hi im an author & screenwriter but fanfics are my happy place, 21, she/her 💛 Requests are open 💛 All are welcome here, if there are any fics you would like to request specific pronouns for, leave a comment! 💛
I will update frequently! Feel free to send in requests as you please! Guidelines for requests: here. List of fandoms can be found here.
Prompt list can be found here. Prompt list is definitely not necessary for a request! I just made it to encourage people to ask!
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Thunderbolts Fam x Reader:
Trying to be Sneaky | comfort, fem!chronically ill!reader
Peter Parker x Reader:
Ask Her With a Cat? | fluff, any Peter, fem!reader
I Made a Playlist | fluff, tasm!Peter
Post-Christmas Depression | comfort, any Peter, fem!reader
Sorry, Can't Sleep | comfort, any Peter
College | fluff, any Peter
Help | angst, hurt/comfort, any Peter
Yelena Belova x Reader:
Scary Movies | fluff
Snowed In | fluff, theater kid (doesn’t have to be) reader
Natasha Romanoff x Reader:
Late Night Braids | fluff, a lil comfort
Apologize | fluff
Hide and Seek | fluff, all Avengers too, slight fem!reader
Nightmare | hurt/comfort
I Didn't Mean It | enemies to lovers
Secrets lol | humor, drunk!Nat
Paranoia | comfort
Wandanat x Reader:
Intruder | hurt/comfort, angst
Thunderbolts x Reader:
Pain | platonic!Ava Starr x Chronically Ill!Reader, hurt/comfort
Kamala Khan x Reader:
Fairs & Fireworks | fluff
Halloween Movie Night | fluff
Vulnerable? No. | fluff
Michael Morbius x Reader:
Space Girl | fluff
I Could Never Be Afraid | angst
Kate Bishop x Reader:
Ice Cream | angst to fluff
America Chavez x Reader:
Signature Jacket | fluff
Laying in a Park | comfort
Marvel Edits:
Avengers Civil War but I Edited It
Series:
A Strange Situation Masterlist
Feysand x Reader:
Cosmic Love | fem!reader, angst, set in ACOMAF
🥀 PT 2
🥀 PT3
Nesta x Reader:
Sick | fem!reader, fluff
Azriel x Reader:
Something to Prove | fem!reader, angst, hurt/comfort
*Though I do write fanfics for this fandom, I in no way support the recent transphobic behaviors of its author. Everyone is welcome here and any of my fanfictions can and will be inclusive to everyone from the community. I completely understand wanting to separate yourself from this franchise and that is completely fine. However, I believe that it has moved on from just being J.K. Rowling’s story. I still associate with it only as a coping method for my mental illnesses and the fact that the members of the fandom are absolutely wonderful and very inclusive people as far as I have experienced.
You know what's wild? Being from Pittsburgh and seeing all of these Pitt fanfics on the blogs I follow romanticizing Pittsburgh. Babe I couldn't wait to get THE FUCK out of that place.
Also they only filmed like a day or two in PA. The rest was shot in CA, so they took away jobs from Pittsburgh filmmakers :/
Description: Born in the Spring Court, your magic was all too common. But you were needed in the Inner Circle, even if you feel you constantly have to prove that by taking on missions.
You sit in front of Rhysand, legs elegantly crossed in front of you, notebook open as Azriel paces the office, rambling details and updates his spies from Spring provided.
You used to think it would hurt to hear someone talk so negatively about where you grew up. You used to love everything about Spring, about your ability to heal and revive, you felt like you fit perfectly. You were shown quickly that wasn't the case, no use for your powers in a place where so many others had the same.
The Night Court provides you with purpose, even if 90% of your job is cataloguing information and acting more of an assistant than a true member of the Inner Circle. But you took the opportunity, especially as you didn't have any other options.
"We're talking about a potential biological weapon here, Rhys. With Tamlin out-of-action, rebels can operate unchecked." Azriel finally takes the seat next to you, leaning forward on his elbows across the desk.
"I'm well aware of what this means. It would be ideal if we could collect a sample." Rhys folds his hands over his mouth.
"I can't get a precise location, they're too deep in the woods. I'm not sending anyone out with such unfamiliar terrain."
You feel the thought bubble up in your chest before you brain catches up. "I could go."
"No," Azriel stares at you.
"Rhys, I grew up in those woods. I know exactly what species of plant you're after. I can find them if you give me the chance."
You've always been filled with a need to prove yourself. Everyone around you seems to be slightly smarter, slightly more talented, slightly stronger. You can never catch up. Whether you're proving your capability to your boss or yourself, you're never sure.
"Respectfully," Azriel speaks carefully. You hate when people start a sentence like that. It's belittling. "You haven't been there without the protection of an active High Lord. There are many species of faeries you never would have encountered while Tamlin patrolled his lands."
"Please, we studied all of this in school. I may not have physically encountered them but I sure as hell know how to handle them." You set your notebook down. "Rhys, I can do this. I can be in and out in less than a day, I'll keep myself out of trouble."
"Your knowledge is certainly valuable for this," Rhys drawls.
"You're not seriously considering this?" Azriel stands again. "She's not even been trained yet!"
"I fit right in with the locals, the rebels won't even be able to detect where my alliance lies." And it's true, Azriel knows it. You are a Spring-born faerie, much easier to blend in than a Shadowsinger with Illyrian wings clammoring about.
"She's our best option, Az. You'll winnow her to the border tomorrow morning and bring her back once the plant has been collected."
"I won't let you down." You hide your triumphant smile.
"Az isn't wrong either," Rhys gives you a pointed glare. "Keep to yourself, talk to no one unless you absolutely must. I'll keep my mind open for communication, first sign of trouble and you let me know."
"Absolutely," you nod.
Azriel says nothing as he storms out of the room. You collect your notepad and follow him out.
🦇🪻🦇
The next morning, Azriel is silent as you stand next to him on the balcony.
"Good morning," you greet cheerfully, not expecting him to respond.
He doesn't. He grabs your arm tightly and winnows.
Spring smells the same way you remember. It hasn't been very long since you left, but sometimes the scent will sneak into your more nostalgic dreams. You waste no time in crossing the border, leaving Azriel to brood by himself.
