#james calls his partner Love

[beewithknee]

of heart and home

day 7 of redactober :D

(18+) james/spouse fluff + smut

A sharp knock rang through their house and they froze. Scarcely breathing, they ducked below the eyeline through the window and crept toward the front door.

Sure, they didn’t live in the least-safe area possible. But it was going on 1am and their instincts were haywire.

It was times like that, where they found themself longing for James the most. Times where their husband would’ve swept them up into his arms and sheltered them from the harm.

They weren’t weak, not by any means, but there was something so special about being able to hide with another, knowing you were safe as long as they were by your side.

Their longing ran core-deep in those moments.

Creeping to the front door, they paused only to grab the bat that resided beside it before flicking the lock.

“I am armed. I’ve got the police on speed dial. Leave this property now.” They warned, voice remaining steady despite their inner turmoil.

“Uh, I’m just here to deliver a pizza. It’s a large cheese for a [Name]. Is that you?” The timid voice they heard was their local pizza guy. They adored him; he was a stocky little man who always got a large tip for being on time.

They dropped the bat, “Oh shit. Sorry Guy. Just, it’s late and I didn’t order a pizza.” They rushed to explain, opening the door wide enough to see the pale man.

He hummed in consideration, “Odd. Well, I’ve got something else too but it’s a little heavy. Can you help me bring it in?” He smiled politely. They immediately agreed, propping the door and opening their arms to share the load of Guy’s delivery.

They looked down, expecting a box on the ground, when two black Oxfords entered their view.

“Hey Love.”

They stopped dead, hands falling and eyes going wide.

Shakily, their gaze rose back up to his. “J-James?” They needed confirmation that this wasn’t some twisted dream.

“It’s me. I’m home.” He smiled, eyes watering and grin so wide. They moved in a flash, body jumping into the security of their husband's arms without second thought.

Taking his face into both hands, they studied all the new eyebags, stress lines, and burst blood vessels that told a tragic tale. They studied him long and hard.

His eyes searched theirs too, finding the loneliness to be so obvious. It hurt his soul. Knowing his job and he, himself, had caused that. James swore then and there to do whatever he had to, to ensure his spouse never felt that way again.

Leaning in, James kissed them. It echoed of unspoken words and mended bonds. Their lips met in just such a way that it resparked that fire.

A loud bang behind them indicated that Guy had left.

Neither of them paid it any mind.

James’s hands immediately found their waist, squeezing hard. He groaned in appreciation at the softness he felt. After so long dealing with such hard, unbending, unfeeling objects, it was a godsend to have his pliable lover beneath his fingertips.

“Bed?” He panted out as they separated.

“Bed.” They agreed, grinning down at him. Fuck, they’d missed him more than words could describe.

The two stumbled their way into the room, bodies collapsing on one another. The movements were rushed, but no less tender. James worked both of them out of their clothes, hands roaming the newly exposed skin.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I left.” He whispered, peering up at them through long lashes. They smiled sadly, finding his hand and placing a sweet kiss to it.

One that spoke of forgiveness.

He pulled their bodies together; their core was hot. Too hot. James knew he wouldn’t last.

“Can I?”

They nodded, “Please.” He sucked two fingers, lining them up and pushing in steadily. There was only a little resistance.

“Has someone been having fun without me?” His voice was dark as he crooked his fingers upward, eyes lighting as their body convulsed with pleasure.

“Mhm, missed you. Used the toy- ah, you bought. Your size.” They admitted, moans breaking up their sentence. His deft fingers paused at those words, hands shooting down to grab the base of his cock.

“Fuck, Love. You cannot say shit like that if you want me to fuck you tonight.” The words were deep, almost a growl. It made their lower stomach throb in excitement.

“Then hurry up and fuck me, James. Don’t make me wait any longer.” It was a mean tactic, and they both knew it.

James surged forward, body bracketing theirs entirely as he kissed them like a starved man. He was starved. It’d been close to two years without physical contact from his partner. He never wanted to do that again.

They remained face to face as James slowly pushed his way in. Their body accepting him in the most intimate way. His cock throbbed in their hole, and he groaned deep.

“Fuck baby- oh god. You feel so fucking good.” He bit their neck, sucking a dark red mark to stake his claim.

Pulling their hand away from their mouth, he joined it with his above their head. The gold rings struck one another and the pair looked at their joined hands.

It was a beautiful sight.

James thrust in hard and slow. Using his full weight, he forced himself to hit their spot every time. Their eyes rolled back, body shaking under the long-forgotten feelings.

“James, James, James-” They chanted, head tossed back, unable to maintain eye contact. He chuckled, letting their hand go to wrap around their waist.

The momentum forced him deeper, the pleasure twisting both their minds.

“Fuck, you’re like a fucking vice. God, I missed this. I missed you.” He swore, kissing his way across their sweaty chest. Their orgasm caught them off guard, too wrapped up in the other’s feelings.

Love came hard, body locking James in. His hips stuttered. “Cum for me James.” They moaned into his ear. The new-found tightness was too much and he collapsed onto them as he came in tandem.

They often thought the aftermath of sex to be disgusting. Too much cum. Too much sweat.

But as James rolled them over, pulling out but keeping them close to his chest, they found it beautiful. Their heavy breathing became softer, both bodies falling in sync with their breaths.

Love’s hand toyed with their husband’s wedding band, pressing a kiss to the now-warm metal.

“I missed you so much.” Tears clogged their throat, a familiar constriction weighing down the words. “I missed you too. I’m sorry I was gone for so long.”

He kissed the top of their head, arms forcing them to remain flush against him. In that embrace, all sweaty and hot, both lovers were reunited happily. James swore he’d do whatever it took to keep his partner just like that.

“You’re home now.”

"I'm home." They both knew he wasn't just talking about the house.

[starlitangels]

Parental Problems

The James brainrot continues 1.9k words

—

“Have you spoken to your mother recently?” I asked as James and I folded laundry together. Usually when he got back from a job that took him away for weeks or months, I’d unpack his suitcase and throw everything in the laundry. He was often too jetlagged to think about laundry, so I usually just did it for him. This time, though, he’d snapped back quicker than usual and had enough energy to help me fold his stuff.

His expression immediately soured. “Nope,” he replied. “I don’t keep in contact with anyone but you when I’m away. Why?”

“I got a text from her yesterday, asking how you were. I said you were on a business trip but last I’d heard you were fine.”

James “Hmm”ed and aggressively folded a pair of suit trousers before draping them over the bottom bar of a hanger and putting it in the closet. The expression on his face remained sour.

I sighed and set down the socks I’d just rolled into a bundle next to the other sock bundles. “James,” I said softly. “How long are you going to keep doing this?” I reached out and cupped his face in my hand.

“Doing what?”

I glared—briefly. “I don’t think it’s healthy for you to keep not telling your parents about your powers. I love you and I love that we get to share in your powers. I love hearing your voice in my mind. It’s intimate. But… I’m the only one who knows from your life in the unempowered world before you went to the academy. Don’t you think your parents should know you’re a Telepath?”

He pretended to think about it. “No,” he said quickly, shaking his head in dismissal.

“Baby… this kind of distance between you and your parents isn’t good for you. Not when you used to be so close.”

“Things change.”

I made a face and hung a button-up on his side of the closet. “I know that. I just… I know your mom worries about you.”

James exhaled sharply. “And you can also guess how badly she’d explode if she found out that I have magic.”

“Maybe she wouldn’t. You're her son.”

James raised a brow, expression turning sarcastic. “Love,” he said, “try to remember that this is the woman who thinks the theory of evolution is government propaganda and this planet only came into existence six thousand years ago.”

I opened my mouth as though to protest, paused, and shut it. James snorted.

“Exactly,” he said.

I sighed. “I just… I think she can tell that you’re keeping a secret from them.”

James shrugged, tossing the pile of sock bundles into his sock drawer. “Tough.”

“James…” I reached out and gently took his hand. “You know I don’t want to pressure you. I’m not trying to force you to do something you’re not comfortable with. If you say you’re never going to tell your parents about your magic, then I’ll leave it. I just don’t want you to drive a wedge between them that you didn’t mean to put there and ruin your relationship with them.”

He lifted a hand and brushed the backs of his fingers down my face. “I know,” he said softly. “But telling them would drive an even deeper wedge between us than keeping it a secret and distancing myself from them a bit because of it.” He kissed my forehead. “I know you’re just looking out for me—and I appreciate and love you for it. But I know my parents a little better than you do. And I know they wouldn’t take finding out about magic well.”

I nodded. “Okay. I'll leave it alone. I just wanted to make sure. We’ve never really talked about it.” I kissed his cheek and went back to folding laundry.

“I know. And thank you.”

—

“So, James,” his mom said across the dining table, taking a sip of what must have been her fourth glass of wine. More than usual. I wondered how badly the night was going to go by that fact alone. “Why do you never talk about your work?”

James finished chewing and swallowing before answering. “Mom, I’ve told you. I work contracts with the government on classified assignments. I can’t talk about work.”

His mom narrowed her eyes at me and wagged her fork in my direction. “I bet you know, don’t you? As his partner.”

I shook my head. “Not really. All I really get to know is when he’s leaving, how to stay in touch with him, and when he’s coming back. Usually. Sometimes things get extended or canceled.” I chuckled. “I mean, thank goodness we’ve got friends and neighbors willing to pick him up from the airport when his schedule changes and subsequently his flight does too and I end up still being at work when he gets home.”

James’ dad sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know why you chose to work for the government, son,” he said, looking out the window. “I mean, you got a business degree. You could have done so much better for yourself than working for the government.”

James shrugged. “Not really. The pay is really good and the benefits are excellent.” Don’t mention I didn’t end up getting the business degree, James added in my mind.

I wouldn’t. You know that, I replied.

His mom made a face and glanced at her husband. “Honey—” She hiccuped. “Honey, they’re doing that thing again where they talk to each other with their faces.”

His dad just chortled. “After how long they’ve known each other, I’d be more surprised if they couldn’t just make a face and know what the other was thinking.”

James cleared his throat and didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

I got up from the table and held a hand out for James’ now empty plate. He handed it to me. I took his and mine to the kitchen and started rinsing them off to put in the dishwasher. Over the running of the sink and clinking of dishes and cutlery, I couldn’t tell if they were still talking in the dining room; and the wall that separated the two rooms, conjoined by an archway, did nothing to help me.

I set the plates in the dishwasher and shut the door to it.

Stay in the kitchen, James warned.

What’s going on, baby?

Mom’s wine-drunk and getting belligerent.

That was about the moment I realized I could hear James’ mom trilling in a high-pitched voice. “—do so much better, James,” she was saying. “I mean, I know you love your partner and the two of you have been friends for years, but son—you don’t have to settle!”

Stunned silence followed. I recoiled from the words but stayed where I was in the kitchen.

“I didn’t settle when I chose to enter a relationship with them, Mother,” James retorted sharply. “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve them. Do you know how difficult my job has been for them? We don’t see each other for weeks at a time—sometimes even longer—and they’ve sacrificed so much to keep loving me.”

“I’m just sayin’,” his mom slurred. “I know they’re your best friend from school and all but—”

“Mother, please don’t finish that sentence,” James interrupted. I heard the creak of a wooden dining chair and the clinking of more flatware. A moment later, James crossed the archway, holding his parents’ plates. He handed them to me when I reached out for them.

With a heavy sigh, he braced both hands against the counter and hung his head while I rinsed off the plates.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

I shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ve suspected for years that she didn’t relish the idea of the two of us being together the way we are. Best friends through school is one thing, life partners is another.”

He glanced at me with melancholy in his face and reached up, holding the back of my head. “Her words don’t mean anything to me,” he whispered. “You mean more to me than anything. I meant every word I said.” He rested his forehead to mine, just keeping me close, not seeming to mind my damp hands brushing against him.

“I know, baby,” I whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too. So much.”

I nuzzled against him. “You can come in, if you want,” I said softly. “Stay in my mind. I know it comforts you.”

I couldn’t feel his magic enter my mind, but I saw his shoulders visibly lower like tension evaporated out of them.

—love you— —thank you— —don’t deserve you—

I cupped my hand under his chin.

None of that, I thought. We chose each other. There’s no “deserve” in it. I love you too. That’s all there is to it, for me.

In the dining room, I could hear James’ dad talking quietly and his mom being loud. I did my best to ignore them.

James reached up and cradled my face in both hands. Ready to go home?

Done being here?

I don’t think I can stand one more second.

Okay. We’ll go home, I thought.

He closed his eyes and nodded. His hands slid down and took both of mine. “Let’s get out of here.”

I followed him to the dining room. “Thank you for dinner. We’re gonna be off,” I said—to his dad mostly.

“Don’t you want to—hic—stay for dessert?” his mom asked.

James’ mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Thank you, but we really do need to get going,” I said before James could. “I’ve got an early start tomorrow.” I squeezed his hand and pulled him toward the door where our shoes were. He barely looked at his parents as we got our shoes on.

Once we were out of the house and into the car, James eased out again.

“I was this close to telling her to shut up in here.” He tapped his forehead with one hand as he twisted the keys in the ignition with his other hand. “I love my mom but oh my God she’s bad when she’s had too much to drink.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I said as he backed out of the driveway and we headed for home.

“No—love—I’m sorry. I’m sorry she said that about you. I’m sorry you had to hear it.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, James.”

He glanced at me when we pulled to a stop at a stop sign. “Can you see why I don’t want to tell them about my powers?”

“Your dad probably wouldn’t react much at all. Outwardly. But yeah, your mom wouldn’t… wouldn’t take it well.” I rubbed at his shoulder. “And I’m sorry for pushing you about it.”

“Don’t be sorry. I understand your thoughts behind it.”

“I think you just understand my thoughts in general,” I teased.

He snorted and shook his head. “Left myself wide open for that one.”

“Just a little bit.”

He took my hand and kissed it before returning his own hand to the wheel. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Thank you. For being understanding.”

“I do my best.”

[buckyalpine]

Soft subby reader jealous stroking bucky

CEO Bucky x Jealous Secretary reader - slutty thot - making dom Bucky a needy slut for you.

Imagine being the soft, quiet little secretary of the very handsome James Barnes. What started off as a professional relationship quickly turned into something else once the sun had set and everyone left the office. No one know about the way he love the toy with your body to his liking, about how well you responded to him once the doors were locked.

James Barnes who had to stuff his tie in your mouth to keep your moans quiet, shoving his fingers deep down your throat while he railed you with his cock. His warm tongue would lick up your tears while you milked him dry with your needy, tight cunt. No one would ever guess such a shy little quiet thing would be a cockdrunk bunny on the inside, practically humping yourself on his thigh once his meetings were over, drooling and nursing off his cock under his desk when he was on calls.

****

You took another long sip from your drink, watching a red head trace a long, sharp manicured nail up Bucky's chest, giving him a flirty smile which he smirked back to. She was a prospective investor, one of the few people on the VIP list in attendance for the yearly company gala. Bucky threw her a charming laugh, clinking his glass with hers to something she said, the red head now resting her hand higher, stroking the expensive fabric of his suit.

This was the James Barnes who would pick you up from your desk and throw you over his shoulder when things didn't go his way, fucking his frustrations out with his hand slapped over your mouth, jaw clenched with his heavy balls slapping your clit with each thrust. James Barnes who would fill you up with so much cum, it would drip and make a mess on your skirt, making it impossible to stand up once he plopped you back onto your chair. James Barnes who loves what a secret little slut his secretary is. Such a quiet, sweet kitten who was too innocent for her own good.

The very James Barnes everyone wants and he damn well knows it.

And loves it.

So here he was, biting his lip and cocking his brow suggestively while the woman stood tall with poise, leaning over to whisper in his ear, making your cheeks grow hotter with each passing minute. You weren't aware making business deals with new partners involved wanting to eye fuck them in the process.

You downed another glass of bitter liquid, no longer able to ignore the surges of jealously that pulsed through you. You had no business being jealous or possessive but you couldn't help it, seeing him pull the same charm he used with you, even if the context was different. You missed the way his eyes glanced over to you each time you looked away; he grinned on the inside with the soft flare of your nostrils and the clench of your jaw.

The last straw for you was when he whispered something in her ear, her eyes growing wide in response, a crimson flush covering her face.

"Sir" You strode over, rolling your shoulders back, ignoring the woman, only keeping your eyes on him, "There's a call for you in the office, its urgent"

It was clearly a lie, he knew it, as did you but you didn't care. Bucky smirked at you, cocking his head to the side curiously while you continued to stare at him, waiting for him to follow you. The woman coughed, hoping to break the tension between you both, unamused at the way Bucky's attention was completely on you.

"Aren't you the secretary, shouldn't you cover the calls-

You didn't bother letting her finish, slipping your hand into Bucky's and pulling him away towards the large elevators, the brunette letting you take him wherever you so well pleased, curious about what you'd do. You were just a soft little bunny.

