it up, had a nice meal, and didn’t think much of it. But then, later that night, I told my mom about it (thinking she'd just laugh), and she completely freaked out. She went on this whole rant about food safety, salmonella, and how I could’ve poisoned myself. I was just like, "It tasted fine, mom, calm down."

She kept texting me all night asking if I felt okay, if I was getting any stomach pains, and even called a few of my friends to check in on me. Honestly, I’m fine—nothing happened, and I feel perfectly normal.

But now she’s upset with me, saying I’m being careless and that I should never eat food that old, even if it seems fine. I just didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. I mean, people eat leftovers all the time, right? It wasn’t even that old.

So, AITAH for eating chicken that’s been in my fridge for 9 months and making my mom worry unnecessarily?

Edit: Just to clarify, I didn’t intentionally keep it for 9 months. I honestly just forgot about it in the back of the fridge. And no, I’m not sick. Everything’s fine. I promise I won’t be eating anything old again anytime soon!

I (27M) have a dog, Leo, who’s basically my best friend. He’s super friendly and well-behaved, and honestly, I just feel better when he’s around. I bring him everywhere I go – to cafes, parks, and friend gatherings. You name it, Leo’s there. Most people are fine with it because he’s adorable and loves everyone.

Recently, though, my friends have started making comments about it. Last weekend, we met up at this small, cozy café for brunch, and I brought Leo along. He just curled up next to my chair and didn’t bother anyone. But my friend Paul pulled me aside afterward and said it was kind of annoying that I kept bringing Leo without asking. He said not everyone wants a dog around all the time, and it’s “getting old.”

I don’t understand where this is coming from, especially since Leo’s never caused any problems. I figured since no one had said anything before, they were fine with it. Plus, I’m always careful to keep him out of people’s way, and he’s honestly better behaved than most dogs I know. I feel like they’re making a big deal out of nothing, but now I’m wondering if maybe I should have checked with everyone first.

So, AITAH for always bringing my dog? Should I have asked before assuming everyone was okay with it?

Edit: Just for context, Leo’s a small dog – not the type to jump on people or bark a lot. He just sits quietly and naps most of the time. Also, I’ve always cleaned up after him when necessary, so he hasn’t left any “souvenirs” for anyone to deal with.

So, I (39M) have this friend, Nico (also 39M), and we’ve been friends since we were kids. We’re both super competitive by nature, and we tend to push each other a lot. Whether it’s video games, sports, or even something like mini-golf, everything somehow turns into a competition between us. It’s mostly just for fun… until recently.

A few weeks ago, we were at a friend’s birthday party, and they had one of those racing setups in the living room. Of course, Nico and I immediately challenged each other, and we both got really into it. I mean, I might’ve been trash-talking a bit (okay, maybe a lot), but we were both laughing, so I didn’t think it was a big deal.

Well, I ended up beating him by a fraction of a second, and I might’ve celebrated a bit too enthusiastically—think victory lap around the living room, calling him out in front of everyone, the whole deal. After that, Nico got pretty quiet and didn’t talk to me much for the rest of the night. Later, a mutual friend told me that Nico felt like I was “rubbing it in,” and it embarrassed him.

Now I feel bad. I honestly thought we were just having fun and didn’t realize he’d take it so personally. I tried to apologize, but he just brushed it off and hasn’t really been himself around me since.

So… AITAH for taking things a bit too far with my friend, or was it all just part of the usual friendly rivalry?

Edit: We’ve always had this kind of back-and-forth, so I’m not sure why this time it got to him. Just thought I’d get some outside perspective before I bring it up with him again.

Okay, I know this sounds insane, but hear me out. I (30M) love making pancakes, and I’m pretty proud of my recipe. It’s become sort of a tradition to make them for my family when I visit my parents. They’re always really nice about it and say they love them, but... I’m starting to think they’ve just been too polite.

A few weeks ago, I was at my parents’ house and decided to whip up a big batch of pancakes for breakfast. My mom and dad both had seconds, and I thought it was a win. But later that night, my mom started having really bad stomach pains. We took her to the hospital, and she ended up needing surgery for appendicitis. It was a scary experience, but thankfully, she’s okay now.