The woods shine charmingly around you, morning sunlight creeping through the leaves. Birds sing from the treetops, waking their furry friends on the forest floor.
You savor it for just a moment, closing your eyes. Suddenly, you're nine again, not a care in the world other than spending every single second soaking up the sun. Even in Velaris, spring is your favorite season.
After several hours of hiking alongside a glittering stream, you finally come upon a clearing. A field of beautiful purple flowers bloom. They look almost as if they're glowing and a strange haze settles around them.
You're in awe for a moment, seeing these rarities in person. They can be brewed into a tasteless, odorless, colorless tea and have varying effects on the consumer from hallucinations to death depending on the species and dosage.
There were stories you were told growing up of stupid teenagers hunting for these plants to achieve some kind of trip. Many were led to a quick death, others driven to insanity.
You pull a piece of fabric from your pocket and tie it securely over your nose and mouth. Even inhalation of the pollen can cause phantom sensations.
You carefully kneel on the edge of the clearing and begin to collect the plants, digging out the roots so they can be salvaged back in the Night Court.
With the flowers carefully tucked away, you make the journey back. You become somewhat aware of strange noises around you. Not completely out of the ordinary for the woods, certainly not this far out. The stream drowns out the soft footsteps following you.
Suddenly, you're pushed to the ground, a rock slicing into your cheek. You turn to see your attacker and find someone completely covered in random fabrics, only their eyes are visible.
You kick a leg up to throw them off balance, trying to stand, but they dodge and step on your other ankle. A sickening crack sounds through the air and your vision blurs.
The assailant reaches for your jacket, where the flowers are stowed, and you roll out of the way.
They pull out a knife and point it at your throat. "Sorry, can't let you take those."
"I'm just filling my stash at home," you lie easily. The pain from your ankle is starting to take up most of your headspace.
"I know you work for another court. I followed you this morning."
You mentally kick yourself for not noticing.
"Let's be realistic. You're clearly from the Spring Court, right?"
You nod.
"You must be lesser fae if you didn't hear me all day. What are they paying you to do their bidding?" The assailant pulls the fabric down from their mouth, breathing hard.
You take the opportunity to scramble out from under the knife, standing and taking a defensive stance. They can easily outrun you like this.
"Wouldn't you like to be able to live like high fae? Have the same positions they do instead of just carrying out their bidding?"
"I am treated as an equal. It's the Spring Court that's behind in that department." You try to buy yourself time as you slip your hand into the pocket with the flowers, grabbing one tight, crushing the petals in the process.
The assailant steps closer, knife at the ready. "We're not true equals anywhere."
You throw the crushed petals into the attacker's face. With their mask pulled down, they immediately breathe in the pollen.
They step back, stunned. They look around wildly, the effects of the flower already kicking in.
You try your best to hop-run further along the stream, keeping within the treeline. The sun is already beginning to set.
You pause, looking at the crushed remnants of the plant on your palm. You glance around to make sure the coast is actually clear before stepping out of the treeline and submerging your hand in the water.
You try to summon your magic, but whether from accidentally breathing in the petals when you threw them or tiredness, your magic refuses to listen.
Once your hand is clean, you continue on your back, the pain in your ankle growing with every passing in minute. But your best chance of getting help is reaching Azriel.
You figure you had to have been at least halfway back by the time you were attacked. You wouldn't make it back by dusk, but hopefully not too long after.
You slowly drag your hurt foot along, placing your weight on the other leg as much as you can. You keep telling yourself just a bit farther, just a few more steps as your vision begins to darken in the corners.
Finally, you can't carry on anymore, tears streaming down your face, stinging the cut you forgot about. Your ankle pulses as you fight off wave after wave of nausea.
You collapse against the base of a large tree. You know you're far too vulnerable sitting here like a waiting duck, but unless you plan to crawl in the dark, the tree at least offers some cover.
The sun fully settles into the horizon, leaving you in only the dim moonlight. Without the sun's warmth, your breath begins to frost in front of you as you shiver. The cold somewhat numbs the pain in your ankle though, for which you are grateful.
You fight to keep your eyes open. With the pain not as intense, exhaustion hits you like a brick. Coupled with your determination and adrenaline disappearing, sleep calls to you.
Something tickles along your arm. You jerk away, pulling yourself backward along the ground when you don't see anything. Awareness finally starts to kick back in and you hear heavy footsteps nearing you.
You try to pull yourself behind a bush, keeping your breathing as quiet as possible.
The footsteps grow louder and you peek through the leaves. You see the moonlit outline of Illyrian wings and almost cry with relief.
You brace yourself against a tree trunk as you pull yourself to stand. Azriel's shadows reach out to you, encircling your ankle immediately.
"Gods damnit, what happened?" Azriel rushes to support you as you stumble.
"Unexpected company." You give him a tight smile.
He says nothing as he slides his arm under your shoulders and winnows.
🦇🪻🦇
Rhys sits, looking rather disheveled, at his desk. Feyre walks around the room, trying to bounce Nyx to sleep.
"You were due back hours ago." Rhys sighs.
You push away from Azriel, careful to make it look like you're completely fine. You pull out the flowers and lay them on the table.
You choose to ignore Rhys's comment. "This should be enough to start a small crop, if you want."
"What happened to your face?"
"Tripped and fell." You focus on your balance and try to ignore the way your ankle screams.
"Azriel, what happened?"
Azriel, half hiding in his shadows, shrugs.
"I'm fine. I brought the samples. I just need to sleep it off," your voice starts to rise, startling Nyx. You clear your throat and take a breath. "I'm going to clean up."
You don't wait to be dismissed like you usually do. You turn on your good foot and walk normally, albeit agonizingly, out of the office.
Of course, Azriel follows you. You feel his presence.
"You need to see a healer," he mutters.
"I am a healer. I'm fine."
"Your ankle is broken."
"No shit. I can handle it." You use the wall as support as you try and distance yourself from him.
He doesn't leave you alone. "You used the flowers, didn't you."
Not a question. So you nod. "A rebel tried to interfere, I did what I had to do."
"You can't go to sleep with it like that. It'll heal wrong."