"What is it kitten" Bucky smirked at the scowl that tugged your lips.

"I didn't know your business ventures required flirting with new partners" you kept your voice steady, fighting against the alcohol that was coursing through your body.

"Are you jealous" he smirked, letting you drag him away from the crowd, shoving him into the elevator.

"What's there to be jealous of" you shot back, the fire in your belly growing stronger the more he taunted you. Bucky's cock grew harder and the change of your demeanor, your possessiveness making his tip weep.

"No need to be angry bunny, look at you acting so needy" Bucky tsked while the elevator doors opened to the top floor. The grip you had on his hand tightened as you both went into his large office which overlooked New York. You clicked, while he leaned against the doors with a cocky smile, arms crossed against his chest. His cockiness took a hit when you glanced down at the way his length strained against the fabric of his pants, just as needy as you were, if not more.

"You were acting like a whore, sir" You shrugged while letting your finger trace over the outline of his erection, pressing where the tip leaked through his slacks.

"Don't tease m-

"Please" You caught him off guard, grabbing his tie and tightening it around his neck just enough to make his breaths heavier, "Now tell me what you want"

"Play with my cock" Bucky swallowed thickly, his control slipping when you unbuckled his pants, his cock springing free, begging to be touched. You took a step back, humming at the sight of him; not a single wrinkle on his pristine suit, not a hair out of place, his beard trimmed, lustful eyes boring back at you. He looked so pretty with his cock out, waiting for you to do something, his dominant side faltering in confusion.

"Why don't you ask her to play with it, sir" you cocked your head to the side like he did, waiting for him to answer, his cheeks flushing. "Hm?"

"Want you to play with it" His voice was a whisper pushing his hips forward, showing you exactly where he needed you.

"You want me to play with your cock baby, it that it?" You cooed, tapping the tip with your index finger and pulling away slowly, letting the string of precum stretch before popping your finger into your mouth. "You're so wet" You hummed at his taste, stating the words he'd always throw at you before tracing circles onto his sensitive head again, smearing his arousal around without actually stroking him.

"Fuck" Bucky hissed, nearly slumping again the door while you teased him, biting back the moans that were lodged in the back of his throat. You wrapped your hand around his thick length without actually moving, squeezing the base of his cock.

"What is it kitten" you sneered, mimicking his words from earlier, smirking at the way his cock throbbed in your hand in response. "Look at you" you whispered, "Oh sweet boy" You cooed again, this time moving your hand to cup his full, heavy balls, rolling them in your palm, "They've so heavy, does it hurt?"

"Hurts so bad" He moaned when you tugged them and squeezed them while nipping his neck. You lazily wrapped around his length again, giving him long languid strokes, watching his face twist with desperation for more. Bucky felt like a teenage boy, thrusting into your hand, struggling not to blow while you continued to jerk his cock, his hips rolling to fuck your fist. He felt like he'd never been touched before, this being the first time someone had ever taken control over him and it was something else, especially when it was you.

"Mmmph" He whined, confused and aroused at the same time, desperate for more of your delicious torture, his dom side slipping even more. He tried to regain his bearings, standing straight up again, sucking in a breath, "So jealous-

"So desperate" You tutted, smacking his cheek for opening his mouth while rubbing and stroking his shaft, ignoring his tip completely.

"C'mon bunny, touch me" He was breathless, chasing your hand each time he got close to getting the tip into your palm, groaning when you moved away.

"I am touching you, aren't' I?"

God, he loved you like this.

"The tip- please, need you there, c'mon, please"

A wicked idea sparked in your mind, pulling him by his tie to stand in front of the floor to ceiling high windows that overlooked the city. The same windows he'd fucked you against countless of times, letting the world see you fall apart. Now it was your turn.

Bucky could feel his heart hammer against his chest standing in front of the window, the city twinkling below him while you stood behind him, your hand coming around his waist to grasp his cock. Bucky's hands flew to the window, splayed wide to hold himself up, fucking his cock into your hand, hardly in control of his movements.

He pulled back enough so the head of his cock would rub against your palm before pushing forward again, chasing his orgasm, unable to take his eyes off the way his fat cock slipped in and out of you smaller hand.

"S'good to me bunny, need you ta' squeeze my cock harder, c'mon, need you bunny, I need you" He practically whimpered for you, balling his hands into fists when you complied with a hum, moving your hand with his movement, adding more pressure, feeling his cock grow harder.

"Gonn'a c-cum" Bucky stuttered out while you kissed his neck, letting him continue to fuck your hand, his tip nearly touching the cool glass with how fast he was moving. "Oh God-"

"Such a pretty, fat cock, you're making a mess baby, are you gonna cum in front of everyone and show everyone who you really belong to?" You whispered, only getting a slutty, guttural moan back in response. "Go a head baby, make yourself cum, show everyone you're mine"

"OH FUCKKKK" Your words tossed him over the edge, a pornographic moan slipped past his pink lips as he started to paint the windows with thick spurts of his cum. His body trembled, shivers running down his spine as his balls seized against his body, still feeling full as ever.

"Oh god, I can't stop" Bucky wrapped his hand on top of yours, jerking himself off faster, working up to a second orgasm, angling his hips to shoot at the window again, his head thrown back, nearly falling onto his knees. "C'mon, make me cum again, pleaseplease-

You pushed him back onto his large chair, pulling your dress up and panties to the side, impaling yourself onto his overstimulated cock, crying out when he gripped your hips and started to thrust up, not giving you any control. You clung onto him while he drilled up into you, dribbles of cum still pouring from the tip.

"You're mine sir, mine"

"M'all yours bunny, all fuckin' yours, use me, oh fuck, use me" You grasped onto his shoulders, riding him till tears streaked his face, taking everything you gave him while you pulled a third orgasm from him. And a fourth.

"I-I can't cum anymore, please, cock hurts bunny, I can't-

He was begging but he didn't want you to stop, his hips continuing to thrust up while he slammed your ass down on him sloppily, eyes rolled back while chasing your peaked nipples. He pulled you forward so he could suckle onto them while

"Your cock hurts baby boy?" you stroked his cheek, the new term of endearment making him hard all over again, a sob escaping him.

"It hurts so much, make it go away, m'still so hard, why's your pussy so good bunny"

"One more baby boy?"

"O-one more bunny"

By the end of the night, he was milked dry, holding onto you while you were tucked into his chest, his soft cock still buried deep in your pussy. His neck was littered with dark bruises you marked him with, trailing down to his chest. He cuddled you for a few more minutes before you both had to make your way back down, his hand not leaving yours.

"How was the call - oh-" the red head's eyes grew wide seeing the red and purple hues that peaked under Bucky's collar a proud smirk on his face while he put his arm around your waist.

"It went well. Closed a new deal, if you must know" He stated before pressing a kiss onto your cheek, grinning at the way you melted into him, his soft little bunny.

sorry, this was longer than i intended.

[femsolid]

Male celebrities who've attacked women.

an endless list

Shia Labeouf (Actor)

Has sexually assaulted, verbally abused and harassed several women. Strangled his ex. Shot a dog to "get in character for a movie". Has cheated on every girlfriend he's ever had and knowlingly given them STDs.

Elvis Presley (Singer)

Has sexually assaulted several underage girls (as young as 14) and married one of them. A woman his own age was deemed "too old for him". He only wanted to have sex with virgin girls. When his young bride told him she didn't love him anymore and wanted separation, he became extremely violent and raped her.

Dustin Hoffman (actor)

Has sexually harassed and assaulted mutliple women including a minor.

There's always more...

Cuba Jr Gooding (actor)

Has raped multiple women and no less than 30 women have come forward accusing him of sexual asssault.

Mel Gibson (actor, director)

Beat his wife and harassed his daughter.

Jared Leto (Singer,actor)

Has sexually harassed and raped several uderage girls.

Roman Polanski (Director, actor)

Has raped multiple women and children. Has admitted to drugging and raping a 13 years old then fled to France to escape justice. People still work with him and he's still receiving awards.

Armie Hammer (Actor of "Call me by your name")

Has raped multiple women and violently assaulted them. Has an obsession with dismembering women and cannibalism. Sent a series of texts to his ex saying he was masturbating while picturing himself breaking her bones. Actor Robert Downey Jr has paid for his "rehab" and offered him to live in one of his houses.

Ben Affleck (actor, director)

Has sexually assaulted two women.

Casey Affleck (actor)

Has sexually harassed and assaulted many women.

Gerard Depardieu (Actor)

Has sexually harassed, abused or raped at least 13 women and is currently being investigated for it.

Snoop Dogg (Rapper)

Used to be a human trafficker driving around with a van full of girls he would sell to men, sometimes to a whole athlete team. He claimed he could have sex with any of the prostituted women he owned anytime he wanted. He was married at the time. He wrote multiple rap songs about beating up women to make sure we're kept under control, calling us sexist slurs. He was recently accused of sexual assault by multiple back up dancers.

Charlie Chaplin (actor)

Raped a child and got her pregnant. At the age of 48 he married a 18 years old girl.

There's always more...

David Bowie (singer)

Raped a 15 years old girl when he was 25 and committed statutory rape on a 14 years old when he was 17. He's been well known for preying on minors well into his 40s.

Jack Nicholson

After raping 2 prostituted women he refused to pay them. He beat them up and tried to kill one who ended up at the hospital.

Donald Trump (US president)

Has sexually harassed and assaulted multiple women.

Vincent Van Gogh (painter)

Has harassed and assaulted multiple women, even following them home. A petition was therefore created by the locals to have him removed from the community and put in a hospital.

Sylvester Stallone (actor)

Raped a 16 years old girl.

James Franco (actor)

Has sexually harassed and assaulted multiple women and a minor. He would use his "acting lessons" and classes to manipulate his female students into doing sexual things.

Chris Brown (singer)

Beat his partner black and blue and raped another woman.

Freud (psychoanalyst)

Has facillitated the sexual abuse and rape of his female patients, some were children, protected rapists and participated in the disfigurment of a female patient in particular. He claimed his reluctant female patients were hysterical, lesbians and witches.

Marlon Brando (actor) et Bernardo Bertolucci (director)

Both raped an actress on set.

There's always more...

Dominique Strauss-Kahn (politician, formally head of the monetary fund)

Has sexually harassed multiple women and raped a roomkeeper at the hotel he was staying in.

Johnny Depp (actor)

Has been arrested multiple times for violence. Has raped and beaten his ex wife and called her a whore (among other things), notably commenting on the "fishy" smell of her vulva and writing about how he wants to kill and rape her to death.

Emile Hirsche (actor)

Assaulted a female collegue. She was a film executive and he strangled her before throwing her on the ground.

Woody Allen (director)

Has assaulted and raped multiple women, including his adoptive daughter who was 7. People still work with him and he's still receiving awards.

Cee Lo Green (singer)

Has raped a woman and explained on twitter that it wasn't rape, because "if the woman is unconscious it implies consent".

Nicholas Cage (actor)

Beat his wife.

Terrence Howard (acteur)

Beat his wife and threatened to kill another woman.

Tupac (rapper)

Raped a woman.

Luc Besson (director)

Married a 16 years old girl and beat her. Raped another woman and sexually harassed several others. Despite this, many famous actors still work for him.

There's always more...

Ike Turner (musician)

Beat his wife.

Mike Tyson (boxer)

Beat his wife and raped a woman.

Sean Penn (actor)

Beat his wife.

Tariq Ramadan (theologist)

Has raped and sexually harassed multiple women.

Morgan Freeman (actor)

Has sexually harassed at least 15 women.

Charlie Sheen (actor)

Beat his wife.

Nelly (singer)

Has raped and sexually assaulted several women.

Steven Seagal (actor)

Beat his wife. Sexually assaulted several female collegues.

Mickey Rourke (actor)

Beat his wife.

There's always more...

Slash (musician)

Beat his wife.

Louis C.K (comedian)

Has sexually harassed multiple women.

Christian Slater (actor)

Beat his wife.

Victor Hugo (poet)

Raped prostituted women on the regular and was abusing his wife.

Quentin Tarantino (director)

Has sexually harassed multiple women and protected several rapists.

When discussing what Roman Polanski did (drugging and sodomizing a 13 years old girl) Tarantino said it wasn't rape, that the child wanted it, that the child was Polanski's girlfriend, that an actual rape is violent and that this one wasn't. When the radio hosts told him that the girl was clear about not wanting any of what happened, Tarantino responded that her interfering mother had coached her to say that.

Yanni (musician)

Beat his wife.

Michael Douglas (actor)

Sexually harassed a woman.

Josh Brolin (actor)

Beat his wife.

Cristiano Ronaldo (footballer)

Raped a woman.

There's always more...

R Kelly (singer)

Raped and tortured many, many girls.

Franck Ribéry, Karim Benzema et Sidney Govou (footballers)

Acted as pimps and sexually exploited a minor.

Joe Biden (USA president)

Has sexually harassed several women and girls.

Seal (singer)

Has sexually assaulted a woman.

Julian Assange (whistleblower)

Has raped multiple women. Assange has written about his obsession with impregnating virgin women and he has alread impregnated several women (who are now single mothers). The rapes he's accused of all involved him trying to impregnate the women without their kowing. He is a fervant anti-feminist and racist. He's still supported by most of the left and celebrated as a hero.

Michael Fassbender (actor)

Assaulted his ex multiple times. One time he threw her and dragged her alongside their car. Her injuries included a swollen ankle, a burst ovarian cyst, a broken nose, and a blown out kneecap.

Oscar Pistorius (athlete)

While his wife had taken refuge in the bathroom he shot 4 times through the door with a gun, effectively killing her. He'll be out of prison next year after spending 10 years behind bars.

Morgan Ciprès (figure skater)

Sexually harassed a 13 years old via messaging.

Joaquin Phoenix (acteur)

Has sexually harassed multiple women.

Kurt Cobain (singer)

Tried to rape a mentally disabled girl, a "retard" as he'd say, but gave up because her "vagina" smelled too bad. Later the girl's father came to find him and screamed that he had taken advantage of his daughter. Cobain was therefore nicknamed the "retard fucker" by his classmates.

There's always more...

But I'm tired.

[moonstruckme]

PLEASE!!! im on my hands n knees begging. poly!mauraders with a hyper partner that give off golden retriever vibes I BEG

Happy to oblige my love!

poly!marauders x golden retriever!reader ♡ 1k words

Sirius is still in the process of waking up when you come inside, bags of groceries in your arms. 

“Morning!” You lean over the top of the couch to kiss his cheek as you go by, all but skipping into the kitchen. “Have you been outside? It’s gorgeous.” 

Sirius levels you with a deadpan look. “Do I look like I’ve been outside?” 

“You should,” you say, undeterred by his attitude. “Spring is in the air! The sun is out, the trees are starting to get their little flowers—I even bought us some tulips to put on the table.” 

“That’s nice,” he mumbles, sinking deeper into the cushions. He knows he really should help you unload the groceries, but it feels like his bones have been replaced by barbells. Luckily, he hears a set of footsteps coming down the hall. 

“Hey, sunshine.” James comes in fully dressed, pecking you on the lips before starting the coffee machine. “What’d you get?” 

“I got tulips,” you tell him excitedly. “Have you been outside? It’s a really lovely day.” 

James smiles, sliding one of the bags away from you as you start snipping the stems of your tulips so they’ll fit in a vase. “Yeah, I poked my head out for a sec. It is nice.” His glance slides over to where Sirius languishes on the couch, grin going somewhat cocky. “Morning, Sirius. You could help with the groceries, you know.” 

Sirius waves his hand. “Two of you are enough.” 

The coffee machine starts to gurgle, summoning Remus like a siren’s call. He trudges out of the bedroom, sleep clinging to his frame. Sirius opens his arms commiseratingly.

“It’s hardly ten,” Remus grunts as he collapses into them. “How have they already been productive?” 

“I know, they’re so perky.” Sirius pets down the cowlick at the back of his boyfriend’s head. “It’s freakish.” 

“You’re freakish,” you say brightly, bringing them each a cup of coffee. Sirius has no clue how you’ve managed to unload the groceries so fast, or where you found the time to doctor his coffee the way he likes it. You’re like a machine. You laugh giddily when he nips at your fingers as you pull away. “Remus, wait until you see the weather outside, it’s so perfect. I think we should have a picnic. What do you say?” 

“I say it’s too early for decisions,” he mumbles, sitting up off Sirius so he can drink his coffee. “But that sounds nice.” 

You beam as if you’ve gotten a full-stop go-ahead, breezing back towards the kitchen. “We can make brownies,” you say, bringing your vase of tulips to the table, “and sandwiches, and lemonade. And we can go to that park with the stream—what’s the one?” 

You look to James, who in turn looks to Remus. 

“Mayfield,” Remus says. 