Here’s where it gets weirder. Just a few days after my mom came home from the hospital, my dad started having the same symptoms. At first, we joked that it was sympathy pains, but he ended up in the ER too, with the exact same issue—appendicitis.

Now my whole family is convinced it was my pancakes. I know logically that my cooking can’t cause appendicitis, but I can’t help but feel responsible because they both got sick right after eating my breakfast. My parents keep joking that they’re never eating my pancakes again, and my siblings have been giving me a hard time about it, saying I’m banned from the kitchen.

So, AITAH for giving both my parents appendicitis with my cooking, or am I just an unlucky chef?

Edit: Just to clarify, I don’t actually think I gave them appendicitis, but the timing is very suspicious, and now my parents are scared of my pancakes. I might need a new family recipe...

So, I (27M) have two cats (Jimmy & Sassy), and they’re pretty much my babies. They’re super affectionate with me but can be a bit picky about who they like. My dad (52M), on the other hand, isn’t exactly a "cat person." He’s more of the “why do you have pets that don’t do anything useful?” type, but he still visits often and tolerates them because he knows they’re important to me.

The other day, my dad came over, and as usual, my cats were lounging on the couch. He decided to sit down and give them a little nudge to move over, but instead of just shuffling away, one of my cats (Jimmy) swiped at his face. It wasn’t a deep scratch, but it was enough to leave a red mark and get my dad pretty annoyed. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit because he was acting all grumpy about it, muttering something about "those spoiled cats."

He got even more annoyed when he saw me laughing and said I should discipline my cats better and not let them scratch people. I tried explaining that cats are territorial and react like that when they’re suddenly pushed, especially by someone they’re not used to. I offered him a band-aid, but he refused and ended up leaving earlier than planned.

Now my mom is telling me I should’ve been more sympathetic and that I should’ve scolded my cat instead of laughing. But honestly, I feel like it was just a normal cat reaction, and my dad knows how they can be. So now I’m wondering, AITAH for laughing when my cat scratched my dad’s face instead of taking it more seriously?

Edit: Just to clarify, my cats don’t usually attack people. They’re very cuddly with me and my friends, but my dad’s not around them enough for them to be comfortable. I’ll definitely make sure he approaches them differently next time... if he ever wants to come back!

So, this might sound a bit weird, but hear me out. I (26M) work at this company, and my boss, "Toto" (52M), and I have a really good relationship. We get along great, share a lot of common interests, and he’s been a bit of a mentor to me. We hang out outside of work sometimes, and every now and then, I’ll stay over at his place after we have dinner or watch a game, just because it’s more convenient.

Recently, my friends found out about this and started making fun of me, calling it “sleepovers” with my boss. I laughed it off at first, but they’ve started saying it’s kind of weird and unprofessional to be that close with your boss. They’re acting like I’m trying to suck up or get some kind of special treatment, but that’s honestly not the case. I just enjoy his company, and we have a good time hanging out.

The thing is, I never really mentioned it to my friends before because it just didn’t seem like a big deal. I figured if I told them, they’d blow it out of proportion (which is exactly what’s happening now). But now they’re saying it’s odd that I didn’t bring it up sooner and that it’s kind of strange to be having “sleepovers” with someone who’s technically in charge of me at work.

So, AITAH for not telling my friends that I sometimes crash at my boss’s place, or are they just overreacting?

Edit: For context, it’s not like I’m staying there every weekend or anything. It’s maybe once a month if we’re having a late night and it’s easier than going all the way back to my place. Plus, he’s got a massive guest room, so it’s not like I’m sleeping on the couch or something. It’s just a practical arrangement

Okay, so I (21M) have a bit of a problem, and I’m honestly not sure if it’s even a problem or just something I can’t control. I’ve noticed lately that whenever I’m doing interviews or talking to reporters, I end up coming off as flirting with them, even though I’m not trying to at all.

I’m naturally a friendly person, and I like to joke around and be engaging. But I’ve had a few reporters (and even some photographers) tell me after interviews that I’ve been “charming” or “too smooth” with them. Some of them even hinted that I was “leading them on.” The thing is, I don’t even notice it happening. I just talk to them like I would anyone else, but apparently, I’m making it seem like I’m flirting—without even trying!