"I know that, Azriel. If you're going to insist on walking with me, then help me."
A guilty look crosses his face for a moment. You hold up an arm, expecting him to support you, when he picks you up instead.
"Azriel!"
"You told me to help. I'm helping."
You could slap him.
He takes a turn to the left. "Where are you taking me?"
He doesn't respond, doesn't say anything until he opens the door to his own room. He sets you down on his bed.
"Azriel, what are you doing? I'm covered in dirt, why-"
He cuts you off by kneeling in front of your ankle, now swollen and bruised.
You blink. "Hey-"
You scream as he suddenly reaches out and sets the bone without warning.
"Cauldron, Azriel, what the hell!"
"I'm helping."
"I only meant help me to my room!" You're sweating from the pain now. You hear the bath magically start running in the next room.
Without another word, Azriel picks you up and carries you to the bathroom.
"I can move on my own."
He begins removing the outer layer of your clothes, shutting you up. You don't kick back into action until your pants are on the floor and Azriel is carefully maneuvering them around to not touch your ankle.
"I got it." You lightly smack his hand away. He wants to play this game? You can play, too. You start unclipping your bra and Azriel hastily turns around.
You're not sure why you're so compliant with him. It's probably the flower. Probably.
You sink yourself into the tub, feeling the dirt and sweat begin to pleasantly melt away. When you stop moving, fully submerged, Azriel looks at you again.
His eyes are glued to the cut on your face. He grabs a washcloth and wets it, gently wiping away the dried blood. The closeness takes your breath away.
"it's okay not to do everything yourself, you know," he gently guides your head down to the water and begins washing it.
"what's that supposed to mean?" But all the fight from your tone is gone. "Why do you care what happens to me? You don't want me to be a part of this team, anyway."
"I don't want you to be a part of it because I don't want you to get hurt. Exactly like you did." He massages shampoo through your hair and you feel your body relaxing. "And for the record, I care a lot."
I'm beginning to see that. You don't say anything for a few moments, letting this new reality sink in.
"I guess I'm always trying to prove that I deserve to be here," you start softly. "I want to show people what I'm capable of."
"I know you're capable of doing whatever you want. Doesn't mean you need to go running into needless danger to prove it." He begins running the washcloth over your body, not lingering on any spot too long. Just focused on the task at hand.
"Thank you," you say, finally meeting his eyes. "For coming to get me and . . . everything."
"Of course, Angel." A small smile creeps across his face. Your heart does something funny at the word, but you're not ready to unpack that yet.
DESCRIPTION: Nesta forces you to rest and let her take care of you when you get sick.
WARNINGS: being sick 🙄, muscle aches
MASTERLIST
*not my gif*
You wake up and immediately wish you were still asleep. The universe has a funny way of treating you, considering that most fae will never be sick in their entire lives. Unfortunately for you, working with kids means you catch nearly every bought of sickness that walks through the door.
Your body begins to ache and shiver as you pull your blankets closer. You reach for the glass of water on your nightstand, painfully taking a few sips before giving up.
The moon is still high in the sky, casting a weird glow around your bedroom. You try to lay back down, tossing and turning to find a position that soothes the ache permeating your muscles.
After what feels like hours, you finally begin to drift off again.
Only to wake up to incessant pounding on your door.
You groan as you pull yourself from your bed, legs shaking and body screaming. Each step on the cold floor feels like agony against your skin.
The knocking continues.
"Give me a second!" Unfortunately, you seem to have lost most of your voice as well.
"Y/N?" Nesta's steady voice is muffled by the door. Your heart skips a beat at the sound, which causes you to stumble.
Finally, you get the door unlatched and see your best friend—and long-time crush—standing in the hall with her arms crossed.
"Nesta? What are you doing here?" You voices cracks.
"Cassian went to drop Nyx off at daycare, but you were nowhere to be found."
"Shit," you whisper to yourself, "must've slept longer than I thought."
"Indeed. It's nearly 10." Nesta studies you.
"Fuck, I should get ready before I get in more trouble than I'm already-"
"Y/N, enough. You look horrible," she glances at your trembling fingers.
"Thanks."
You move back into your apartment, leaving the door open for Nesta. You try to gather the pieces of your uniform from where you had carelessly thrown them last night when you began to feel overheated and clammy.
"Stop," Nesta grabs your arm.
"Nesta, I've already used up my sick days. I can't lose this job, it is quite literally the only option in Velaris for me-"
"Okay. One: you're not going to lose your job. You are truly sick, which should be concerning regardless of the fact that you seem to be sick all the time."
"It's nothing, comes with the job." You brush her hand off, immediately missing the warmth.
"None of the other teachers have ever been sick."
"What? Are you spying on my place of work?" You roll your eyes, regretting the action as a headache pulses through you.
"And what if I am?" She crosses her arms again. You just stand there, not sure how to respond. "I started asking everyone to take stock of who was in when they drop Nyx off."
"That is ridiculous-"
"I'm concerned about you. Before I was Made, I got sick all the time. So did everyone else, it was normal. But I've yet to meet any other fae who has ever been sick besides you."
"I just have a bad immune system, I'll be fine by tomorrow, I'm sure."
"I'm not taking that chance. Sit." Nesta points at the couch behind you and you know better than to argue when she has that determined look in her eye.
"Nesta, please, there's nothing that can be done-"
"I'm going to make you something to eat, something to soothe your throat, and you're going to eat and drink it."
"Nesta-" she cuts you off with a glare. You lean back against the couch cushions, once again noticing the horrible aching in your muscles and bones.
You hear Nesta rattling around in the kitchen, but you're too focused on the pain to watch. At some point, the noise stops and you turn your head only to find Nesta crouching in front of you, holding a damp towel.
She feels your forehead and cheeks with the back of her hand before laying the towel across your forehead and eyes, soothing the headache that had been slowly growing there.
"Nesta-" you meant it to be a protest, but it comes out as more of a whimper. She shushed you as she brushes the hair off your neck. "Please, you don't have to do this."
"Let me take care of you."
"Why?"
She takes a breath in the silence. "I care very deeply for you. It hurts my heart to know you aren't feeling well, so at least let me try."