“Right! We can go to Mayfield park, and hike over to that meadow-y area.” Sirius glances your way, and you’ve already started taking down the ingredients for brownies. “It’s so sunny and nice out, you guys won’t believe it. We can bring a frisbee or something.” 

“Hiking and frisbee?” Sirius murmurs to Remus. “I don’t like the sound of all this activity.” Remus snorts. 

“That sounds great, angel.” James apprehends you before you can start pouring things into the mixing bowl, putting a mug of decaf tea in your hand and steering you towards the living room. “I think these guys are going to take a bit to be ready for all that, but I’m sure it’ll be fun.” 

“Right.” You look a bit abashed, sitting down criss-cross-applesauce in the big armchair. “Yeah, we don’t have to go, like, right now. You guys just woke up.” 

“Thanks for noticing,” Sirius says wryly. But when you fidget in your seat and he can feel James’ glare boring into the side of his head, he throws in an eye roll of feigned reluctance. “Get over here.” 

You happily transfer into his lap, letting him brush your hair aside and squealing when he plants a wet, squelching kiss on your neck. Remus, sensing that Sirius’ attention has a new captive, leans back into James, who winds his arms around Remus’ middle gamely. 

“Now why would we go outside,” Sirius asks, nosing at the underside of your jaw as you giggle and squirm, “when we can just do this all day?” 

“You could just as easily do it outside,” James points out. Sirius whines petulantly against your skin, setting you giggling again. 

“He’s right,” you reason, transferring your tea to your other hand so you can wrestle Sirius away from your neck. “We could do this in the sun, with wildflowers and trees around.” 

He pouts. “But you know I burn easily,” he says, “and poor Remus’ hip can’t take the hike.” 

“You don’t know what I can take,” Remus huffs, and Sirius realizes he’s chosen the wrong avenue for his argument. “If my hip hurts, it’s only because your mum was so rough last night.” 

“I don’t particularly enjoy being compared to Sirius’ mum,” says James. Remus’ ears go a bit pink as he mumbles an apology. 

“I won’t let you burn,” you tell Sirius. “You can use sunblock, or we’ll find you a nice shady spot. And Remus, if your hip’s bothering you, we can always find another park. One without a hike.” 

Any vexation that might usually be summoned in Remus by mention of his aches and pains melts away in the face of your earnestness. “Thanks, dove, but I’m alright,” he says. “It’s fine today.” 

James rubs the skin just above Remus’ hip lovingly, and you send him a beaming smile. “It’s probably because it’s so nice out,” you say. 

“Yeah, Sirius,” James turns on him. “It’s so nice out. Do you really want to miss out on what could be the single most beautiful day of the year?” 

Sirius really could give a shit, but he sighs, rolling his eyes. “Fine, let’s picnic.” 

“Yay!” You won’t be contained any longer, hopping up from his lap. “I’m going to go get the frisbee.” 

“The frisbee’s in the attic,” Remus muses, then raises his voice so you can hear him. “Don’t go up in the attic by yourself.” 

“I can get it,” you call back. 

“Don’t,” he warns. “You need someone to hold the ladder, just—” The ladder groans as it comes down and Remus echoes it, starting to stand. But James pats him on the shoulder, encouraging Remus back down as he gets up. 

“Slow your roll, angel,” he calls ahead. “I’m coming.”

[holylulusworld]

Jealousy a la Bucky

Summary: He’s not jealous.

Pairing: (Soft)Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: jealous Bucky, Bucky is smitten for the reader, Steve being a tease, fluff, flirting

He’s not jealous. Never. He’s not even looking your way when you talk to one of his business partners. Nope. He’s not squaring his jaw or balling his hands into fists. No, of course not.

What he does is sulk at the bar, a pout on his lips, and a grumpy expression on his face. He nips at his drink while following your every move.

“That her?” Steve finally asks. He watched his friend stare at you from afar for almost half an hour. Now he wants to tease him. “I guess she’s good at making new friends, huh? A pretty dame like her. All alone. Wearing a dress like that.”

“First and final warning,” Bucky points his index finger at his friend and brother-in-crime. “I saved your life more than once. But I will take it if you say one more thing about that woman.”

“Aw, it finally happened,” sipping at his drink Steve watches his friend frown deeply. You giggle at something Clint Barton, one of his confidants and notorious weapon dealers, said. “James Buchanan Barnes is in love.”

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky grunts. “If you say one more word, you’ll lose your tongue and more.” He angrily glares at Barton, swearing on his mother’s grave he’ll kill the man if he dares to touch you. “I’m not in love.” 

He’s not in love. Not at all. Of course, not. James Buchanan Barnes, a notorious mobster, and stone-cold weapon dealer doesn’t fall in love.

Then, why can’t he take his eyes off you, his sweet new assistant? The woman taking care of his life. “She brings me food and makes my appointments. Y/N is only my assistant. Stop acting like I lost my dead heart to that beautiful, caring, and sweet girl.”

“You are so in love with her,” Steve grins and raises his glass. “To James Buchanan Barnes, the most wanted bachelor who finally got tamed. I hope you know I want to be your best man at your wedding.”

Bucky glares at Steve. He wants to say something, or (and) punch his friend’s face when someone calls his name. Your sweet voice brings him out of his rage and back to reality. 

“Mr. Barnes, you should eat something,” you clear your throat to get your boss’s attention. “Sir, I got you a plate filled with all the things you like.”

“All the things I like?” He drops his eyes to the plate you hold. “You mean all the things you like, doll.”

You giggle at the pet name. Bucky Barnes is a dangerous man, and you should be afraid to be even close to him. Oddly, you feel the safest around your boss. He’s a big teddy bear when it comes to you.

“Fine, I got you the same things I like so we can share.”

“You want to share the food with Bucky?” Steve swallows thickly when his friend snaps his head toward him. “He’s a food thief. You should keep a close eye on that food.”

“I like sharing,” you softly say. “Mr. Barnes often forgets to eat. I made it my mission to take care of him and his well-being.”

Steve chokes on his drink at the look Bucky gives you. Puppy dog eyes. James Buchanan Barnes looks at you like you are a miracle to him. 

“Uh-cool,” the blonde says. “I’ll grab some food too. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Same,” you are busy offering food to your boss and barely look at Steve. “Now, what do you want to taste first?”

‘Your lips’, Bucky thinks to himself but doesn’t say it out loud. “What do you recommend?”

“We could start with the salmon and then, you should try the green asparagus. It’s delicious and the best I ever ate. OH, and they have the best desserts, Bucky.” You gasp as you just called your boss by his name. “I’m sorry, Sir…I didn’t…I…”

“My name sounds like a melody on your tongue,” Bucky grabs the salmon to wolf it down. You just stare at him, and let his words sink in. 

“That was…” you snort. “Oh my god! So funny. I mean…sorry…but…that was the lamest pick-up line ever,” you step closer to whisper in his ear. “You know, if you like me, you can just ask me out.”

“It was poetic and—” He tries to argue until he realizes you kinda asked him out. “Do you want to go on a date with me, doll?”

“Phew, finally,” you smirk. “I wouldn’t have made it through the night if I talked to Mr. Barton for much longer. He wanted me to have a look at his bow. I still don’t know what he meant.”

“His bow?” Bucky hiccups. “That bastard wanted to show you his bow?”

“Hmm…I told him that you already offered to show me your gun.”

“Right now?” He nervously shifts on his feet, and hopefully looks at you.

“No,” you pat his chest and smile. “I don’t look at a man’s gun before the second date…or the third.”

“I bet you’ll make an exception for me,” he takes the plate out of your hands and throws it over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll order room service for us.”

“I’m keeping you up on that promise, Sir…”

You will have room service, in Paris only a few hours later…

Tags in reblog.

[runawaycarouselhorse]

What made both her sacrifice for her team mates’ happiness in Pocket Monsters (2019)/Pokemon Journeys episode 95 and the fact that she thought this would be her end more poignant for me is that being completely alone is what Musashi hates the most. She lost her (single) mother as a child and was never adopted, going from foster home to foster home... ;_;

After many failures (like being unable to graduate from a school meant to train literal Pokemon Nurses, because she couldn’t do what Chansey do, despite studying hard and being adept at skills like bandaging…) and having her heart broken and being disappointed (she let a boy she loved go alone so she can pursue idol dreams with some friends, who all made it… without her, so she lost a possible love for an impossible dream)…

She couldn’t bond with her partners and left them to be injured, just to save herself, during her training days at Team Rocket. She’d become selfish and self-preserving… in the Japanese version, the others called her “shinigami Musashi” according to Yamato (Cassidy), likening her to a reaper of souls… but James refused to run away, sick of living a life where he ran away from all his problems. He’d sacrifice himself for her and Meowth’s safety, getting badly injured and nearly missing their final exam, hospitalized. The first time they uttered the beginning of their motto was when she believed she was all alone again, much like in this scene… the Rockets in the Japanese version repeat the last thing someone else says as if to answer a question (the “nanda kanda to kikare tara” = “if you ask us about this or that” is mostly filler that could be substituted with anything else.)

Musashi (Jessie): (dejectedly, as she walks away alone as the final exam begins, even being questioned by Nyasu/Meowth where she’s going): Is this all that there is…?

Kojiro (James): (answering while leaning posed against a tree, covered in bandages, but they were only wrapped over his clothes so he could whip them off dramatically) If you ask us 'if this is all that there is,' our answer will be the universe’s compassion!

She’s so moved, she turns away to wipe her tears. “A team mate who won’t run away…”

I think that’s the first time they ever see her cry.

Jessie desperately wants family, belonging, that’s why she falls in love so quickly, she wants a family more than anything—James had everything material growing up, but not love… Musashi had near to nothing material growing up, BUT she had her mother’s love… until she lost her very, very early. They contrast each other! They’re soul mates, eternal partners, whether you ship them or not. Meowth, too, was orphaned as a kitten, never even named, and an outcast his whole life. He's also always falling in love easily, seeking a home... the trio should never be separated, they are each other’s sought-for home.

I think the falling snow in this scene, where she runs off in tears, after wearing a brave smile and telling James it’s okay to stay with Cassidy, is a very deliberate choice, as Jessie loves snow. One of her few happy memories of her depressing childhood is being made treats made of snow to eat. She unknowingly lost her mother in the snowy Andes mountains, seeking Mew, put into foster care, while Miyamoto tried to make money to give her a better life... glittering snow and sparkling tears…

For Meowth too, she lets him go. She just wants everyone to have their chance at love.

So, her believing she’ll end up dying alone, as she’s always feared, Musashi here laments her luck, but also has a beautiful little dream of her friends saving her.

Once again, similarly to the break-up episode of DP, she was the one who calmly and gently encouraged James to pursue a possible love. She also broke Dustox’s pokeball, in tears, not wanting her to make the same mistake she did, giving up on an attainable love for an unattainable goal (and, indeed, Jessie did not win the Grand Festival, despite her skill at Pokemon Contests… she made the right decision for Dustox’s happiness.)

Jessie loves her friends. Sure, she’s caustic, rude, temperamental, bitter, and self-absorbed, but she prioritizes love and their happiness. She doesn’t want them to be alone and abandoned the way she felt as a kid. She loves them so much so, she’s satisfied to die alone and suffer her worst fear if it meant they get to be happy. That’s self-sacrifice.

She doesn’t resent them one bit, saying it’s a nice dream when she thinks she’s imagined them saving her life… she thought it was her mind comforting her before her death, accepting her fate, rather than realizing it’s effectively a premonition of what will be reality… and when she realizes?! She initially reproaches them, looking mad, because she thought they abandoned their happiness for her! But no, things didn’t work out… this is where they’re meant to be: by each other’s side.

James also knows how much marriage means to her, even though he’s so traumatized by it, the word “fiance” triggers literal flashbacks for him and he climbed up a tree to get away from a teenaged girl who called him that. Yet, in XY episode 63, where she fell for Dr. White...

Kojiro: (with head down, eyes shadowed) If Musashi (Jessie) wants to pursue her happiness as a woman, shouldn't we give her our blessing?

Nyasu also had his misfortunes in love... they sympathize and empathize.

"Let's show her we're men and leave without saying anything..."

As Kojiro runs away, he sheds tears, wishing her happiness and bidding her farewell, silently. The scenes in these two episodes are clear parallels.

But in the end (including the final episodes, as rushed as that plotline was although I still loved Wobbuffet acting exactly like a troubled child of parents going through a messy divorce), they’ll always realize their happiness is by each other’s side as a trio.

"Sometimes you get good pulls, sometimes you get bad ones. Sometimes they're good, even if you think they're bad. Sometimes they're bad, even if you think they're good."

[poetskings]

@jegulus-microfic | april 5: slap | 1.1k words

James watches on as Regulus plays a card game, surrounded by the family that they have created.

James leans against the doorframe, sipping on a lukewarm cider as he watches Regulus, who’s sitting cross legged in the centre of their living room. He’s in one of James’ old sweaters, the sleeves rolled up to stop them from covering his hands.

James is so in love with him.

Regulus glows, sat surrounded by the people that they love. This is a home that they have created for each other, with each other.

In his hands are two cards, and he watches Remus and Pandora carefully. James knows that he has a +4 and a reverse left, and James is almost certain that he’s going to win.

Remus places down a yellow +2, smirking as Sirius hooks his head over his partner’s shoulder.

Pandora only giggles, placing down another +2, leaving Regulus to slap his +4 down, screaming ‘uno’ before anyone else can place their cards.

He is delighted, his legs uncrossing as he rocks back gently.

“You prick,” Sirius calls, having taken Remus’ side as his partner begrudgingly picks up his ten new cards, grumbling good-naturedly about it.

“Sorry your boyfriend’s a loser, Siri,” Regulus taunts back. He is looser than normal, a glass of wine in his hands that he’s been sipping from intermittently, but he’s not drunk. He’s just comfortable.

Sirius scowls at his brother as Remus plays a green 3, Pandora laying a green 7 and allowing Regulus to place his green Reverse down, declaring him the winner.

There are cheers released from Regulus and his corner, with Mary and Evan having decided early on that Regulus was going to win. James thinks he can see money changing hands between Peter and Marlene, but that’s between them.

Barty and Lily join him, the smell of smoke clinging to their clothes. They’ve come in from the fire escape, James thinks.

“Odd to see you hanging around at the edges of a party,” Barty comments, but James knows he doesn’t mean anything by it.

“Reg is enjoying himself. Didn’t want to interrupt.” James shrugs his shoulders, acting nonchalant.

“You’re good for him, you know?” That makes James pause. Barty’s been hesitant to show James anything other than casual apathy since the pair started dating. “He has people who love him, and that hasn’t changed, but I think you make him aware that it’s okay to accept that love. He’s been in Sirius’ shadow for as long as I’ve known him, and he’s always felt like he’s second choice, but you give him space to be himself. You’ve shown him that he doesn’t have to be Sirius to be loved.”

A distressed noise claws its way out of James’ throat, and Barty pats him on the back before stealing his cider and moving to reclaim a seat near Evan. Lily moves to take his place at James’ side.

“Barty’s right, James. But I also think he’s good for you, too. If he weren’t here you’d be forcing yourself into the centre of the room, even if you needed a break. He lets you switch off, and he doesn’t expect anything from you. I think we take you for granted, sometimes, but he doesn’t.” She turns her head to focus back on the group, and James follows her gaze.

Regulus is looking back at them, mouthing ‘you okay?’ to James. He nods his head in response, but Regulus stands up anyway, heading over to the pair.

“Hey, Lily, I think Pandora needs someone to commiserate with her after her frankly embarrassing Uno performance,” Regulus says, gently teasing his best friend’s failure.

The trio looks over to Pandora, where she’s reading the lines on Sirius’ palm, the two gossiping intently with their heads close together as Remus overlooks the pair, a fond smile on his face. “Oh, she looks positively devastated,” Lily jokes, but heads over to her girlfriend nonetheless. “Look after James, Reg,” she calls over her shoulder.

Regulus takes James’ hand, moving him out of the front room and back through the kitchen, leaving his wine on the side before crawling out the window to take a seat in the fire escape.

James has no choice but to follow him. Wherever Regulus goes, James will always follow.

“Congrats on winning Uno – a truly impressive performance,” James comments, a smirk falling over his face.

Regulus sniggers as he draws two cigarettes out of the pocket of his jacket. “I hope Mary made a killing. Peter should’ve known better than to bet on Remus – he’s useless at card games.”

Wordlessly, Regulus hands a cigarette over to James, cupping a hand around it as he lights it before turning his attention to his own.

The pair smoke in silence. They don’t need words. They never have.

“I love you, Jamie.” Regulus is stubbing his cigarette out as he says this, but it doesn’t dampen the significance of the moment.

Those words are always significant to James. Regulus is sparing with them; hesitant to express his emotions with words. It’s okay; he shows James that he loves him in a million other ways, but sometimes James needs to hear it.

This is one of those times, and Regulus knows. Regulus always knows.