One reporter even gave me her number after an interview, and when I asked if she was just being friendly, she said, “You were a little more than friendly.” I was totally confused because I thought we were just having a good conversation about racing. Now I’m worried that I’m giving the wrong impression to people without meaning to, and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or make things uncomfortable.

So, AITAH for accidentally flirting with reporters and leading them on when I really don’t mean to? Should I tone down my "natural charm"?

Edit: Just to clarify, I’m not trying to flirt with anyone, reporter or not. I’m just being myself, but it seems like it’s coming off differently than I intended. It’s a bit awkward now, and I’m wondering if I should change how I interact in interviews.

taglist

@nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii

@livsturnioloo @lilorose25 @si1ver06 @zestytimbit @morgrinha

@callsignwidow

[sunday-bug]

Congressman Barnes is trying to pass a proposal regarding military PTSD healthcare and when the reader doesn’t understand why it’s so personal to him he has to explain more about his past than he’d like to

platonic Congressman!Bucky x reader aide blurb for this one ☺️

"I just don't understand why you're working so damn hard on this particular proposal, Congressman. You're putting all your eggs in one basket here," you say, gesturing to all the paperwork and research strewn across Bucky's desk.

Bucky huffs and sits back in his chair, locking eyes with you and crossing his arms, glaring sternly.

"Sorry, sir, there are just a lot of other proposals we need to get through," you clarify, holding up a large stack in your arms.

"Well, they can wait. This one is important," he asserts. "Set the others on the filing cabinet. I'll get to them when I get to them."

You press your lips into a tight line, not wanting to cross a line, but also knowing that you are responsible for helping Congressman Barnes meet his deadlines. You put the stack of policy proposals on the filing cabinet and sit in one of the chairs across from Bucky.

"You'll need to get through them by the end of the week, sir," you stress, wringing your hands in your lap.

"I said I'll get to them when I get to them," he grumbles, brow furrowing in frustration before going back to work on the proposal he's spent way too much time poring over.

"What's so important about this proposal anyway?" You ask, exasperated with his stubbornness.

Buffy huffs again, clearly annoyed with you, "You really don't know much about me, do you?"

"Sir?" You swallow, not sure what he means by that.

"What do you know about me? About my past?" He stares at you, waiting.

You don't say anything, just shrug slightly, a flush heating your cheeks from embarrassment.

"I... I took this job because you were the first person to hire me. I just needed steady work, sir," you explain quietly, barely making eye contact with him. "I should have, um... researched more about you. I apologize."

Bucky's gaze softens a bit, like he realizes he was coming on too strong, "No, no, it's okay. I'm... I'm sorry. This is just important to me. That was rude." He sighs deeply before standing up and walking around his desk to sit in the chair beside you.

You look up at him, still a bit wounded.

"I'm a veteran," he explains. "I went through... a lot, frankly, that we don't have to get into, but healthcare for veterans and PTSD policy is extremely important to me. It's part of who I am, and I want to fight to make sure that anyone else that's gone through Hell and back is able to come home and seek refuge... find peace... just be."

You nod, reaching out to touch his clothed arm gently, "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't know. I understand how this is near and dear to you now. It's a worthy cause, absolutely."

"Yeah, it is," he agrees stoically, gazing out the window with a wounded expression.

"And sir..." you start, swallowing, not wanting to overstep, "if you'd ever like to tell me more about it, I would love to listen. I know I'm your aide, but I could also be a friend if you need one."

His eyes flit back to you and he gives you a soft smile, "Thank you, but some of the things I've seen... the things I've done... it's too much for you to hear about." He stands up and moves back to the chair behind his desk.

"Whatever happened, you're a good man, Congressman Barnes," you nod curtly. "You can spend your whole life ruminating on the past or you can do your best to affect positive change for the future. I can see what you're doing now, and I think you can feel it, too."

Bucky looks at you again, but this time his eyes have widened a bit, "Thank you," he says, quietly tacking your name on at the end.

"You're welcome, Congressman. I wouldn't work for someone I didn't believe in."