You let her words sink in as she brings you a bowl of soup. You take a small bite, not realizing how hungry you had become.
"How about some tea?" Nesta moves back to the kitchen. "Where do you keep it?"
"I don't-" you cut yourself off, staring at the soup she just made for you.
"Hm?"
"I appreciate everything you've done for me. Seriously. I'll be okay now."
"No," she rummages through your cabinets and drawers. "Where is the tea, Y/N?"
"I don't like tea," you say quietly. She has already done so much, and to deny her again feels ungrateful.
To your shock, Nesta laughs. "Why didn't you just say so? Would you like-" more rummaging, "some hot chocolate instead?"
"Yes, please."
And before you know it, Nesta is setting a warm mug next to your empty bowl. You move to take the dish to the kitchen, but she stops you, taking the bowl from your hands. You sip the drink instead.
"Do you want to try and get some rest?" Nesta asks gently as she returns, once again brushing your hair back.
A heaviness has fallen over your eyes, so just nod and standing. Your legs are still wobbly, Nesta moving to support you.
"I'm sorry," you say quietly.
"What, love?"
Your heart flutters. "I'm so sorry you felt like you needed to take care of me. And that I'm sick to begin with-"
"Sh, none of that." She helps you lay in bed, another cool cloth being placed against your forehead and blankets wrapped tightly around you. "I came here, and stayed, because I want to take care of you. And it's not your fault for getting sick, that's absurd."
You try to mumble a response, but you finally feel relaxed enough that sleep is dragging you under.
"I'll be here when you wake up, love." She runs a hand through your hair and you fall asleep instantly.
You asked, I am delivering! Didn't realize a month has passed since the second part. I'm trying to make these longer for you all as well. I've gotten a request for Nesta x reader, but I've been reading lots of Azriel recently, let me know if we want either of those or Nesta x Cassian x Azriel!
Description: Your first time in Velaris.
Gender: fem!reader
WARNINGS: mentions of implied abuse, touch starved reader, mistrust of men, fainting and symptoms that accompany this
Listening to "back to friends" by sombr while I write this, so much fluff ahead!
Tags from last part: bookwormysblog, klouise12345, twilighttether
PT1 | PT2 | MASTERLIST
18+ minors DNI
*not my gif*
You revel in the feeling of the soft fabric against your skin. The sweater is unlike anything you've ever worn, comfortable, warm, flattering in all the right ways. So soft, it might be better suited as nightwear.
A soft knock at your door has you turning around. Feyre stands in the doorway. You feel all the air leave your lungs at the way her braided hair lands on her shoulder, shining in the sunlight. You often wondered what the High Lords and their Ladies in the other courts looked like. Feyre seemed perfect for nearly all of them, Day, Dawn, Spring, and Night.
"How are you feeling today?" She walks toward you, slowly reaching toward the tender spot on your neck.
"Better," you try not to lean into her touch. "You hair looks very pretty today."
She smiles so softly. "Thank you, little love."
"I never learned how to braid my hair," you twirl it through your fingers, turning to face the vanity again.
"Would you like me to show you?" Feyre collects your hair in her hands. Your eyes close, not entirely of your own volition.
"I wouldn't want to take up your time. You and Rhysand have already done so much for me-"
"Nonsense. I'm glad to see you more talkative this morning."
She pulls the chair back and you sit in it. Feyre begins combing your hair with her fingers, sending tingles down your neck. You are vaguely aware of her studying your face in the mirror.
She begins a simple braid, brushing your hands against your skin far more often than necessary, as if she could sense how much you needed the gentle contact.
"Any news about-" his name dies on your tongue.
Feyre gives you a sad smile. "No."
You twist the sleeves of your sweater tightly against your arms.
"Our spymaster is personally overseeing the operation at Rhys's request. Believe me, if that male makes one wrong move, he'll be dead in a heartbeat."
You only feel slightly more relaxed. Having been around the King for so much time, you know he has secrets and methods of fooling his enemies when he needs to. Things he keeps hidden until he needs to use them, so outsiders are none the wiser until it's too late.
"But," Feyre ties off the braid. "We're not thinking about that today. We're going to Velaris, and nothing outside of the Night Court is allowed in the city. For now, that includes in conversation."
You nod. Maybe it would help to keep your mind off of everything for a day. It will inevitably come back soon, but Feyre seems confident enough that you are safe for the time being.
⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆
You find yourself staying close to Feyre as the three of you walk along the cobblestone roads. You've never seen so many people in one place. You didn't know people actually enjoying being in public with each other, but many give friendly waves, some even sent your way.
"Are you hungry at all, darling?" Rhysand glances at you as you stay a healthy distance from him on Feyre's opposite side. "My favorite cafe is just ahead.
Feyre gives you an encouraging smile. You've still yet to eat anything since your arrival yesterday, your stomach too twisted into knots to even remember to eat.
Are you okay, little love? Feyre's sweet voice fills your head. Rhysand seems to not be a part of this conversation as he nods at passersby.
Yes. I'm not sure why I'm so anxious all the sudden. Except for the small thought creeping up. Your deeply ingrained distrust of men. Rhysand has been nothing but kind to you, but you can't know his intentions for certain. You find yourself wishing for a bit of their power, just to have the reassurance of absolute truth.
That's okay. We're taking things at your pace today. If things are moving too fast, and you want to go back home, that's completely fine.
Home. Such a simple word for her, you suppose. This open invitation you've seemingly been given might suddenly disappear if the King starts any trouble. There is no real reason for them to protect you, to use their forces against him for your sake. You're just some random girl, truly.
If Feyre is listening to your thoughts, she shows no indication. Her and Rhysand have fallen eerily quiet, possibly in their own private conversation.
As you reach the cafe, the mix of smells hit you, reminding you of your empty stomach. The display case is fully of decadent items you have no names for.
Do you know what you want? Feyre is so gentle, not pressuring you to have to decide.
You've only had chocolate a few times in your life, and it is probably your most favorite thing in the world. So, of course, a chocolate-filled pastry catches your attention. Feyre follows your gaze and smiles.
Those are Rhys's favorite. He's a fiend for chocolate, but don't tell him I said that.
You smile and your anxiety lessens slightly.