James doesn’t say anything back; doesn’t have to.

He stubs his cigarette out, leaning over to kiss his boyfriend. It’s soft, tender. Regulus tastes of smoke and red wine, and James loves him.

Regulus pulls back, resting his forehead against James’ before pressing a soft kiss to his lips, to his cheek, to his forehead. “Let’s go back inside.”

James registers the goose bumps that have appeared on his arm, and he nods.

The couple head back in to rejoin their friends. The living room has a warm glow to it, filled with life and laughter and so much love.

“Welcome back, you two,” Remus comments, dropping down from the sofa where he’d taken up residence to sit beside Sirius.

“I hope neither of you were doing anything untoward.” Sirius looks over at them, an eyebrow raising. Regulus only raises an eyebrow in return.

“Piss off, Siri, everyone knows that if anyone’s going to do anything untoward on a fire escape it’s you and Remus,” Regulus bites at his brother, but there’s no real anger in it.

Peter releases a bark of laughter as Sirius buries his face in Remus’ chest. Regulus has won this round.

James draws his boyfriend across the living room, to the sofa that Remus has just evacuated, and the pair curl up together. It’s instinctual, as easy as breathing. Regulus fits himself to James and James fits himself to Regulus. They are two parts of the same whole; two parts of the same soul.

James rests his chin on Regulus’ shoulder and looks out at his friends, at his family.

Regulus is in his arms and he is home.

[ellecdc]

Hiyaa, I’m back again for another seer!reader😋

This one’s connected to the other seer!reader, I was thinking, what if mini padfoot inherits his mother’s abilities? Although he still can’t differentiate the line between his visions and dreams since he is really young. So what happened was he dreamt that a wolf was running after him and his baby sibling and he got so scared that he told his parents, then at the end they all figured out it was just a harmless dream?? Yes, angst with a happy ending please😚

Have a great day babes!🩷✨

mini-padfoot stoppppp I love them

poly!marauders x Seer!reader whose son inherits her gift of Sight

CW: hurt/comfort, fluff, Remus spiralling, continuation of this fic

If you had told Remus at any point in his life that he would one day be a doting stay-at-home-father of not one but two children, he would have called you barmy and maybe suggested you be admitted into the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo’s.

But alas, here he was, currently baking in his kitchen whilst his two children napped as he waited for his partners to return home from their various jobs.

And he loved it. 

As if perfect timing, Remus had just slid a sheet of biscuits into the oven and set a quick timer when he heard his oldest starting to cry. 

“I’m coming, cariad.” He called out as he wiped the flour off his jumper and pushed the door open to his son’s room, hoping to calm the crying before he managed to wake his younger sibling. 

“Da!” Leo sobbed, holding his little arms out to Remus. Remus quickly bent down and scooped the toddler up into his arms and began shushing him and bouncing back and forth.

“You’re okay, m’love. Da’s right here.” He murmured into his head of curly black hair. 

Though Remus knew toddlers and babies often cried as they woke up, Leo seemed to be particularly distressed after today’s nap. 

“Hey, hey cariad; what’s the problem, hm? What’s the matter?” Remus cooed as he pulled his son away from his body to examine his face. 

Remus’ heart lurched as he watched the little black-haired, grey-eyed bub rub at his eyes with pudgy fists; lip jutting out as he took in shuddering breaths.

“Saw bad.” He pouted miserably. 

Remus’ heart lurched once again for the poor mini-padfoot who was plagued with his mummy’s gift of Sight. 

“Did you have a bad dream?” Remus asked cautiously. 

After many discussions that Sirius, James, and Remus had with you, they decided it was best to have Leo describe any potential Sights as dreams until he was old enough to be able to cope with potentially unsettling Sights; there was no use in your child stressing over things he could not control or even properly understand yet.

“Yeah.” The boy cried again.

“What was the dream about, my love?”

“Bad wolf.”

Remus felt his blood run ice cold as he stared at his son in horror.

A Bad Wolf.

“What did the bad wolf do, cariad?”

Leo let out a pitiful sniffle as his big eyes stared up imploringly at his father. “He was chasing us, me and my baby sister. I had to carry her but she wouldn’t stop crying and the wolf kept chasing us. He was growling and drooly and just very scary.” He explained, the end of his sentence punctuated with another sob.

Remus’ body seemed to move in autopilot as he pulled the child back into his chest and began rocking him back and forth, murmuring soft encouragements of ‘your safe now’, ‘da’s got you’, and ‘there’s nothing to be afraid of’ even though Remus himself was terrified. 

It was him.

He was The Wolf. 

He was chasing them…hunting them; his own children.

He should have known; he should have known better.

He was a monster through and through and he had no right to endanger the lives of these two innocent babes.

He felt sick and twisted even holding Sirius’ doppelganger in his arms like he had any right to tell him it was all okay and he was safe now. As if he wasn’t currently cradled in the arms of the monster he so feared. 

Remus moved the child to the living room where he popped on a video of Winnie the Pooh or some other children’s cartoon on the muggle telly for him and handed him a small cup of apple slices.

He stood in the corner of the room - the closest he’d allow himself to Leo - chewing at his cuticles until James walked in the door.

“Daddy!” Leo shrieked excitedly as he abandoned the remaining apple slices in favour of launching himself at his father. 

“Hey lovebug!” James cheered back, swinging the toddler back and forth in his arms before putting him back down and letting him race back off to his shows.

“‘Lo Moons! How was- is…is everything okay?” James started, but paused as he noticed Remus’ tense body language. 

“Can you please watch them?” Remus whispered, referring to the one child sitting in front of the telly and the other still sound asleep within her bassinet. 

“Of course.” James started, sounding like he was ready to ask Remus what was going on, but Remus never gave him the chance.

Remus swiftly moved down the hall and closed himself into their bedroom where he let out his own sob that had been stuck in the back of his throat. 

The house smelled heavenly, alerting you to the fact that Remus had been playing around in the kitchen again. You’d been coming home to some of the most delectable pastries and breads that Remus always found some fault in - they were too dense, too flaky, not risen enough etc etc - but they never failed to make your mouth water each and every time.

The pleased smile that had taken over your face as you entered your home quickly vanished when you entered the living room to a tension you weren’t accustomed to in your own home. 

Sirius was standing with the youngest of your two children cradled in his arms as he and James murmured solemnly back and forth, and your oldest watched cartoons completely unaware of any stress colouring the atmosphere around him. 

“Hey you guys.” You offered cautiously, causing Leo to jump up to greet you.

“Hi mummy!” He shrieked, causing your daughter to stir unhappily in his papa’s arms. 

“Where’s Da, pumpkin?” You asked him as he wiggled out of your grasp, clearly eager to return to his shows.

“In bed.” He responded simply, causing you to look at your husbands bemusedly. 

Sirius and James exchanged a glance as James moved over to you. “He’s in the bedroom. He seemed very upset when I got home and all he told me was ‘Leo Saw something’.”

You let out a sigh as you looked over at your son, feeling horribly guilty that he was plagued by the same ‘gift’ that you were. You could remember some of your earliest sights at perhaps only slightly older than he currently was, and how upsetting not only the Sights could be, but how upsetting it could be when they happened to come true.

But, you also knew that at his age, what Remus described as a Sight could easily have been a simple dream.

You made your way down the hallway towards your bedroom, pausing to knock gently twice before letting yourself in.

Remus was sitting hunched over on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands with his back facing you.

You aren’t sure when the last time you saw him look so dejected was, but it caused a horrible lump in your throat nonetheless. 

“Moony, love?” You called quietly, moving slowly around the bed in order to stand in front of him.

He never looked up at you, but a sob escaped him at your words.

“Baby.” You cooed as you knelt; placing your hands on either side of his knee and trying to rub circles with your thumbs in an attempt to get him to look at you. “What happened, my love?”

Through quiet sobs, you managed to catch “He’s scared of me. I’m going to kill him.” 

“Remus.” You said more seriously. “That’s impossible.”

“He saw the Wolf, Y/N.” Remus responded emphatically, pulling his hands away from his face to expose his reddened and swollen eyes and cheeks. “It…it was - I was chasing him, and he was carrying our sweet-” He cut himself off with a hiccup and tried to cover his face again, but you caught his hands and brought them to your cheeks instead. 

“He was trying to protect his little sister, and the Wolf was hunting them. I was hunting them.”

“No Remus.” You argued, but Remus screwed his eyes shut as if your refusal to believe him caused him physical pain.

“Remus Lupin, you listen to me; you would never allow anything to happen to those kids. You love them more than anything in this world; I’ve never been more certain of their safety than when they’re with you.”

Remus didn’t seem completely convinced as he shook his head in disagreement, though he didn’t bother arguing with you. 

“And even if that wasn’t true.” You began, drawing your syllables out to encourage him to return his eyes to yours, which he did. “You have three of us here who also would never allow anything to happen to them. If you don’t trust yourself, don’t you trust us?”

Remus let out a defeated sigh as he rested his forehead against yours; his hands still stationed where you were holding them against your jaw as his thumbs gently rubbed near your cheekbones. 

“Besides,” You added quietly, nudging his nose gently with your own. “I’m a much better Seer than Leo; if anything were to happen to my children - I’d be the first to know.” 

Remus let out a quiet snort at that, causing you to smile. 

“I’m sorry you’ve had a bad day, my love.” You soothed; pulling your head back to press a kiss to his nose only for him to hold your head there and press a gentle kiss to your lips in response.

“It wasn’t a bad day.” He countered. “It was quite good, before he woke up from his nap terrified.”

You let out a sympathetic hum of acknowledgement and pressed another kiss to his lips. “It could have very well been a dream, baby.”

Remus sighed as if he knew that, but just couldn’t help being worried. You understood his dilemma. 

Before either of you could respond, a cautious knock was rapped against the door as James and Sirius both poked their heads in.

“Hey, Moony.” James started, sounding all kinds of guilty.

“So, Leo told us about his dream he had this afternoon.” Sirius continued, grimacing slightly at the admission. 

“Yeah! And, uhm, funny thing…that…” James soldiered on. “It turns out-”

“Red Riding Hood!” Leo squealed as he shoved his head between Sirius and James’ legs.

“What?” Remus asked in bemusement. 

“Well, we had a playdate over with the Lovegood’s yesterday, right? And Xenophilius read this muggle nursery rhyme to them-”

“James…” You groaned, leaning your forehead down on Remus’ knee as he rubbed his thumbs through the baby hairs on the back of your neck.

“Why don’t you tell them what happened next in your dream, bubs. After the wolf was chasing you?” Sirius encouraged.

“Me and sissy got away from the wolf because Mama showed up with two knights and they fought the wolf! And the knights were Daddy and Da, and then we all went and rescued Papa from an evil witch who locked him in a tower!” Leo explained excitedly. 

“Leo,” Remus chided jovially. “You didn’t tell me any of this when you woke up.”

“I forgot!” Leo said with a shrug before he went racing back off down the hallway. 

“Cheeky bastard.” You sighed quietly causing Sirius to bark a laugh. 

“Sure is; he is his father’s son, afterall.”

“I’m so sorry, Rem.” James offered guiltily. “I was just so excited to learn muggle nursery rhymes and stories; I never even made the connection of the Wolf.”

Remus shook his head at his husband in faux contempt as he turned to lean his head against yours once again. “I’m gonna kill him.”

You hummed as if in thought. “No you won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” He asked with a smirk.

You smirked right back. “Because, I would have Seen it.”

“Fair enough.” He whispered back. 

“Right. So, now that we’re all good.” Sirius began. “Can we have those biscuits you made yet? They smell bloody brilliant.

“You can.” Remus replied. “None for Prongs.”

This earned him a bark of laughter from Sirius and a horrified squawk from James.

“Ha ha. You’re in the doghouse.” Sirius taunted James, turning to flee quickly when James turned to glare daggers at him.

You knew James had caught up to him when you heard an inelegant shriek from Sirius and Leo squealing in laughter at his fathers’ antics.

“I love them so much.” You mused aloud.

Remus breathed out a laugh through his nose. “Me too.”

[luveline]

i see ur thinking abt the marauders and i was just thinking abt them too!! i just saw a thread on twt abt how much men hate their girlfriends but wont break up with them (😖😖) and couldn't stop thinking abt how james would be so BAFFLED reading it!! would you be able to write something for that? its perfectly fine if not!! ily <33

I luv you! I'm not sure what thread you mean but I made a guess, sorry if it's not right ♡ fem, 1k

modern au. cw mention of toxic/hurtful relationships

"What is that?" James asks, pushing the sheets back as he climbs in beside you. His bowl of cereal is heaping, upwards of ten weetabix doused in milk, sugar, raspberries, blueberries, and a generous squeeze of honey.

"What?" you ask, showing him your phone screen. 

James leans over you to scroll back up. "Men who hate their girlfriends?" 

"Oh, it's like, people posting their screenshots, I think." You click on the tweet he'd been pointing at and show him the replies underneath. "It's just boys who act like they don't love their partners but won't break up with them either, there's loads on there." 

"What?" he asks, holding his bowl in one hand. "Can I?" You give him your phone happily, watching as he reads through some of the examples, screenshots from different websites and forums. "'Recently had to tell a friend's bird that he was calling her all sorts of names. I'm loyal to my friends, but you could hear the hatred in his voice sometimes. She left him two days later and he was surprised, for some reason.'"

James' eyebrows pinch. He continues, "'Am I in the wrong for asking my husband to stay awake with me during my early morning labour? He keeps bringing it up.'" James shows you your phone screen. "Like, he's mad she didn't let him sleep through the birth of their child?" 

"You know, there was a video on there a few weeks ago where a girl had put together a compilation of her boyfriend play fighting with her, and each video got nastier and nastier." You reach for the spoon to his bowl to start chopping up the weetabix the way he likes. "He was kicking her legs from under her and she was laughing it off. Once or twice, I'd think it was funny, but he wasn't even laughing himself." 

"Why the fuck?" James asks. 

"I don't know. Can I have a raspberry?" 

"They're in there for you to steal…" James watches you chew. You try not to pay too much attention to his staring, plopping your phone down in the sheets between your legs. "Why are these boys getting with women they don't like?" 

"I don't know, Jamie," you tell him honestly, wading through his bowl for another raspberry. "I think they get comfortable." 

He accepts the spoon back from you and you slouch down the fabric headboard together. James eats his weetabix slowly, the TV sending a light blue light into your otherwise dark room. "It's a bit late for supper," you murmur. "Were you hungry?" 

James puts his bowl on the nightstand. Coils of curls brush your forehead as he leans down, one big hand on the back of your neck and the other stretched across the shoulder furthest away from him, holding you in place as he kisses the top of your head. It's a weighty kiss, full of love. "I love you. Don't ever let anyone treat you like those boys on your phone, yeah?" 

You hum lightly. "That's what boys are like." 

"I know. I'm just begging you not to let people do that to you." He rubs your shoulder roughly, a massaging that hurts in the good way. "You know, if you can. I get that it's not their choice." 

"Yeah. I think people want so badly to be loved that they'll take the pretend kind. I was lucky to find you before you found someone else. You always make me happy." 

"This is what I mean," he whines, resting his cheek on your forehead. You sigh happily at his touch, more than ready for a night of his arms around you, a heavy leg thrown over your hips to lock you in. "You think you're lucky because of those dickheads." 

"No, it doesn't have anything to do with them. Just you." 

James sits up to turn your face to his. "Love you," he says, kissing you quickly. 

"Love you too. Don't stress about the phone, babe, you're not the audience they're looking for." 

James hears your teasing tone toward the end, poking your side. "What's that for?" 

"Nothing, just, you tried to follow me into the bathroom last night even when I told you I wasn't showering. If you're that eager to sit with me while I pee, I doubt you'll be the kind of guy who ends up on that forum." 

"It wasn't about the peeing, stop trying to shame me," he grumbles, again pulling you in for a hug, "it was separation anxiety. I miss you."

"I get why these women end up like that, though," you say quietly. "I get why they stay. If you started shoving me for a laugh or whatever, I'd think about this, because you love me. Does that make sense? I'm so happy right now that I wouldn't want to believe that you didn't love me anymore." 

"I know. It's fucking sad. I can't believe they do shit like that, it's pure selfishness." James settles back in his pillow. "I wouldn't ever do that shit to you. I know everyone says that, but I have to say it anyway." 

"I know, Jamie. Don't worry. I'm not worried about it, only talking." 

You offer him your hand. James takes it, rubs the back of it, brings it to his lips for a barely felt kiss. "Is there anything happy on that app?" he asks. 

"Uh, I saw a video of a baby girl who only stops crying when her cat comes to check on her. Or a pregnancy reveal where the boyfriend starts crying and begging her to get married." 

James rests his face on your shoulder, snuffling into your skin contentedly, "Ah, so my future. Put it on, angel." 