-the end-

Taglist: @ruexj283 @sebastianstan0813

[jupiter-va]

To Clarify:

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free and if you disagree with that statement in any capacity fuck you, I will block you. Matter of fact, unfollow me! I haven't really gotten the chance to make a full statement about this on this platform because I've been busy, and I apologize for that, but I had the time to go through my following today and I realized that I definitely needed to block some motherfuckers.

While I'm here, fuck Neil Drunkmann and everything he stands for. I enjoy TLOU, and while I can't take back any purchases that I made in regard to the game before I knew he was a fucking Zionist, I will not be buying anything else. Fuck that remaster. I'm glad that multiplayer got canceled. I won't stop making the audios that I do, but I just wanted to make it clear that while I still enjoy the fan content and the community that enjoying the game has given me access to, I in no way plan to support literally anything that man does, now or in the future. Anyone supporting the literal genocide of a people is a horrible fucking person and I'm atheist, but I strongly believe that you will rot in the pits of Hell if you think that any of what the Israeli government/the IDF is doing is okay.

And please don't come to me with that "Oh why are you being political" bullshit. This is a straight up violation of humans rights. And if you expected a black lesbian sex worker to be anything but political/socially aware, I don't know what to tell you. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[enby-jellyfish]

Baby Blue

Prologue of My Babysitter's an Assassin

Silco X GN!Assassin!Reader & Child!Jinx (POC friendly)

Pronouns: You/Your

Summary: Silco gives you a new, unexpected, mission.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 578

A/N: Baby Jinx my beloved <3

The Last Drop is eerily quiet when you enter, making you wonder if you’re even in the right place. There’s no music, the lights aren’t on, and it’s utterly abandoned. There is absolutely no trace left of the warm atmosphere that used to make this place so inviting. The floorboards creak as you make your way through the building, up the stairs, and down the hall.

The first thing you notice when you enter Silco’s new office is the darkness. You’d think someone with only one fully functioning eye would want at least some light while working so late. The second is that he’s moved quick with redecorating. There is already some furniture that you’re sure wouldn’t have been within Vander’s taste. Silco’s chair is turned facing the large window behind his desk, the large backrest blocks him from your view, but you know he’s there.

You close the heavy door behind you and move further into the room. “Did you do as I asked?” Silco’s smokey voice breaks the silence. “I did.” You walk over to the desk and plop a dirty bag with a severed hand inside on the wooden surface.

“Payment is on the desk. Help yourself.” He spoke, still not turning around. You look and find a decently heavy pouch that makes a clinking noise when you pick it up with a huff. “So informal tonight. What’s got you brooding more than usual?”  You tease, opening the pouch to count your payment.

Silco then finally turns around, revealing a skinny child with blue hair asleep on his lap. You blink. “Huh. I didn’t take you for the kind of man to go around picking up strays.” You don’t know how to react, in all your years working for him, you’ve never seen him be soft. “I’m not.” He argues.

“And yet she’s here.”

“And yet she’s here.”

It’s silent for a moment, both of you trying to figure out what to say next. “She was Vander’s.” He’s told you about Vander, their history together. He also shared that he had plans to work together again to make their dream of Zaun a reality.

“I take he didn’t join you then.” The heavy atmosphere says it all. “He’s dead. Along with the rest of her family.” Silco tries to hide it, but he sounds mournful. “A pity. Though good things don’t last down here, do they?”

Silco ignores your attempt to sympathise with him. “I have another job for you.” You straighten up, surprised. He doesn’t usually send you out again so soon after a hit. “Who?” You ask. “Her.” He answers. “What?”

“I need you to help me with her.” He clarifies. Yeah, that makes more sense. “How? I’m not exactly babysitter material Silco.” You argue. “You’ll do. I don’t trust anyone else, and however bad you may be with children, Sevika is worse.” You snort. “She is.”

You take the sight of him in for a second. It’s strange to see him try and fit into a parental role. He clearly cares for this little girl, however skewed his reasonings for doing so might be. He needs help. You agree.

“Good. Come back tomorrow. Eight o’clock.” If you didn’t know him as well as you do, you wouldn’t have noticed the subtle way the weight gets lifted off his shoulders. “Got it, good night.” He nods but doesn’t give a vocal response as you leave his office.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Next part (TBC)

Masterlist

Thank you for reading <3