And the pastry is probably your new favorite thing in the world. It flakes away in your mouth and the chocolate is just melted enough to leave a little on the corners of your lips.
You're far too focused on your food to notice the way Rhysand smiles to himself as he watches you eat. Feyre rambles on about some of her favorite stores in the city.
The moment is almost too perfect. Your heart feels full and your body light. Feyre's voice wraps around your head like a gentle wind. Even Rhysand's presence doesn't make your heart race the way it did earlier.
"What were you like as a child?" Rhysand's voice suddenly snaps you from your trance.
"Hm?" You quickly swallow the last bite of your food.
"What sorts of things did you like?" His violet eyes twinkle with amusement.
"Well, I guess I mostly had these imaginary friends and I liked to pretend that we took trips to the courts." You smile to yourself at the memory. "I've never been out of Hybern until now, I had no idea what they looked like."
"What did you think the Night Court would be like?" Feyre leans onto her elbows on the table.
"Honestly, I thought everyone just lived on stars and flew around to visit each other."
Rhysand laughs, the sound further easing your tension. "That would certainly be interesting."
"I mean, you're not too far off the mark. Rhys is just flying around all the time." Feyre gives him a bemused smile. You watch as his eyes melt at the sight of her.
"You can fly?" You brush the crumbs off your fingers to avoid meeting either of their eyes. You're not entirely sure why you feel incredibly stupid for not knowing that.
"Don't get him started, he'll never shut up about how great it is to have wings." Feyre winks at him. Rhysand shoves her shoulder.
Suddenly, your heart skips a beat. You feel your face growing warm. You try to focus on what Rhysand is saying, but the words are muffled. Your vision begins to blur. You try your best to keep your focus on the male in front of you, but you can't tell exactly where he is.
Black spots begin to take over your vision.
"Y/N?" You faintly hear Feyre ask. You try to respond, but the darkness overtakes your senses.
Trying out a new transition banner. I had no idea I was using the dizzy emoji, although that's very on brand for me and my pots :p
Please let me know if you want me to make a permanent taglist for this series and if you would like to be added! I'm tagging people who commented on the previous part for now.
Thanks for all the love on the first part! I'm having so much fun writing fics again, this is truly my comfort place.
Tagged as requested: @bookwormysblog
2nd part as requested: @starstruckgiveryouth
Description: You wake up, forgetting where you are. Feyre and Rhysand help you calm down.
WARNINGS: anxiety, kind of panic attack?, mentions of implied abuse, touch starved reader, fear of the dark
PT1 | MASTERLIST
18+ minors DNI
*not my gif*
You don't know how long you slept, only that you woke up to darkness.
You begin to panic, sliding your hands along the floors and walls, desperately looking for any source of light, any sign of where you are.
Finally, your hands grab onto a pair of curtains. You tear them open, flooding the cavernous room in moonlight. You look around and catch your breath, remembering what happened before you fell asleep.
You turn back to the curtains, looking out the window in front of you. Beyond is a sea of twinkling lights and buildings, unlike anything you've ever seen.
You find the latch on the window, letting the magically warmed air flow onto you, cooling the sweat on your face. It smells like jasmine and other things you can't quite place, certainly not the bitter, rotting cold of where you came from.
A soft knock at the door. You pull the curtains tight again, hiding in the darkness.
You hold your breath as the doors open, making yourself as quiet and small as possible. A figure shifts into the room.
Suddenly, a small dot of light floats toward the ceiling. The figure comes into focus—two figures, you now realize. In front, Rhysand, and following closely behind, Feyre.
"Hey," Rhysand approaches slowly at your cowering figure. "We felt your panic."
You don't move to stand, but don't flinch away as the two come closer.
"What happened?" Feyre asks softly.
Rhysand kneels in front of you and holds out his hand to help you up. You hesitantly take it, rising onto shaking legs.
That same feeling of calm washes into your mind, stilling your knees and allowing you to breathe fully.
"I woke up and thought I was back-" your voice is barely a whisper, trailing off into silence.
"Sorry, little love, I shouldn't have closed the curtains." Feyre opens the curtains once more to find the open window. She leaves it be.
You sit on the edge of the, or your, you suppose, bed, taking deep, calming breaths.
"What is that place?" You ask, looking out the window again.
Rhysand smiles. "Velaris, City of Starlight."
"It's beautiful." You can see why it's called the city of starlight.
"I thought the same thing when I first came here, too." Feyre admires the city, taking a seat next to you.
"I've lived my whole life on that island. It was always cloudy and gray and cold." You sigh. "I've never seen anything like this."
"We can take you there tomorrow, if you'd like." Feyre smiles.
You look back to the city. The feeling, the view of freedom is so close.
"He's going to try and find me." You say, mostly to yourself.
"We're prepared for that. This place, and Velaris, are the safest in Prythian, I can assure you." Rhysand sits next to his mate, taking her hand in his. You feel a twinge of jealousy at the motion and quickly push it down.
But Rhysand smirks like he could sense it. And he probably can.
"We have strong wards in place. No one goes in or out without our say so." Feyre gently touches your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.
Your entire body tingles like lighting struck, even at the small touch, done in kindness and caring, not in lust or desire. You can't remember the last time you were able to enjoy any physical touch.
"You should try and rest more," Feyre stands from the bed, Rhysand following her. You immediately miss her warmth and closeness. The feeling of safety that seemed to wash over you.
"Thank you, again." You give them a smile.
Rhysand seems to light up, his violet eyes twinkling at your small bit of happiness.
"Let us know if you need anything else," he gestures to the paper and pen that have suddenly appeared on your nightstand.
"Thank you."
"Anything," Feyre repeats. "We're here for you."
You feel tears prick at your eyes. Feyre picks up on it immediately.
"Little love, what's wrong?" She sits back down.
"I've never been shown such kindness," you push your tears back, failing as one falls down your cheek.
Rhysand kneels in front of you and gently wipes away the tear. You feel sparks under his soft touch. "I know how it feels, a lot more than you realize. However long it takes for you to heal, to trust us, that's okay. We will be here."
You nod, not sure that words could express your gratitude. But with them, you don't need words. Not when they can apparently feel every emotion you have.