[ma1dita]

it will pass

part two can be found here -> without a doubt

words: little under 2k

summary: Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

warnings: none! fem!reader; i would die for best friend!james, did not demonize lily; angst, unrequited love, lil childhood speech impediment, cheesy nicknames, sharing clothes, will they wont they (they wont im sorry)

a/n: guess who just rewatched fleabag szn 2! i chose pain today sorry— god i missed writing. i am a words of affirmation gorl pls affirm me

(posted 9/8/23)

—

There isn’t a single doubt that James Potter loves you.

You’ve been attached at the hip since training broomsticks and pinky swears in Godric’s Hollow. You accidentally call a boy ‘Jam’ once because of your childhood speech apraxia, and he swears you’re meant to be his best friend.

“Don’t worry, I can be loud enough for the both of us, peanut!”

Like peanut butter and jelly, you two were a perfect match– and even better partners in crime. When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So even if you were honestly unable to string the words together, who were you to say no?

Technically it’s somewhat official too, by whatever imaginary power was bestowed upon the Potter’s house elf for your very elaborate backyard fantasy wedding the two of you had when you were seven. All of your parents were in attendance, along with your cat and you all had blueberry cupcakes after your first and only kiss.

“Miss Mippy pronounces you huzbind and wife!”

Giggles are heard all around as the tiny elf tripped on her way off the stool, knocking both your heads together. James lost a front tooth that day, but he grinned for the pictures your mothers took anyway. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

There wasn’t anyone at Hogwarts who would expect one of you to be present without the other following behind. You never had to hold back your smart mouth because James was always willing to finish your fights. The both of you were a package deal, with your number of protectors growing once Remus, Sirius, and Peter came along. It was not a routine you both consciously established, but rather second nature to be in each other’s lives. Like how you always made sure his glasses were clean before quidditch matches and he’d chuck his extra jersey at your face for you to wear.

“Stay warm during the game okay? I’ll see you later, love you!”

He skated around your waist, blowing a raspberry onto your cheek as he grabbed his glasses from your fingers.

“Don’t fall off your broom. Love you too, loser.” You’re already tugging his jersey over your head, inhaling his signature scent of broom polish, cinnamon, and Sleakeasy’s hair potion.

James smiled at you softly, before running to meet up with his team. After Gryffindor won again, he threw you over his shoulder and you laughed and yelled that he smelled like sweat. He always tucked you in his bed after parties, wrapping you in his arms once the lights go out. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

Your friendship is stronger than most romantic relationships, and as your teenage years fly by, both of you realize how rare that is. He often took you to the kitchens to eat vanilla sundaes after boys broke your heart (and they got black eyes to match, courtesy of him and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team) and you would listen to him, building him up and calming him down through years of pining over a certain Lily Evans. You were there for each other through everything, silly crushes, secret trysts, boring detentions, and highly esteemed accolades. If there ever were such a thing as soulmates, you knew it had to be him, even if it was platonic. Just being around someone as vibrant as James made you consider yourself lucky.

You once saw your best friend with his head in his hands on your way to a date—he was moping after a nasty prank on Snape went wrong; it ended in Lily crying and after defending her albeit quite boisterously in true James fashion, he still didn’t get the girl.

He gets up to see you walking down the corridor to meet him halfway, and before you even speak he rubs his eyes, posture shrinking as his towering frame melts into your embrace.

“Don’t know why I thought it’d be different this time,” he mumbles, and you gladly carry the weight of his heart.

“Let’s go swimming in the Black Lake, ” you say suddenly, rubbing his broad back in small circles.

“But peanut, you have a date in an hour! You’re all dolled up and pretty...”

“I’ll have more dates. You need me right now, jelly. I’ve got you.” His nickname makes you blush a little more than you should sometimes, so you only ever pull it out as a trick up your sleeve to make him feel better.

“Love you,” you whisper, brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He breathes easily for the first time in hours, mouth curling up from its frown when he sees you walk straight into the lake water with your nicest clothes on, not even hesitating for a moment. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So years later, when your best friend asks you if you could go wedding ring shopping with him to propose to the love of his life, who were you to decline? I mean, who else would go with him?

“Come on, (Y/N). I need my best girl with me to make the biggest decision of my life.” he’s practically moaning, the man ever so dramatic as he’s sprawled across your couch.

“And why aren’t you dragging Sirius with you again?”

Your eyebrow is raised as you stand at his feet, lifting his burly legs for you to place yourself under and get comfortable.

“What does Sirius know about women? He’d tell me to get the shiniest one and leave!” James’ yells into your throw pillow, anguished at the thought. You pull it off his face, before he quietly admits, “I just want to get it right.”

“When are we going?” you answer, without missing a beat.

Later that week, the saleslady recommends a wide array of glimmering engagement bands, none of which are for you. But you let yourself fall into the fantasy of the what-ifs, flashing back to your flower crown and candy ring wedding, wondering if it could’ve been you getting proposed to by him in another life.

“Would you like to try a few on?” the saleslady asks, assuming you two are together.

“Show me and my girl your best. No price limit.” he grins.

And how dare she assume that, as he puts his head on your shoulder, whisking you around the store to look at stunning rings, fingers brushing, and the both of you being able to communicate clearly with no words spoken. James plays along with the saleslady, finally choosing a whimsical-looking diamond setting placed upon your left ring finger. You remind yourself it’s not yours. Your heart comes to a screeching halt and you can’t help but feel all of a sudden like he’s being mean.

After all, he’s not yours, not really.

There is a little bit of doubt now and a weird tightness in your chest that makes you think of the possibility that you’re in love with James Potter.

—

Like a good best friend, you help him plan his proposal. James’ love is loud, pulling all the stops, and preferring the grandest of gestures.

“James, you are not proposing to Lily with a flash mob.”

“But it would be so cool! After all, my heart dances every time I see her face.” he wiggles his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his butterbeer.

“Your heart might, but you, unfortunately, are the worst dancer I’ve ever seen.” You laugh, reaching over to tug the quill out of his hand, crossing it off his list. He pulls you into a headlock, kissing the side of your face teasingly.

“What would I ever do without you, peanut?”

You wipe James’ spit off your cheek, pushing his face away, blushing from his attention.

“Combust, probably.”

Your heart is dancing now too, and you realize that there isn’t a single doubt that you’re in love with your best friend.

—

You keep yourself busy in the month before his proposal. It hurt learning too many details, such as what flowers he wanted to order to bring out her eyes (pink and yellow tulips), and scouting out the perfect location on the beach he picked (next to the lighthouse you and him visited as kids), even down to how he’d convince Lily to wear white without being suspicious (honestly he just expected you to do him a favor for this one). But after seeing each other almost every day for more than half your life, he knew something was off when you became distant.

James shows up at your apartment, his key in hand, but he decides to knock anyway. The sound of the TV is muffled, lowering in volume until he hears your footsteps pad over to the door and it swings open. You’re in one of his old Quidditch sweaters and fluffy blue socks.

“Hey. Wasn’t expecting you to come by.” You smile timidly, as he leans against the doorframe peering down at you.

“Never used to have to tell you.”

“James...” you stutter, before awkwardly opening the door completely. He shuffles towards the couch, keeping his shoes on as he sits at the end, and there’s a certain tension in the air that frightens you. You’re not sure if you’ll come out of this one unscathed.

“Talk to me (Y/N). What’s been going on with you? You don’t answer my calls, you don’t write back, hell, I haven’t seen you in a month because you started deadbolting your door. Did I do something?”

Yes, James Potter. Ever so blunt and to the point, your favorite person in the world is sitting on your couch uncomfortable with the fact that you’re not comfortable around him anymore.

You fight back against your instincts to tell him what’s wrong, but the three words escape your mouth before you can even take a breath.

“I love you.”

It’s silent. The floor creaks as you shift your weight onto your other leg. You lock eyes with him for the first time that night, and so many things are going through your head that you hope he’s able to pick up on how you’ve been physically aching, carrying the weight of his love for Lily for years.

James looks like he’s about to shake his head, and you beat him to it. You don’t want pity, and he knows that, but he mutters a consolation into the air.

“It’ll pass.”

No, it won’t. Not this.

You think he knows that too. He smiles sadly, watching you turn shrinking into yourself. You never were good at thinking before you spoke. A tear drips down your cheek as you look at your socks again. Your love for him is too big and too loud for your chest cavity to handle. This love feels like dramatic choral music clashing and banging around in your ribs.

“I’m—”

“Don’t apologize. This one’s on me,” you say, stopping him before he finishes speaking.

Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

“What I was going to say...is that I’m going to have to ask you not to show up to the engagement party. It’ll be better for the both of us. We can start again from there if you want... Peanut...”

The term of endearment hangs in the air. Your dancing heart was a ticking time bomb after all. The fragments hit your insides, tearing you apart as it combusts, and you realize that nothing will be the same after this.

James stands abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He hesitates before he kisses your temple, and for some reason, this feels like a goodbye. After all, when James sets his mind on something, he sees it through. He’s been set on Lily for years.

You’re his best friend, he swears. And there are no words you can think of to deny that.

—

The End

“I don’t know what to say,” he said.

“It’s okay,” she replied. “I know what

we are— and I know what we’re not.”

Lang Leav

[knapptapp]

Elevator- JamesPotter x GN!Reader

WC: 950

You are stuck in a muggle elevator with James Potter, Who wont stop flirting with you

Tags: Fluff, angst(?), Sarcastic reader, Slytherin reader, Flirty James Potter, Insecure reader

A/N: Wrote this from a prompt, trying to dip my toes into the Marauders fandom not a fully fleshed out fic or anything. A little experiment

“This might be a bad time to mention it, but I really like your perfume.”

“Oh shut up,” You said with a scowl as you once again pushed the emergency button.

Professor Corbyn had thought it a wonderful idea to assign the seventh year class a lengthy list of ‘muggle activities’ to complete. She had also thought up the brillant of idea of assigning partners randomly. Though you had your doubts about the “randomness”.

Still, it was a project worth a good chunk of your grade. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't blow it off. Which is how you ended up stuck in an elevator with James fucking Potter. James who thought your perfume was of utmost importance at the moment.

“No seriously, it's quite lovely.”

You ignored him and pressed the call button. A moment passed…..Nothing. Great, not even the phone was working.

“Where did you get it? From Diagon alley or-”

“Can you be useful for once?” You interrupted.

James pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning on, “Can you apparate?”

“No.” You admitted begrudgingly. Getting your license was on your to do list, there just hadn't been enough time. You were really starting to regret not putting it up higher on your list. You fanned yourself with your hand.

“Someone will come for us eventually.” James said with a shrug. He seemed completely care free and not at all worried about the situation at hand.

“Yeah. If we don't die from heatstroke before then.” You settled against the wall opposite of him and slid down till you were seated. It was just a tad bit cooler down on the floor.

“I know how you could cool off.” James said with a smirk. Just in case you hadn't understood his comment, he lifted just the hem of his shirt to reveal a sliver of tanned skin. You quickly looked away, but not before you caught a glimpse of a dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Oh fuck off.”

James copied you and slid down to the floor. Instead of sitting with his legs tucked up to his chest like yours, he instead stretched them all the way out. The elevator was tiny and James’ legs were long, the sides of his red converse knocked against your thighs. Cloth shopping had been another part of the project.

“Have I told you your shoes are ugly?”

“Many times,” James responded unphased, “You just don't like them because they're red.”

“Horrible color.”

“I think you'd look really nice in red. Got one shade specifically in mind actually.”

“Yeah, no” You fidgeted with the fraying sleeve of your dark green jumper. House pride was taken very seriously in Hogwarts. Wearing gryffindor red was an act of betrayal.

“You would,” He insisted, “I even have a jumper that would look perfect on you! Says ‘Potter’ right across the back.”

“Careful now James, I might think you're hitting on me.”

“Did it take you this long to notice?”

You knocked his foot away with your palm. James allowed it before he returned it back to tapping against your thigh. He was such a tease. He had been on this since you two got assigned partners.

“Ha Ha very funny,” You replied dryly.

He tapped his foot rhythmically against your leg, you tried your best to ignore it. The elevator was completely silent. The music had cut off when the elevator had come to a sudden stop with a metallic screech. There was nothing but the sounds of James and your breathing.

Your whole body was on edge. You couldn't help but keep anticipating the worst. Any movement made you feel like the elevator would go crashing to the ground below, You were stuck on the seventh floor and you had heard one to many horror stories.

“I'm bored,” James said, “We should do something.”

“Like what?”

“Why don't we play a game of truth or dare?” suggested James.

“Truth or dare? Seriously?”

“What else do you have in mind?” he replied smugly.

“Fine, let's play.” you agreed reluctantly.

“Okay, I'll start. Truth or dare?” James challenged.

You sat for a moment, mulling over your choices. There weren't many dare options while stuck in an elevator, but everyone and their mothers knew James Potter was a master prankster. He could probably come up with something within a second. Hell, he probably already had fifty dares planned out. Better to play it safe then.

“Truth.”

“Okay..” James pretended to think for a moment, he stroked his chin and gazed up at the roof dramatically, “Why don't you like me?”

Oh. Straight into it. You looked away from him uncomfortably. The thing was, you didn't not like him. Honestly, it was the opposite. But you couldn't let him know that. You would never hear the end of it.

“I don't not like you…You're just loud…” You said carefully.

“I think i’m quite charming honestly,” James smirked.

“Yeah, you think that.” You said with an eye roll

“You don't think I am?” James tilted his head to the side, one loose curl fell in front of his eyes. God damn it. Yes, you wanted to say. I've thought that you are charming since fourth year. But of course, you don't say any of it.

“Not at all.”

“You're forgetting the rules of the game again.” He teased. He leaned forward, only a couple inches closer than before, but still all too close.

“I’m not lying.” You attempted to sound confident and self assured but you couldn't manage to bring your voice above a whisper.

The gods must have heard your prayers because the phone on the wall rang. James and you stared at each other for a moment. He finally pulled his eyes away from you and stood up to answer the phone. You and your feelings were safe for another day.

[mayuichi]

How your partner reacts when you're on your periods.

Include:

Genshin Impact [Heizou, Lyney, Wriothesley, Alhaitham]

Honkai: Star Rail [Veritas Ratio & Kafka]

Bungo Stray Dogs [Tetcho Suehiro & Jouno Saigiku]

Moriarty the Patriot [William James Moriarty]

Content warning: fem!reader (I'm not comfortable enough to include transgender, I don't know enough about it, sorry :(), blood, and just.. anything related to menstrual cycles, mention of past encounters [More into Ratio's part, slightly in Tetcho and Jouno's part, lots lots LOTS of petnames [especially in Kafka's part].

note: im on my periods, im literally dying if im not on some specific painkillers, so im fucking numb and it makes me sleepy but i wanted to do something extremely fluff for it. and i have lost my yellow...

Every art used are the official one (except the chibi of Jouno, Tetcho and William, credit to the rightful owners of which I don't have any name!), I've just poorly edited them!

You have agreed to join your boyfriend for lunch, and so now, you're in his office at the commission. But what you have not expected is that while chatting together, a sharp pain flood your stomach. You curl up, eyes wide from the sudden pain. Heizou stares at you, and chuckles. He grins, crossing his legs, “Is my darling in pain? How sad. Are you on your monthly?„

He isn't taking your pain seriously that's for sure. You give him a death glance that he ignores. He leans closer to nudge your elbow, giving a gentle kiss on your temple. But you pushed him away. Heizou's eyebrows raise, and when you wince in pain, he sighs and moves his chair next to yours. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pressing you against him.

“Baby, it'll be okay. Do you need anything?„ he stares at you. He knows he can't actually understand the pain you're into, but he doesn't want to just leave you like that. He carefully takes your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. His breath brushes against your ear, “I'm here. I know you can handle it. I'll go get some medicines and you stay here, alright?„

It isn't like you would go on a walk right now anyway. He feels bad for leaving you alone, even if for just a short time. He kisses your cheek one last time before hurrying out. You can't do much in the meantime, except bear with the pain.

But when he comes back in with some medicines, he praises you. He gives you a glass of water with it, and waits for you to take them. He is supposed to have work, but honestly... He knows even if he takes a day or two for you, he'll manage in time. Nothing escapes him after all.

All he wants right now is to ensure you're comfort... despite this time. He'll take some paperwork he needs to do anyway to work onto at home. Whenever you need help with something, you just need to call his name, even in the faintest voice possible, and you'll hear his footsteps coming closer.

You need help to stand up without falling? He'll support you. You want him to make your meals? He'll do it, no matter what you want. You need help to shower? He'll be there. You can stain your clothes or the sheets, it won't bother him. He'll change it and clean it.

Even if every month you have the right to see him joking around, if it gets as serious, he will take the time to make it easier. He loves you too dearly to let you go through this by yourself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ☽ ✧˖*°࿐ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lyney and Lynette's magic show. Despite what happened on their first show in the Opera House, they continued. And now, they can even do a second show there! Of course, as his beloved girlfriend, he asked if you could watch over their rehearsal. You couldn't leave him now, could you? So you accepted. And beside, a free show just for you, from your boyfriend and your sister-in-law. Who would refuse?

His piercing gaze is on you, all the time. Only flickering over Lynette from time to time. He wants to make you proud, to let you see how perfect he is in what he does. Well, you already know it, but he wants you to be sure of it. And like a child, you're amazed an every tricks, even the tiniest.

But that joy is soon replaced by a sudden discomfort. Luckily, it's right when they're done. So when you see him head backstage to check on some things, you curl up on your seat. You hoped it wouldn't start now, but sometimes life loves to annoy you. You whine quietly, feeling blood trickle down. It's an awful feeling, but right now you can't do a single thing about it.

Footsteps echo in the empty place, and suddenly nothing. You hesitantly look up, to see his figure towering you on the stage. His eyes are filled with worry. He hates to see you like that. Jumping off the stage, he closes the distance between the two of you and caresses your back carefully.

“Ma chérie, what's wrong? Why are you...„ he sighs. He kneels down before you. He leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “I'm here.„ it isn't much, but that's all you need. You breath out heavily, your cheeks flushed pink. It's embarrassing, but it isn't like it's not natural.

With his gentle strokes on your back, you see Lynette on the stage, staring at the both of you emotionlessly. She then crosses her arms and clears her throat. “... I get it. Wait here.„ you don't actually get what she means, but Lyney just tells you to dismiss it. He knows his sister well after all. She won't do anything bad to you. Plus, she grew rather fond of you too. As long as you don't hurt Lyney, she'll be glad he found the right person for him.

Several minutes after, she comes pack with a small package in hands and places it next to you. She gives you a discreet smile, and proceeds to pull Lyney's ear, which makes him wince in pain. “Come with me, let her some privacy for a minute or two.„ she brings him with her, allowing you to be alone in the Opera House. If we forget about the backstages, but they don't see you.

Opening the box, there's a few protections in it. You're glad she's willing to help you. After some moment alone, Lyney barges in again, and wraps you in his arms. Lynette did for sure tell him.. “I'll fetch you any medicine, anything you need. Just say so, darling. I'll be here.„

He's so loving, especially to his family. And well, aren't you a part of it now? His family is everything, and so are you. He's busy with his duty as a fatui of course, as well as his shows, but whenever he has the time, he checks on you. Either because you accompany him, or by coming home for a bit. But he knows while he's away, he can ensure you to Freminet or Arlecchino. Even if the latter can be dangerous... She has seen great things coming from Lyney ever since he's with you. So if taking care of you means having one of her children being even better, she would do it.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ . ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

The Duke. Someone to fear, to never question. He knows what he does. He may jokes around with some of the prisoners, but one wrong movement and he'll make them understand their place. But if there's one person that can make his heart melt at any of their words, it's his girlfriend. Oh, how much he loves her. She's his everything. The amount of time he mentions her to Sigewinne. It became clear to everyone. If they mess with her, they'll experience Wriothesley's wrath.

And once more, he finds himself thinking of you while doing some paperwork to give to Neuvillette. You're just so much more appealing than some papers.. But he has to do them, so he will. He sighs loudly, the only sound in his office is the paper he puts aside. But then, he hears the door downstairs being opened. At first, he just thinks it's Sigewinne once again, coming to give her report.

But instead, he sees you climbing up the stairs, tears threatening to spill. His mind fills with worry and anger at the thought of you being in pain. Is it because of him, or did someone hurt you? He stands up to meet you, a hand resting on your lower back for support. You cling on his shirt, as if your life depends on it.

He helps you sit down, before his voice reverberates through his office. “Dear, what is it? Did anything happened?„ the worry isn't even hidden in his voice. He just wants you to be okay, but you're currently not. You try your best to not whimper your pain, but it's seemingly impossible. He shushes you, his strong arms envelopping you in a warm embrace.

After some minutes, you manage to croak out your problem. It doesn't faze him. Of course, it isn't something he will ever fully comprehend, but he isn't bothered by it. You aren't the first one he gets with, but you'll be the last for sure. He lets out a relieved sigh. “It's only that? I'm reassured. Let me go find Sigewinne. She will know better than me.„

He kisses your forehead, leaving his office. The minutes seem endless, alone in there. But it's not long until their voices echo. Sigewinne carries some medicine and Wriothesley has a warm patch to press against your belly.

Needless to say, you spend the rest of the day in his arms while he works. He soothes you and goes to warm again the patch whenever you mention it's getting colder. He's careful to carry you back to your quarters when his work is over. He helps you in any way he can and that you need.

He looks tough and cold on the outside, but he's just a softie for you. He wants to give you the best care when you're unwell. And he will do just that for the rest of the week.

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ‧̫‧ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

It's always weird to people. How can Alhaitham has been capable to get a girlfriend? And more specifically, someone like you? It's probably one of the reason why Alhaitham can still handle Kaveh. It's thanks to him he met you. You're Kaveh's best friend at first. And well, now... You're his girlfriend.

You don't actually live with the both of them, but you do spend a lot of time to their place, that much is true. Kaveh is locked in his room, working on his current project. In those moments, impossible to make him get out of his cavern. So you can't call him out for help. Your stomach, or more precisely, your womb is painful. The joy of being a woman one would say!

Yet, you're not sure Alhaitham would be the person the most... suitable to help you. You're in an incapacity to stand up without risking to fall. Your legs are too shaky from the pain. But he's the only one who could help. So you call his name.

Maybe he is too busy reading, or that he is once again wearing his soundproof earbuds. In any case, he just doesn't hear your calls. Whimpers fall from your lips as you support yourself, keeping your hand against the wall. It's painful, and you wish you didn't had to be all alone. You hardly manage to get to the living room.

Finding him reading, you get closer, falling in his lap, your head pressing against his torso. You take the book from his hand and throw it on the other side of the couch. He gives you a cold stare, sighing. “Go on, explain your behaviours.„ he's stern. He doesn't like the actions you just have done.

He waits for an answer, but all you can mutter is that it hurts. You look up at him, trying not to tear up from the pain. He tilts his head, a hint of worry in his eyes. “Mind if you start from the start?„ he wants to help you, but he can't if you don't spit out what troubles you, can he? You just whisper that it's that time of the month, and his eyes open a little wider.

He isn't embarrassed, this man knows. It isn't such topic that could cause him to lose his cool. He's just unsure of what to do. He has read about what could alleviate the pain, but never tried it for.. obvious reasons.

He carefully places you on the couch, so he can stand up and go to the kitchen. Heating some water, he fills some sort of bottle once he thinks it's hot enough. He sets it on the table, gently pushing you to lay down. He then lifts up a blanket, making sure you can't be cold.

After making sure you're comfortable, Alhaitham picks up the bottle once again, and let it settle over your stomach. After what, he pulls a chair to sit on, letting the couch to you only. He strokes your head with one hand, and with the other, he picks his book once again. He can't just leave you alone, knowing that no one would be here in the meantime. So he'll wait for Kaveh to come out of his room to request him to go find some medicines for you.

Even if he isn't one to be overly affectionate, he wouldn't leave you to rot there. He can even read to you if it can occupy you! Well, not that he has any books of your interest but... His voice is soothing enough to guide you to sleep to be sure you won't be in pain that way. And throuhough your nap, he'll be looking over you. Perhaps you've became his weakness, but he loves it. But don't dare try to make him admit it.

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ⋆·˚ ༘ *︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚༊*·˚

Is it wise to have him as your boyfriend? Probably not. Especially when he wants to play a board game with you. The worst is probably chess. You know how to play it, but Veritas... He knows every move you're about to do. He can predict you in an instant. You're too easy to read for him.

But today, it's different. It isn't that he can't predict you but... You aren't even making sense. You seem lightheaded, unfocused. It isn't even fun to play with someone who isn't trying. He sighs and stares at you. It isn't amusing anymore, so he'll find his fun somewhere else.

A smirk spreads on his lips, and he leans in closer. “Oh, dear. Are you so lost now? Is it that you don't believe you will ever beat me?„ he enjoys it. He knows you'll never beat him on his own territory, after all. But you're just... Off. Even his words don't make you flinch. “Even ignoring me now. What will I do of you.„

And yet, you still don't react. That pain in your stomach, those cramps.. They make you incapable to register anything. But when he leans over the table to tower you and sliding two fingers under your chin, your few strength focus on his upcoming words. “Have I fucked you so good last night you're still on cloud nine?„

That grin. It makes you want to punch him so bad. It isn't about that, even if of course, he had done a great job. You let out a soft growl, pushing his hand away. You're tempted to yell at him, but he has nothing to do with your predicament. So you take a deep breath.

You crudely mention your periods, and the colours on his face fade away. As if life has left his body. He didn't saw it coming. He coughs slightly, clearing his throat. He may have forgotten that women like you have those. He straightens himself up, glancing away.

“Ahem... It seems my comments were... Unwelcomed. How could I help you, darling? Perhaps some... some medicines could help the pain?„ you have rarely seen the Veritas Ratio so.. nervous and unsettled. His confident trait disappeared in an instant. You can't help but smile at that.

But he is a man of intellect, he had to study those type of things before. He doesn't know much, but from what he knows, medicines can help, as well as some positions, or even hot water. He gathers some pillows for you, as well as a blanket. He pampers you, not only because he loves you, but certainly in an way to apologise for his inappropriate words.

He'll still have some work to do, but he'll check upon you, he'll make sure to be there if you call for him. And everytime, before leaving you, he makes sure to let you the TV remote, and to kiss your cheek. He may be arrogant, he wouldn't let you down.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ੈ✩‧₊˚ೃ⁀➷˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚.ೃ࿐

Dating a Stellaron Hunter? Are you actually crazy? Well, perhaps you are. But it isn't important now... Is it? Kafka hasn't seen you the whole day. You stayed in your shared bedroom! How impolite of you to not come and say hi. She knocks on the door, her seductive voice reaching your ears. “Sweetie, why don't you come out of your den? It isn't nice to not come greet everyone.„

She doesn't care. She just wants you with her when she's not on a mission. To your silence, she opens the door, clicking her tongue, her heels tapping over the floor. “Tsk tsk, darling. You shouldn't keep me... Oh.„ she sees you, curled up under the blanket, and a giggle escapes her lips. Her heels are the only sound in the room as she approaches the bed.

Kafka sits next to your laying form, her hand reaching out to caress your hair. “Is my baby struggling? How unfortunate. Well, I understand more why you didn't came yet. Come on, come here dolly.„ she slowly cradled you in her arms, kissing your forehead. Her arms wrapped around your waist, she sees the stained sheets and sighs.

“You should've called me. Now, sweetheart. Let's get you cleaned. I'll accompany you to the bathroom, and while you shower, I'll prepare everything, alright? Just think of yourself.„ she helps you stand up, opening the bathroom door and steadying you when you get in the bathtub. She then closes the door behind her, allowing you some privacy.

She knows a bath, even just a shower, can help a little with the pain and the dirty feeling. So while you wash yourself off, she takes off the sheets and casts it aside for now. Pulling on some new ones, she leaves the room to get to the kitchen and prepare a hot water bottle, wrapped in a silk cloth to prevent the heat from burning your poor skin. She also gathers different medicines, in different ways to take.

Once everything is settled on the nightstand, she makes the bed, preparing it in the way you love the most when you need comfort: like a little nest for you to hide in, and for her to join you.

Several minutes pass and you still don't come out, so she knocks on the bathroom door. “Princess, is everything alright ? Do you need help?„ her voice, it's so evident she can hypnotise anyone with it. It's what you love the most, with the way she treats you.

You tell her she can come in, and she sees you, waiting for her to help you stand up. Your feet are wet now, and with how unsteady you are, you could fall and hurt yourself. She can't allow her baby to get hurt now, can she?

Kafka tends to your every needs, helping you drying and dressing up, showing you the different medicines. Once you take it, she lets you get comfortable in your nest. She carefully places the hot bottle against your belly. Even if the medicine is supposed to ensure the cramps aren't as painful, she wants to make sure you won't be in pain.

She lets a water bottle on the nightstand in case you get thirsty, and also gathers books on it. As well as the TV remote. She won't let you get bored. She closes the curtains, letting you use the soft lights of the room to be all cozy.

She'll go back to Blade and Silver Wolf, but every now and then, she comes in. And if she doesn't and you need something, she warned you to use your phone. It's one of the rare time where she'll be at your services. She knows how painful it can be to some women, and she's glad she doesn't experience it that way. But she can't help the pity when she sees her beloved in pain every month. So all she wants is to pamper you until you're feeling better.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.✧☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It was weird. To be seen outside with a Hunting Dog. But you got used to the stares eventually, and he did too. On his days off, if he even has some, he isn't a Hunting Dog but you're lover. But needless to say there is time you don't see him in a week. Those times.. They make you sad, or upset. But you can't just ask him to change that. He wishes to keep on going, and you just want to support him. So you will.

And whenever Tetcho comes back home, hearing the door slamming shut, you come to him like a happy puppy to its master. He loves it. It's so sweet of you. Most of the time, when he warns you beforehand of his arrival, you prepare a little something for it. Either being a gift, a snack, or even sometimes some more.. naughty things.

But today, he doesn't even see you at the doorstep! He calls out your name when his head pops from the living room's doorframe. And he sees you watching TV with a blanket over you. He smiles at the sight. It's so nice, to come home to his beloved. Even perhaps his future wife when the day will come!

He steps closer, sitting beside you and instantly wraps his arms around your waist. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, taking in your sweet scent. You usually wore either sweet scents like vanilla, chocolate, and such, or flowery ones. You look down at him with a faint smile.

He hasn't seen the pills over the table. Well, good for you, it avoids some unecessary questions. It's always so cute to see him wanting to spend some quality time with you once he's home. Under your confused gaze, he takes the remote and turns of the TV, before trying to carry you bridal style. But you're fast to ask him to stop.

And so he does. He places you back down on the sofa, and tilts his head. “... Is something wrong baby?„ he inquires in a low yet gentle tone. You look away in embarrassment. It isn't easy to actually mention anything relating your menstruation, but well.. You couldn't let him worry. In a whisper, barely audible, you admit the issue.

His cheeks take a soft pink tint. Tetcho hasn't seen that coming, but it doesn't change the fact he'll spend quality time there! He slowly reaches out to squeeze your hand in his, “Have you taken medicine for the pain? Do you need me to go get some? Or would you like some hot water?„

You shake your head vigorously. That man is so caring. You point the box of pills on the table, and he nods. Yet, he still checks how many remains. “There won't be enough for the week.. I'll get you some when you'll be napping.„ he smiles. He's glad the medicine works their magic on you. He gets you back under the blanket, to the only exception he's beside you now, under it too.

And instead of watching some sad and upsetting news, you just get on some random kids' shows to keep in the background while he cuddles you. He has too much love to share. He faces pain and death on a daily basis, he can't allow it upon you yet, not while he's here. He'll always do anything within his powers to make it more comfortable for you.

⌦ .｡.:*♡◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

How can someone like him be so... Upsetting ? It's incredible. You hate his guts, and yet, it made you fall for him. You fell for someone you didn't wanted to love. But you can't actually complain.. Jouno makes you happy, doesn't he? He isn't so often home, but whenever he's, he loves to piss you off.

Starting by the tiniest of it. He knows cooking isn't what you exceed in, so whenever he doesn't smell any food scent in particular, he mocks you for ordering. But today, the scent in the apartment... it makes him smirk.

He can scent it, your blood. He has bitten hard enough on you during those nights to recognise that scent. But if you would've been in danger, you would've called him, and no one could have bitten you so hard. So you could only have your monthly.

Coming in the bedroom without knocking, he leans against the doorframe and stares in your direction. If he could, he would bury you with his gaze. “My, my, what do we have here? Someone laying there like a little worm, doing nothing at all.„

“To say I'm almost getting killed while you lazily wander around, I've truly decided to have such a girlfriend. What a pity, isn't it?„ you know deep down he just messes with you. But you hate it. Right now, you wish he would just shut up and leave you alone.

“Come on, it doesn't hurt that much. Beside, I've had worst, didn't I? It's not like you're getting stabb-!„ he abruptly stops. It surprises him. He was too busy mocking you he hadn't seen the pillow coming to his face. His eyebrows raise, and he sighs. He can sense you, there, helplessly curling up. He knows you had taken some medicines that were just a little effective, but not enough to calm you down.

Jouno doesn't want to show his weaknesses, not to you, not to anyone. He has been weak enough before, he can't let himself be there again. But he can't let you suffer alone. So he takes some steps closer, sitting on the bed. And reluctantly, he opens his arms, “... Come on. Before I change my mind.„

Your eyes widen in surprise, but you wouldn't deny such an offer. You slowly crawl to him, sitting in his lap and nestling your head against his chest. His arms wrap around your frame, embracing you against him. His breath is softly brushing against your hair, and you could hear his heartbeat like that.