"We can, but we can stay out of your mind if you want," Feyre offers.
"No," you say a little too quickly. "I just mean, sometimes that's easier than, I don't know, saying things out loud."
Rhysand nods in understanding before rising again. "Have a goodnight, darling."
Feyre gives you one last warm-as-sunlight smile before they both leave.
You settle back in bed, feeling much more relaxed with the curtains and window open, allowing you to see the room in full.
It doesn't take long for you to fall back asleep, feeling safer than you have your entire life.
Woah, she's back and she's in a new fandom. Watch out! Requests are welcome, I haven't finished ACOSF yet so please no requests with spoilers!
For @springfaaerie
Description: Sold off to be the King of Hybern's mistress, you can't help but long for the type of love Feyre and Rhysand have.
WARNINGS: Implied SA, abuse, biting, ACOMAF Hybern scene so everything that goes with that, lost voice, blood
MASTERLIST
18+ minors DNI
*not my gif*
You stand like a shadow next to the King's throne, one hand on the armrest just like you were told. You don't want to think about what he or his guards would do to you if you disobeyed again.
You try to stop your knees from trembling as the King reaches out his hand, making the poison in the Illyrian's blood spread quicker.
To your slight relief, he is already unconscious on the floor. The other Illyrian isn't facing such luck, crawling toward the Cauldron, his ripped wings dragging on the ground.
The King laughs and pulls you onto his lap, your veins turning to ice. The thin black gown does little to protect your skin from his touch. He bites down on your neck, probably hard enough to draw blood, but its not close to the worst he could be doing.
You keep your attention focused on the people in front of you. Their suffering much greater than yours.
The High Lord of the Night Court has gone pale, watching the King. Feyre, you had heard stories about, keeps her eyes trained on her mate.
For a split second, your heart yearned for a love like theirs. A love you would never get to experience now.
You don't hear the words that are spoken, but you watch as the High Lord and Feyre collapse on the ground, both screaming in agony. The King revels in their pain, almost as if it is driving his pleasure as he places a hand on your breast, not caring about the audience.
But everyone in the room ignores you anyway. Before long, they begin winnowing away. Tamlin and Lucien taking Feyre, the Night Court leaving with the two Made girls, leaving only the High Lord himself left in the throne room.
"I see you found yourself a pet." The High Lord boldly says.
The King leers. "Isn't she a gem?"
Your family sold you off to be the King's mistress, desperate to relieve themselves from poverty and put themselves in Hybern's good graces as your bloodline had been during the War.
Not that it mattered. Your life was over before it started.
"Yes, yes. What's your name?" He asks, meeting your eyes.
"Do not speak to her." The King shoves you off him as he stands. "She speaks to no one but me."
The High Lord glances to you. You nod in confirmation before the King can see.
Suddenly, you feel a strange tingle in your mind.
Did you chose this?
No, you try to say back, not sure if he can hear.
I will be back for you.
And in an instant, he is gone, leaving you reeling.
The King waves his hand to dismiss you. You quickly hurry to your private room in the servant quarters.
💫
A month later, you still repeat the High Lord's words every time you find yourself in the King's bed.
Rhysand, you had eventually learned his name.
You stand at the small sink in your room, tending to yet another wound from the King biting you on your neck, his favorite display of ownership when he needs to make a show of it.
He must have hit a vein, the way the blood continues to drip into the sink despite your attempts to hold it shut.
A hand covers your mouth.
You nearly scream, but at this point, know better. If one of the guards wanted to play with you, it was best just to go along.
But the hand falls away. You turn to face the intruder to find the same violet eyes that haunt your every waking thought.
I'm here to take you away. We only have a few seconds, but I won't do it unless you want me to.
Yes, please. You beg him with your eyes.
He grabs your hand and you feel cold surround you as the world disappears-
💫
And reappears. The first thing that strikes you in the lack of walls. Or windows. A warm breeze shifts through the space despite the snow that trails in with it.
Sitting at the table in front of you is Feyre. Rhysand releases your hand and moves to step next to his mate.
"Hello, again. Now that we can speak freely, I'm Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court."
You want to speak but so much time without use leaves your voice rough.
That's okay. We can hear you in here. A soft, warm, sweet voice. Feyre.
My name is Y/N. That's all you can think to say. Thank you.
"Here, let me help you with your neck." Feyre gently approaches you with a very white towel.
I don't want to stain that, it'll stop soon.
"Nonsense. We have a thousand of these." She presses the towel to your skin and you can feel the blood begin to soak it immediately.
"Would you like something to eat, Y/N?" Rhysand waves his hand and a spread of food appears on the table.
I-
Panic begins to fill your chest. He'll have figured out you're gone by now. Though you're not entirely sure he'd care enough to hunt you down, it's a possibility.
A soothing sensation fills your mind and quiets the thoughts.
"We have eyes on him, we'll know if he even leaves his kingdom. We will protect you here," Rhysand assures you.
Feyre pulls the towel away, the wound finally beginning to clot.
"Th-" you try to clear your throat. "Thank you."
It's weak and quiet but at least you got it out.
"You look tired, little love." Feyre studies your face. "Why don't I show you to your room so you can get some rest?"
Thunderbolts Fam x fem!Reader: Trying to be Sneaky
Description: Despite your best attempts to hide your chronic GI issues, Yelena and Bucky find you sneaking your medication.
Pronouns: she/her
WARNINGS: this is about gasteoparesis. Swearing. Mentions of symptoms related to that, medication (laxative). Medical gaslighting that everyone goes through when they tell you "just take miralax twice a day 😁"
Note: because I'm learning that hot girls have GI issues and it actually shouldn't be embarrassing.
*not my gif*
You gently close your laptop as your stomach begins to twist uncomfortably.
Fuck.
You were so absorbed in your work that you forgot to take your second dose of miralax. Usually you slip it into your drink at dinner so no one will notice.
You sigh, heading to the kitchen.
Surveying the drink options, you decide hot chocolate would at least be somewhat rewarding despite your stomach actively trying to strangle itself alive.
But, you're all out of packets. Only K-Cups left and the Keurig is on its last leg.