You're content, his left hand caressing your back in soothing motions, as he tries to shush your whimpers, and take your pain away. “There, there. You're not alone. I'm back home. It'll be alright. The medicine will eventually work. For now, take a nap. Once you're asleep, I will get you some more to try.„

His voice, it soothes you. He isn't bad deep down, it just takes time for him to let his guard down, even for you. But he loves you, oh so dearly. If his morals weren't there, he could kill for you. You're his only weakness, the only thing he'd get on his knees for.

As sleep embraced you, you could hear a faint murmur falling from his lips. “I love you too much to let you stay in that pain, darling.„

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The famous Lord of Crime. Throuhough London he is known, even feared, despite no one knowing his true nature. No one beside his associates and you, his fiancée. Well, he hasn't properly proposed to you yet, but you both have talken about your wishes and.. It's obvious he wants to marry you. You have caught his heart. And Louis is thankful for that! Better you than Sherlock apparently...

And in the morning, William has seen a stain on the sheets... Ah, that explains your groggy behaviour when you left for the bathroom. It makes him chuckle, he can't lie. But it pains him, truly! He has to attend to work today... So while waiting for the bathroom to be free, he goes to Louis, informing him of a “very important mission„ only he can take care of.

Louis rolls his eyes at the mention of your menstruation. But it made him laugh that William takes it so seriously. The latter goes and changes the sheets while waiting for you. He knows you'll take quite the time, so he borrows the second bathroom. Wearing his signature brown three piece suit.

When you emerge out of the bathroom, he comes to meet you half way, giving you a lingering kiss as he takes your hand. “You're quite aggressive this morning, aren't you?„ he chuckles sweetly. His laugh.. It's the sweetest thing you ever heard. He guides you to the library, letting you rest on a plush armchair. Louis comes behind him with a soft and fluffy blanket to put over you.

“Just rest for today, darling. I am sorry I have to let you, but you know how it is.. I can't do otherwise for now. But I'm sure Louis will be wonderful to take care of you while I'm away.„ he gives a slight nod to his younger brother, before leaning to kiss your forehead.

And so, Louis is the one to tend to your needs while your fiancé is away. He even asks Fred if he can't go find some things, so he could make a concoction that could help your pain. Even if he dislikes the idea of William getting away from him, Louis appreciates you. You aren't disrespectful, on the opposite. He even likes the way William is around you.

You're glad you're accepted in their little family, and even toward his associates and friends. You busy yourself reading books or chatting with Louis. He even gets you the perfect tea for you.

And by the time William gets home, you're fast asleep on the chair. You look so peaceful, he can't bring himself to wake you up. So he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, and presses a kiss on your cheek. Exceptionally, he spends his time in the library instead of his office, just to keep an eye over you.

Every chat he can have, he's cautious to not be too loud. And when you'll stir awake, he'll cautiously step closer to ask if you're feeling any better. The rest of the week goes on the same way, and every night, William carefully carries you to bed, and soothes you to sleep, caressing your belly.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚︵‿︵‿୨✧༺♥༻∞୧‿︵‿︵‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuchi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 3.

Summary: Your second year at Oxford brings with it Farleigh, much to your delight, and you get to learn about Farleigh's personal nemesis (which he rolls his eyes at every time you call him that) Oliver. It turns out Oliver's actually very lovely, and does Felix quite the favour one unassuming morning. Farleigh's not happy to see him again, but Felix is.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: heavy drinking by everyone at the pub including the reader, and 'dog' being used to demean the reader once.

A/N: 5101 words. much longer than the last ones, and we finally have oliver!! very excited to FINALLY be able to write their weird little fuckin dynamic at oxford, i love them all very much. im a bit unhappy with the pacing of the beginning but i like how it picks up once oli is introduced, but also the bar scene is SO LONG and i will not apologise i love them your honour. id be mighty grateful for any feedback or if you have any thoughts in general about the story, i stare at so many kind asks in my inbox lovingly, i will answer them very soon i promise!! also this is so unedited, sorry lol.

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo @mattymurderdocks @flowerecs @weepingwitchofthewest @ilovemydinoboi @marsmallow433 @king0flies @cashtons-wife

----

At first you don't notice him for who he is. At first you hear about Farleigh's insufferable tutoring partner. At first, Oliver Quick means absolutely nothing to you.

The most important part of your second year of college is that Farleigh has finally conceded to joining you and Felix at Oxford. Once, during the last Summer break, while Felix had been off confronting his at-the-time good friend Eddie, after Farleigh had told him Eddie and Venetia had been sleeping together, you and Farleigh had gotten high in the maze to avoid the fallout.

Since the Cattons were paying for his education, he'd admitted that he wanted to remove himself as much as possible from his mother's legacy and memory and the guilt Sir James held about his sister. It would be hard to do at a college where he would be a legacy student because of his mother's attendance. You think you partly understood; certain people, usually staff, liked to kiss your ass when they found out about your own legacy status and the people your parents became, you're not so sure they'd treat Farleigh the same, all things considered.

But he's out of options.

Sometimes you're not sure what to make of Farleigh; his strange place in the Catton family was never something they seemed to like to discuss around you, but Farleigh was far more candid about it. So when he pulls these stunts, gets himself kicked out of schools, puts himself in precarious positions despite how you knew he genuinely enjoyed academics, especially literature, you can't help but wonder why.

"Don't try and pathologize it," you could hear him rolling his eyes as he attempted to scale the minotaur statue in the middle of the maze. Looking up at him from where you're laying in the grass, you watch him rise above the walls into the sunshine. Maybe it's dangerous, maybe he should stop, get down, be safe, but he looks far more content up there, on the edge. Maybe he feels freer up there, even if he knows it's not true.

So now he's with you and Felix at Oxford, a first year only academically, he slots perfectly into the group of friends you'd both already managed to collect.

The point is, you have no idea that of everything that happens in those first few weeks of your second year, the parties, the hook ups, the social dances you found yourself doing, that the guy Farleigh likes to complain about from his tutoring sessions - Oliver, Farleigh always says it with an eye roll - would mean so much more to you than you'd ever expect.

Everything about the man you would come to find extraordinary, from the outside, was completely, and charmingly, ordinary. Including how you'd met him.

Felix had overslept again, and threw a pillow at the door when you'd stuck your head into his room to remind him that he had classes. You'd left yourself enough time to walk, but Felix would have to at least run if he didn't get his ass up soon, or would ride his bike instead. Its on your way, so you duck your head in to at least check it there.

What you don't expect is the unassuming man with dark hair to have a gentle, almost caressing hand on the tire of Felix's bike. When you make a confused noise, he about jumps a foot in the air.

"Sorry," he seems to shrink in from himself, recoiling from the bike like he'd been caught red handed, "just admiring." He babbles, but can't meet your eyes. For a moment, you look over him, before turning your attention to the ludicrously expensive mountain bike that Felix has always taken for granted.

"It is a nice bike," you find yourself grinning, stepping towards the bike and giving the tire a squeeze, both as a show of your own appreciation, and to test the pressure, just in case, "didn't mean to spook you..." And you trail off, prompting for his name, holding your hand out.

It hangs in the air for a moment, and the man before you gives you a proper look over. The way he holds himself, as if trying to take up as little space as physically possible, but his eyes, his gaze, oh it longed to swallow whole every detail of everything he cast it upon.

"Oliver," he says after a very long moment. Despite his demure voice, there's something deliberate, unwavering about it, "Quick," he follows it up with, "I'm Oliver Quick." And he ducks his gaze, sparing you from his intensity as you shake his hand.

"Oliver Quick," you turn the name over on your tongue; the same Oliver that Farleigh's been complaining about, you ponder, before giving him a smile, "I'm Y/N." As soon as the handshake drops, Oliver's doing that thing again, shrinking back and looking uncomfortable in the space.

"Yeah, I think I've seen you around," Oliver nods but can't meet your gaze, "around campus, I mean -" Which reminds you -

"Fuck, I'm almost running late," you hissed, spinning on your heel, "sorry to run Ollie, you seem lovely!" You call over your shoulder as you bolt to class, hearing him calling out;

"No trouble," and awkwardly trailing off the further away you get, "you seem... very nice too..."

Bursting through the door to your tutorial with five minutes to spare, your lecture looks up from his desk for a brief moment. Giving him a nod, you try and slip past him to grab a seat by one of your friends, chatting near the back, when he raises his voice.

"No Mister Catton today either, I presume," he says with a sigh, and you again check you watch before plastering on an apologetic smile.

"He'll be here," you assured, "promise." The professor did not seem impressed.

Sitting next to India, she immediately greets you with a hug.

"Felix hung over?" She grins, and you anyway in respond with a smirk.

"After last night? I'd assume so."

"King's Arms tonight?"

"Of course."

When he does eventually show up, it's ten minutes late with an apology about how his bike had gotten a flat tire. The professor, just tells him to take a seat, and Felix does with many placating thanks, sliding into one of the open few open seats in the row in front of yours. Ruffling his hair, he throws a faintly guilty grin over his shoulder at you and India, telling you both not to start.

After the tutorial, you fully intend of having lunch with India, as the two of you don't have any other classes until the afternoon, the two of you walk with Felix to where he'd stashed his bike before his next lecture. Except -

"That's not yours," you look at the bicycle curiously, "I thought you had a flat."

"Had," Felix agrees, wheeling the unfamiliar bike from the rack with a grin, "bloody angel of a man lent me his."

"Of course someone just gave you their bike," India chuckles, reaching out to give Felix's shoulder a squeeze before he mounts the bike with intent to take off.

"Lent," Felix grinned back, "I'm gonna give it back."

"And what about yours?" You asked, eyebrows raised.

"He took it back for me."

"Your hero," you laughed, shaking your head at him.

"My absolute hero," Felix agreed, "I'll tell you about it later, okay? King's Arms tonight?"

And once he's away, and you and India are on your way to the campus cafe, her arm tucked in hers, she gives you a knowing, almost exasperated smile.

"You're already trying to figure out how to fix his tire, aren't you?" Her nails dig a little too much and her smile's a little too sly and her tone almost grates against a thought you don't like to consider, so you push it to the back of your mind and give an embarrassed little smile.

"Was it that obvious?"

"No, but you are," she leans in, lips almost against your ear, smile in her voice, "endearingly predictable," she murmurs against the shell of your ear, "you're always wrapped up in him."

"Right now I seem to be rather wrapped up in you," you rest your free hand on hers, tucked into the crook of her elbow, taking her hint and lowering your voice to something flirty.

"And make darling Felix wait?" She teased in response. Instead of answering her properly, you ask her back to your dorm under the guise of lunch and she happily accepts.

The bike shop is closed and Felix has class and you can't even be sure if this supposed bike saviour has even returned Felix's bike by now; there's no waiting, but India likes feeling prioritised, so you keep all that to your self. India likes to feel important in Felix's life. Anyone who Felix spends even a little of his time and attention on ends up rather addicted to that feeling, to feeling special to Felix Catton, and India is one of the many who have picked up on your own importance to the man himself.

So you're not dating India. You're also not not dating India; you're a placeholder of sorts, which would be cruel to you if you didn't like her well enough or if you weren't satisfied taking your fun with her. It would also probably be cruel to India if she knew the truth, that Felix thought she was hot and wasn't ready to commit to maybe dating her, but that he was getting that way he sometimes got about people, that he wanted them around, wanting to not share them, but without devoting himself to them. That's where you come in. A placeholder. A proxy. An almost. Someone who makes this pretty girl feel important and close to Felix. Someone Felix isn't worried about falling in love with India even while keeping her happy and around.

When you arrive late to the King's Arms with your own around India's shoulders, Felix lights up while Farleigh, from beside him, narrows his eyes with a smirk.

"Cute shade of lipstick," he says slyly, even as he moves over at Felix's insistence to fit both yourself and India in the booth beside him. Farleigh flicks the collar of the shirt you'd thrown on in a rush to get dressed for afternoon classes, "on both of you."

"Are you jealous, Farleigh?" India grins, taking it all in stride as you pull your collar out with your thumb to try and inspect it. India's lipstick was smeared faintly against the collar from where she'd been enthusiastically kissing her way down your jaw a few hours earlier.

"Of course," Farleigh's sly smile widens to a cocky grin, and he winks at her, while she leans over you to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth with a wicked grin.

"Right in front of her partner?" Annabel, Felix's latest fling was on his other side, reaching over Felix to shove Farleigh's shoulder with a scandalised laugh.

"Not really together," India mused, even as she shifted to lean heavily against you, her arm around you and tucking herself up by your side. You nodded in kind, shrugging as Felix had to hide his laughter in his pint.

"And besides," Farleigh declares in a voice you knew all too well, "if anyone knows how to share it's Y/N," with a cheshire-cat smile and making a show of putting his hand far up your thigh under the table. Surprised by the outright boldness of it all, Felix, who had been trying to take a sip to cover his amusement, ends up snorting beer out of his nose as he laughs, which sets the whole table off.

It's later in the night, several rounds of drinks and plates of chips, when you finally remember to ask Felix about his bike. There's this look in his eyes as he recounts the details, how he'd somehow gotten on the wrong side of something small and sharp when he'd been found by his 'absolute hero'.

"Ollie," he says brightly, "Ollie - Oliver - something, I don't -" he's babbling, and though he doesn't at the time, both yourself and Farleigh react, though in vastly different ways.

"Oliver?" Farleigh draws out the name with disdain, like it's done him some sort of personal affront, or set off a bad smell, judging by his expression.

"Don't make that face," Felix rolls his eyes, giving Farleigh a good-natured shove, but it's all becoming background noise to you as you glance over your shoulder. In your mind, all you can focus on the brief but captivating moments you shared with a blue-eyed Oliver just this morning. As if by fate, when you finally come back to reality, and realise you're staring at the bar, you see those same blue eyes staring back at you, intense and surprised.

"There he is!" Behind you, Felix's voice raises above the din of the pub with barely restrained glee, "Ollie! Oliver! Oliver!" And immediately those blue eyes snap to your attention-grabbing best friend, "come over here, mate!" Felix insists, and you drop your gaze with a faint smile.

As Felix loudly and insistently vies for Oliver's attention and company, you briefly raise your gaze, only to see the disdain on Farleigh's face having grown immensely.

Oliver. Farleigh's classmate Oliver. Insufferable tutoring Oliver. Know-it-all Oliver. 'Thus' Oliver. No regard for style in his academics or his wardrobe Oliver.

Felix's hero, Oliver.

Considering how much joy Farleigh took from ribbing you at every given opportunity, just to see your squirm for his amusement, you supposed you could take some joy from his discomfort in this moment. When he sees your smug smile he scowls at you.

"This guy's my fucking hero," you've heard that warmth in Felix's voice a hundred times over, "just telling everyone how you saved my ass today," you wonder how long it will take Oliver to fall for him too.

Oliver, for his part, plays at being abashed as the rest of the group gives him faint compliments, gaze surprisingly shallow as he takes you all in. Keeping your own eyes down for the moment, you take the cigarette from India that you'd been sharing with her. You quickly reach into Felix's jean pocket beside you for the lighter you know is there, and when you look up to light it, cigarette poised between your lips, you see Oliver's gaze momentarily focused on the lack of space between yourself and Felix, where your hand had disappeared. Felix, you know without even having to look at him, hasn't even looked away from Oliver once.

"Take a seat, I owe you a drink," Felix grins, and is already shoving the few people on his left, before you put a hand on his arm to get him to settle down.

"Could you get the next round, India?" You ask her quietly, and though she hesitates for a moment, she relents, considering it was meant to be her shout after all.

Oliver is hesitating as India stands and smooths out her skirt, heading for the bar, and finally Felix remembers that most people's worlds don't revolve around him.

"Oh, sorry, are you with friends?"

Another moment of deliberation from Oliver, before he finally relents to Felix, and agrees to join them. Looking around, there's a chair next to a table behind Farleigh that was going unused, or -

When you pat the now empty seat at the end of the booth beside yourself, you're not looking at Oliver. Chin in your hand and cigarette poised between your fingers, you're giving Farleigh a grin that's all teeth, while he looks like he's trying to stave off a sudden tension headache.

"Come here, Oliver Quick," you refuse to explain your smug smile, "I don't bite."

"Yes they do," Farleigh huffs in irate response, to which most of the rest of the group cracks up. The leather beside you shifts, and you can feel the heat Oliver radiates before you even look at him.

"Quick, Oliver Quick!" Felix, behind you, is muttering almost to himself, before adding, "wait, how did you know that?" And throwing himself practically over your shoulder as you'd turned to face Oliver properly.