You load the pod in and press start, cringing as the machine groans to life. You glace around to make sure no one else is awake.
Finally, it starts pouring your drink and quiets down. You breathe a sigh of relief.
You shuffle back to your room and grab the miralax bottle carefully hidden in your T-shirt drawer. It feels light, you'll need to pick up some more tomorrow.
You hurry back to the kitchen before your drink can get cold. You open the bottle and begin to pour out the familiar white grains into the cap, until the flow stops halfway.
Shit.
Well, more like no shit. You peer in to check for anything that might be blocking it, but the empty bottle stares back up at you.
Suddenly, the bottle is ripped from your hand.
"Laxatives?" Yelena's familiar laughter rings from behind you. You feel your heart rate pick up, not wanting to face her while she's still holding what society might consider the most embarrassing medication to take.
"And-" Bucky slides into your view, grabbing your mug. "A cup of hot chocolate."
This could not get any worse.
You stand physically frozen. How are you supposed to respond in a situation like this? Two of the strongest assassins on Earth catching their assistant with miralax?
Yelena's laughter dies down the longer you stand there.
"Are you okay?" She places a hand on your shoulder, setting the bottle back down on the counter.
"Yep," you respond meekly.
"You woke up the whole damn tower brewing your drink." Bucky says as he fills a glass with water.
"I'm sorry," you clear your throat to get the words out.
"Um, I think-" now Bob is here, wonderful. "Maybe, we should-"
He points sheepishly to the hall. A look of understanding washes over Yelena's face.
"Oh, did I embarrass you?"
"N-" your voice catches again, "no."
"I am so sorry!" She wraps you in a rough hug from behind. "Go, take your medication."
"Okay, great-" you die slowly as you pour the half-filled dose into the cup.
Then, you realize you never grabbed a spoon. Bucky is leaning against the silverware drawer.
You take a breath of courage and awkwardly reach for the handle. "Sorry, I'm just gonna get in here-"
"Yeah, sure," he jumps away and you quickly grab the first spoon you see.
You reach for your cup, hardly paying attention. It slips from your hand and shatters onto the ground.
You stand there, spoon in hand, just staring at it.
Bob moves to start cleaning it, which snaps you back.
"No, I got it, I got it." Just as you were starting to get comfortable living with these people, something like this has to happen and ruin everything.
"Okay," Yelena bends down and begins picking up pieces of shattered ceramic. "Now I am actually sorry."
"Do you have another one?"
You jump as Ava materializes next to you, holding the empty bottle.
"No, it's fine." You focus intently on wiping up the liquid and whisper to yourself, "oh my God, this cannot be happening."
"I can go, buy you another one-" Bob steps forward, but pauses at the tears starting to roll down your cheeks.
"Hey," Ava leans down next to you. "What's going on?"
"I'm so sorry, I woke all of you up, I was already running out, now I have none, not that it helps anyway, and now you're all here trying to help me-"
"Nope, come on." Yelena wacks your arm. "No more tears. We are all friends and we all help each other."
You take a deep breath. "Thank you."
"Who made this big mess?" Alexei is suddenly towering over you wearing the largest robe you've ever seen with a giant Avengers logo on the front.
Yelena groans, "not now, Dad, go back to sleep."
"No, who smashed the mug? Was it you, 'Lena? You waking me up-"
"No, no, sorry, it was me," you carry a clump of paper towels to the trash can. "Butterfingers, anyway, I'm just going to go back to bed. Sorry to wake everyone, thanks for helping me clean, see you tomorrow."
"Bob, what happened?" Alexei turns to Bob as he awkwardly laughs. "I know you cannot lie, tell me now. That was my favorite mug."
"I have literally never seen you touch that mug." Bucky comments.
"Nonsense, I use that mug everyday."
"She, uh, we, kinda, saw her trying to sneak miralax into her drink but then she got nervous and," you give Bob a death stare. "Dropped it."
"Bob!" You snap.
"S-sorry." He takes a few steps back toward the nearest wall.
You sigh, "no, I'm sorry. I'm just . . . feeling a lot of emotion right now."
Alexei shakes his head disapprovingly. You dread what he is about to say next, expecting the worst. "What is this? You are too young to have problem. Now, I- I have problem all the time-"
"Dad! No one wants to hear that!" Yelena whines.
That just makes you feel so great about yourself.
"Why, why are you taking this bullshit?" He abruptly knocks the bottle off the table.
You are slightly stunned from the sudden violence. "My, uh, doctor told me to? I tried to tell her it wasn't working but she just, um, told me to keep at it. Forever, I guess."
"Bah!" He suddenly yells. "I go pay doctor a visit in the morning and I wear Red Guardian suit. I threaten her and if she tells you that again, I strangle her-"
"Okay, that is very much not necessary, but thanks. I'm actually good to just keep trying."
"You shouldn't have to settle." Ava says softly. "You deserve to find something that works."
"Yeah, well, at this rate, I won't. I appreciate the thought, but it's pointless." You shake your head, putting the spoon back in the drawer.
"Not that I like to agree with him," Yelena gives her father a pointed look. "But I think we should go have a little talk, see what her professional opinion is then."
"Either way," Bucky steps in before Alexei can get too excited. "We're here to help you."
"Yeah, you don't have to hide this from us." Bob says.
You smiles softly. "Thanks, guys."
"Okay, I'm exhausted. Don't wake me up in the morning or I'll tie you to the helipad for an hour." Yelena heads down the hallway.
"Same," Bucky follows her.
"Okay, kids, goodnight. I will see you in the morning for possible mission," Alexei wraps you in a bone-crushing hug.
"Yeah, possibly," you squeeze out. He finally releases you and you take a huge breath.
"If you need anything, I'm right down the hall." Ava gives you a smile and exits.
"I was serious. I can go buy you more if you need." Bob slowly creeps up to you.
"No, I'll be okay. Thank you, though. I appreciate it, Bob." You offer him a sincere smile.
"Yeah, of course."
You awkwardly wait for him to say something else. "Well, goodnight, then."
"Yeah, yeah, goodnight. Don't let the bed bugs bite."
You laugh. "You, too."
Sorry, I hate John. Actually have no idea how I would write him into this. Though I do low-key ship him and Ava so I'd prob write that.