"We met this morning," you say quietly, gaze fixed on Oliver's, on the way he's taking you both in. With Felix's chin on your shoulder, the two of you cheek to cheek and watching him with interest, it could be enough to send anyone else running. But his gaze isn't the shallow one he'd ghosted across the others, he's drinking this moment, and the both of you, in. Smile stretching wide across your face and you tip your head against Felix's, "just as lovely as I thought," and turning your face even slightly towards Felix means your lips against his temple, not that either of you seem to mind, "your hero."

"My fuckin' hero," Felix agrees adamantly, though you and he sit back as India approaches with a tray of pints and an exasperated look.

"And you've given up my seat," she sighs, placing the drinks on the table for everyone else to take their share. Farleigh's already passive-aggressively reached behind himself to grab the extra empty chair, and you promise to make it up to her with a heavy layer of implications that the rest of the table snickers at.

Introductions are made and drinks are had and the night carries on apace until you, at the very least, felt like you could call yourself reasonably wasted. Despite how quiet Oliver is in the general conversation, Felix makes a point of always including him, arm around your shoulders so he can lean across you to talk to him, while Oliver just tried to keep up.

Everything about Oliver shouted that these people weren't his people; his clothes, his accent, his vernacular, his very unfamiliarity with who so many of them were considering their families were often titans of industry. Still, you respected the effort he was making to keep up. Whenever even the hint of a joke at Oliver's expense could be felt in the air, Felix shut it down, and though it started out subtle, it became less so as the night wore on; the grateful look on Oliver's face, even as he tried to duck to hide it, said how much he appreciated the gesture.

It's decided almost unanimously by the time you have to buy a round that it should be the first round of shots for the table. Several more would be to come, but you were getting tequila, and all the fanfare that came with it.

Getting back to the table you find Oliver's slid into your spot by Felix. Though he tries to apologise and get up, you shush him, insisting it's fine as you sit down next to him with the tray of shots topped with lime wedges, and the shot glass half full of salt for the table the bartender had kindly provided.

"You do know this is why I was late to my tutorial this morning," Felix still helped himself to a shot glass with lime as the salt was being passed around the table.

"Salt?" Oliver frowned at the glass in front of him, "lime?"

"You've never done tequila shots before?" Farleigh scoffed, holding India's hand up in front of himself where she'd offered it to him to apply salt.

"No, I haven't," is all Oliver can say awkwardly, watching as Farleigh sprinkled a line of salt across the back of India's aloft hand, licking it up in one swift motion before he took the shot and bit the lime in quick succession.

"Salt, shot, lime," you give Oliver a nudge to bring his attention back to you.

"Salt, shot, lime," Oliver repeats, looking from his glass to the glass full of salt that Felix had reached over and brought to your side of the table, "do I have to lick the salt off of someone else?"

"Not necessarily," Felix says from his other side, while Annabel giggled and allowed him to apply salt to her hand.

"More fun that way," she adds coyly.

"Not unless you want to," your own shot glass sits untouched, salt now sitting between both your glasses.

"Do you- should I-" Oliver's stumbling over his words, fidgeting with the end of the lime.

"Lick it off their neck," Farleigh barked from across the table, and though you tried to tell Oliver that he didn't have to do anything like that, and Felix's disappointed admonishment of his cousin, the entire rest of the table, who had finished their own shots and were now invested in the drama, light up with agreement.

"You're so crass, you're gonna give him the wrong idea," Felix groaned, rolling his eyes with frustration.

"I love Y/N but I don't think there is a wrong idea about them -"

"Watch what the fuck you say about them, Farleigh -"

"Watch what I say about your fucking dog-?"

"I'll lick their neck!" Oliver announces at the top of his lungs, interrupting the vicious barb, and the way Felix had practically leapt across half the table in a sudden fury. For a long moment, tense silence hangs in the air, Farleigh half out of his chair, wearing a sneer, and Felix braced over the table with white-knuckled fists pressed into the woodgrain. Then, as Felix sits back down and things begin to ease, once again all eyes return to Oliver, who's shifting in his seat, looking at you with almost apology in his eyes, "if- if you're okay with that."

After a beat, you break into a self deprecating smile.

"I do like getting my neck licked," you laughed, and immediately angled your head and pulled the collar of your shirt to the side so he could have a better angle and more of your shoulder to apply salt. The tension dropped almost entirely as everyone but Farleigh and Felix burst out in cheers. Chatter arose again as Oliver fumbled with the salt, but you caught Felix's eyes from behind him. Tension in his brow that you longed to smooth away, and discomfort in his gaze, but when you smiled you could see him take a breath, and smile back.

"I won't bite," it comes as a surprise when you hear Oliver say this, so quiet only you can hear as he diligently applies a sprinkle of salt to the soft skin of where your throat meets your shoulder, "promise," you can't see his expression but you think you can hear him smirking. It actually sounds almost like flirting.

India's been glaring at you across the table whenever she hasn't been flirting overtly with Farleigh for the past half an hour. So you flirt back.

"Not even if I ask nicely?" You murmur back, trying to repress the thrill that the whole moment was giving you. You hear the faintest, momentary rumble of a laugh from Oliver before you feel his hand on your thigh as if to steady himself, and his tongue on your neck. It's barely a second of contact, the delicate caress of his mouth as he licked the line of salt clear from your skin. Quickly, he then takes the shot, and swallows before biting down on the lime, making a pained face as the table cheered.

His hand is still on your thigh; his grip is tight.

As he's spluttering and grinning and Felix is clapping him on the back for the effort, he's rather abashedly offering himself to you, if you'd like to repeat the same salt process on him -

"You've done enough for your first shot, Ollie," you told him with a fond nudge, happily applying salt to the back of your own hand, completing the ritual with far less fanfare. Still, when you glance past Oliver to Felix, you see the way he's regarding the newcomer, with a kind of awe and warmth. This too you know well.

Crammed so close in the booth, Felix's arm stays around Oliver's shoulders for most of the rest of the night, and while no-one can see it, Oliver's hand remains on your thigh. Sometimes he taps along to the music of the pub that you've already tuned out, sometimes he's rubbing small circles with his thumb, or give you a squeeze when he's laughing at a joke, but it never waivers.

The more drunk you become, the more you find yourself leaning into him, and you begin to tune out the conversation, focusing only on your drink, the warmth of Oliver and his hand on you, and on the sensation of Felix's hand playing with your hair since his arm was around Oliver's shoulders, and you're leaning your head against him.

Everything's become blurry, your brain is still trying to catch up after you take another shot from muscle memory alone when Farleigh starts insisting on Oliver shout the next round, and for that round to be jaeger bombs.

"We just did shots," you shake your head with a faint frown, but the movement makes you feel all kind of queasy.

"You tapping out?" Farleigh, in much better spirits considering how many he'd consumed, is all wide, challenging smiles full of teeth.

"Nope," you again shake your head, against your better judgement, "never ever ever." Everything is spinning, even with your eyes closed.

"Then you shouldn't be letting Ollie snake his way out of paying for his round," Farleigh sounds all kinds of smug, and despite how you're all kind of done with him for tonight, and Oliver is trying to insist that he's not trying to wiggle out of paying for a round, the rest of the table have apparently taken up Farleigh's crusade. They're booing him, hissing at him, while Farleigh's smugness screams social triumph; you can feel Oliver's fingers twitching on your thigh, like he wants to be fidgeting but can't bring himself to let you go.

"Fine," Oliver relents to the peer pressure, letting you go and throwing his hands in the air, "can you move a sec?" He asks, and you shuffle out to let him past, before scooting back in and back beside a once more frustrated Felix.

Farleigh argues that it's the rules of the pub when Felix asks him to give Oliver a break, but you don't really hear them. You've cleared enough space on the table in front of you to be able to cross your arms on the table, laying your head on your arms to try and see if it would help. Felix is rubbing soothing circles on your back as he argues with Farleigh, probably out of pure habit, so you try and focus on that sensation, and picking a point that you see that you can focus on.

Everything's sideways, the bar, the people, the street outside, but it doesn't matter. In the moments you find yourself focusing on Oliver in the cool light of the bar, everything else falls away. He looks antsy and uncomfortable, watching the bartender pour the shots, wallet in his hand. You'd have paid in a heartbeat if Farleigh hadn't been so insistent on attacking Oliver's pride. Everything else about him was so charmingly ordinary, perhaps that's why Farleigh was infuriated by him, and why he'd attacked Oliver's pride, one of the few things that Farleigh probably believed Oliver had of value to himself.

Tomorrow, you and Farleigh were having words.

Tonight, you wanted to somehow help Oliver without making any kind of big deal about it. Problem was, you weren't sure how. You weren't even sure if you were capable of walking in straight line right now.

"Fi -" when you turn your head to your other side, you see Felix, half finished a cigarette, with a pensive look on his face as he too was watching Oliver. When he looks at you there's a moment that the two of you share, of understanding, of compassion and a shared goal, "can you get me a glass of water?" You asked, knowing he'd take the hint. Thankfully, he smiles at you, the two of you shuffling once more so he could get out of the booth and head towards Oliver and the bar.

Leaning on the end of the booth, you wait for Felix to return before you sit back down, instead focusing on the interaction between the two men at the bar. It's not that you can hear them, but you can see the grateful but anxious look in Oliver's eyes, and the way he can't look away from Felix's smile, and something sharp and bright and intrigued lights up in your chest.

There's a moment as the interaction begins winding down, when Felix takes the tray of drinks, and looks back at your gathered group of friends. His eyes meet yours, faint flicker of familiar affection passing in the next moment as he says something else to Oliver before he's making a beeline back to the group.

"Thank you, Ollie!" He announces brightly, much to the cheer and delight of the rest of the group once the jaeger bombs are set down at the table. Caught up in the sudden influx of joy, you chant Ollie's name, clapping along, not even realising that since you'd let go of the booth you were starting to take on a lean.

"You're fucking legless," Felix crows with laughter, who had already slid back into the booth and was now taking you by the arm and sitting you back down beside himself, "I'm cutting you off, you're on the waters now," he joked, arm around you to steady you, though you weren't inclined to disagree. Thankfully, in the next moment, a water was being placed in front of you, and a cheer was once again rising from the group as Oliver rejoined you all, bashful smile on his face as everyone was lavishing praise on him for following through with buying the round.

The glass was cold and clear and faintly frosted, few ice cubes floating delicately on top of the pint of water before you, looking absolutely perfect in this golden, humid pub. Even just reaching out and holding the cold glass of water in your hands seemed to make everything a little less blurry at the edges.

As you dragged the glass towards you, surprised by your sudden craving for fresh, cold water, praise tumbles from your lips, words half blurring together, and Oliver takes his seat once more beside you.

"Ollie, you're my fucking hero."

[inkdrinkerworld]

big beefy rugby boy james who always insists on calling out slightly chubby reader whenever she comes to his games (which is almost always) making a big show of it and r is like he’s such an idiot and he loves me and isn’t afraid to show it wtf is this man

sirius and remus are over the dramatics james pulls when he learns that you're able attend one his games.

"baby!" james is practically screaming when he spots you in his jersey and a pair of jeans shorts that make your ass look fantastic.

it's rude to james that you chose to wear those, when he has to be on the pitch for 80 minutes.

"hi jamie," him and his team are warming up when you reach, so you get to lean over the railing and push his gelled his backwards even more.

"you look pretty," he coos, hands reaching for your face as you lean further over the railing.

james is aware of his teammates eyes on you both, probably rolling their eyes at how lovesick james is but he doesn't care.

he's of the firm belief that if they had partners as wonderful as you were they'd understand his innate need to have his hands on you and shower you in compliments.

"m'just in your shirt," you should've known better than to say that. anything that isn't agreement won't work for james.

james turns to his best friends who are stretching, "moony, doesn't she look just perfect?" he asks remus, pulling away from you a little, so his friend has a good look at you.

"perfect as ever," remus winks at you and james nods- pleased.

he turns to sirius, "siri, what do you think?"

sirius rolls his eyes, "you know full well the girl looks like a doll."

james hums, turning back to you. you're thoroughly embarrassed, his other teammates are nodding in agreement. "see? you're like a fucking painting- need your picture hung in the louvre, m'heart."

your cheeks blaze hot as coals under his palm, "go warm up," you try rushing him off but james pulls you closer, meeting your lips with his own.

"swear they'd sell out more often if you were there," he flirts again and your belly swims with the knowledge that your boyfriend finds you the most beautiful person in the world- and with james you know it's not just your physical body, but also your personality.

"stop flirting with me," you whine weakly, and you're luckily saved from more sweet words by james' coach calling for him.

"i love you!" he shouts as he runs off, chuckling when you hide your face behind your palms.

[moonstruckme]

i’ve been meaning to request this for awhile because i love the idea, what if poly!marauders x animagus!reader and reader’s animal counter part is a raccoon so they call reader bandit as their nickname for the group. and maybe reader naturally has dark circles under their eyes and they prefer to be awake at night? maybe they steal little tokens from their partners like rings and shirts all the time too lol. idk if this interests you but if so i’d love to read it babes! -🌶️

Hi Pepper! This was my first attempt at writing animagus!reader and it felt a bit clumsy but I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting my love <3

poly!marauders x animagus!reader ♡ 742 words

“Where are they?” Sirius asks, stalking into the common room. 

Remus doesn’t look up from his book, not needing to wonder who Sirius is asking about. “They crashed right after class.” He glances out the window. “But it’s almost dark, they should be up soon. Missing something?”

“My rings.” Sirius holds up ten bare fingers. “Took them off to shower after class, and now they’re gone.” 

“Ew,” James says, coming in with two cups of tea. He passes one to Remus, handle first. “It’s like you’re naked.” 

Sirius harrumphs. “You wish, Prongs.” 

“Have you tried checking their stash?” Remus asks, flipping his page. 

Both James and Sirius look at him quizzically. “You know where it is?” 

Remus sighs. His bones creak and pop as he stands. “Come on,” he says. “I’ll show you.” 

Your boyfriends mostly stay out of their dorm during the day because it’s so quiet and dreary. You’ve got all the curtains drawn shut, not even the tiniest ray of sunlight allowed to permeate your den, and you’ve burrowed underneath the covers of your bed for good measure. Remus leads the boys to the top corner of your bed, pointing to what appears to be a pile of shirts you’ve stowed behind the bedpost. 

James crouches bemusedly, but at Remus’ nod, he pulls the top shirt aside. Sirius sees the glint of metal and drops to his haunches beside James, looking at the treasures you’ve nestled within the pile of shirts. He curses quietly, gathering the rings he’d been wearing that morning along with some he hadn’t seen for months. They clink together in his palm, and not a second later, he and James look up at the sound of rustling sheets. 

Your face emerges from beneath the covers, and Sirius thinks amusedly that it’s almost like you’re peering out from the mouth of a very plush cave. “What’re you doing?” you ask, words slurred together with sleep. Less so when your eyes narrow on the rings in Sirius’ hand. “Those are mine.” 

Sirius can’t help it; he laughs, and you glare at him (you’re really not as intimidating as you’d like to think, even with the darkness that rings your eyes and makes you look like a cartoon villain). “Oh, are they?” he asks you. “I seem to recall purchasing them some time ago.” 

“Since when did you purchase them?” James asks, rising from his crouch to sit next to you on the bed. He pets your hair, and you relax as if you might go back to sleep, though you’re still tracking Sirius’ hand with watchful eyes. “You told me you stole them from your mum.” 

“Well,” Sirius huffs. “Finders keepers.” 

“Exactly,” you say grouchily. “So put them back.” 

“Sorry, Bandit.” Sirius drops a conciliatory kiss on your temple as he slides a few of the rings on and stows the others in his pocket. “I found ‘em this time. Anyway, at least when I steal things, I actually use them. Keeping them stashed under your bed is criminal.” 

You grumble, but you can’t rally much resentment with James’ fingernails scratching at your scalp so pleasantly. 

“I think they do it to feel close to us,” Remus muses, giving you an appraising look. You won’t meet his eyes. “I mean, they’ve got your rings under there, Pads, and one of Prongs’ old necklaces, and some of my sweaters.” James coos as you sink further back into your burrow, and Remus smiles. “Did I get that right, sweetheart?” 

Sirius knows that tone. Remus is laying it on thick and extra sweet, trying to get you to squirm. And it’s working; you won’t look up from where you’re toying with the hem of the sheets, but your face takes on a pinkish hue. You start tearing the edge of your sheet into little strips between your fingers. 

“Oi.” James takes your hand prisoner in his. “Don’t start on that, we’ve already had to replace all the curtains.” 

“Is that true, baby?” Sirius wheedles, giving you his most saccharine smile. “Do you take our things because you love us?” 

You huff, your embarrassment revealed by the way you begin playing with James’ fingers. “Obviously I love you. You know that already. And you have nice things, so think whatever you want.” 

Remus chuckles. “Alright, we will.” 

“I can’t believe it.” Sirius looks down at you, raising an eyebrow when you glare. “Our Bandit’s a thief with a heart of gold.”