Description: You can't fall asleep and find Ava in the same situation.
Gender: neutral! No pronouns used!
WARNINGS: This is about CHRONIC ILLNESS, mentions of chronic pain and symptoms specifically related to Raynaud's syndrome and POTS.
*not my gif*
It's the middle of the night and, yet again, you can't seem to fall asleep. You sit up slowly, the world swirling around you as you wait for your symptoms to calm down.
After a few deep breaths, you stand up and wait for the second wave, taking a few steps, trying to find your slippers as the cold concrete floors feel like burning ice on your feet.
You find the slippers and slide them on, waiting for the pain to subside. The clock reads 2:03AM.
Damn.
You slowly creep toward the door, cracking it slightly. The hallway is dead, lights off. Through the window, the skyline of New York expands to the horizon. Despite the hour, the buildings are each lit up in some way. You wonder why some windows have lights in them, if someone else is stuck just like you.
Faintly, you hear the sounds of the TV from the living room. You debate for a moment. Is this really the time to bother someone?
Either way, you're not sleeping anytime soon.
You slowly walk down the hall, careful not to let your slippers slap too loudly as you pass each Thunderbolt's door.
The TV is displaying some trashy reality show. Just your type of 2AM content. Ava's head peeks up from the couch cushions.
As to not startle her, you knock on the wall. Regardless, she jumps and slightly phases.
"Sorry!" You say softly.
Ava smiles at you. "You're fine. Why are you up so late?"
She gestures to the open spot next to her and you shuffle forward, collapsing and immediately wrapping yourself in a blanket.
You take a breath for a moment, feeling your heart rate finally start to settle.
"Are you alright?" Ava asks.
"I could ask you the same question.*
A moment of silence passes.
"I hate this suit. But I hate being stuck in a tiny little pod more."
You look over at her. She fidgets with the collar of her suit, the leather squeaking.
"Yeah." You look forward, trying to focus on the show. "What is this?"
Ava laughs. "I don't even know. Something about dating."
"Right, right. Looks great."
"I've watched it every night this week. I'm thinking Darlene is going to drop Christopher the moment Darrel asks her out."
You smile. "Oh, for sure. I can see it in her eyes." You focus on a random woman on the screen.
"That's Cheryl."
"Well, maybe she wants Darrel, too."
Ava looks over at you. "Seriously. Why are you up?"
You shrug. "Can't sleep."
"Any particular reason?"
You shift around. "My bones feel too stiff, my head hurts."
"Yeah, get that," Ava sighs. "You know, I thought the pain would all just go away with the suit, but it's still there."
You nod. "There's just no magic solution to anything, huh?"
"Nope," she pops her lips. "Oh, there's Darlene!"
You click your tongue. "Ah, she's too good for Christopher anyway."
Ava lets out a loud laugh. You both immediately look around to make sure no one has stirred. Then, you break into a fit of quiet giggles.
Then, without warning, you feel tears stinging your eyes. "I'm exhausted. But I'm not tired."
"Like your body could shut down any minute, but the moment you close your eyes, it's like you drank a shot of espresso."
"Yeah," you whisper, frantically wiping away the tears before Ava can see.
She shifts closer to you and rests her head on your shoulder.
There's a level of silent understanding between you. Even the slight contact helps to soothe your restlessness. You gently lay your head on top of hers.
And you both sit like that for a while. The show carries on, Darlene asks Darrel out, Christopher is eliminated.
"You called it!" You whisper.
Ava gives no response. You notice the steady flow of her breathing and realize she's fallen asleep.
You smile to yourself and relax. Before you know it, your eyes begin to feel heavy as you finally start to drift off.
Thanks for reading! I'm slowly getting back into writing fics but they will only be platonic x reader or ships. Send in your requests!
Description: The young avengers are living in an apartment together. However, they have no idea that each other are superheroes. They begin making ridiculous excuses for their injuries and being out late.
America's POV
I wake up to the sun shining through the blinds on my new window. My heart feels very accomplished this morning. I got to wake up in my bed in my apartment. I finally have a home.
Running through the metaverse is great, but I'm tried of trying to find the ones with free hotels every night.
Suddenly, something in the sunlight catches my attention. It almost blends right into the brightness, but there is a different way it shimmers.
It is long and a silvery-white see-through wisp of . . . air?
For a moment, I can't look away. My eyes are glued to its strange shine. My whole body feels warm and relaxed.
It starts drifting toward me-
BANG!
"Ow, shit!" Kate yells from somewhere. My eyes dart to the door, then back to where the wisp was a second ago, but it is gone.
I take a breath and shake my head. I must be imagining things.
Kamala's POV
I am awoken by a loud bang from outside my room. I groan and roll over to my side, but a slit of sun smacks me right in the eyes.
"Ugghh," I turn to the other side, no longer feeling tired.
Cassie's POV
I was in the middle of stashing my Stature suit under a pile of clothes in the closet when I hear a loud bang, causing me to jump backward and slam my head against the closet door.
I blink away the couple of tears that came to my eyes and walk to the kitchen.
"You good?" I ask, seeing Kate with a scattering of trays around her feet.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." She angrily kicks a tray. "I was trying to make breakfast for everyone and instead I woke them all up."
"Nah, I was already awake." I give her a comforting smile. She shares one back.
"So . . ." Kate purses her lips and clicks her tongue. "How'd you sleep last night?"
Oh, you know, just vivid dreams of the Quantum Realm, nothing too spectacular. "Pretty alright, you?"
"Yeah, these mattresses are comfy, right?"
"For sure, comfier than the one I had at home actually." I brought my own mattress and traded out the one that came in with the apartment, but she is clearly struggling to find a topic.
"Yeah, it was crazy. Haven't been that comfy since the mattresses as my fifth grade getaway camp." She laughs and almost drops the pan she's trying to fit in a cabinet.
"Yep, great mattresses." Oooookay, this is going well. I don't think I've ever talked about mattresses more in my life. "Sooo, what do you do for a living?"
"What?" She turns around, very alarmed.
"Sorry, if that's . . . not okay to ask."
"Oh, no. No, sorry, just caught me off guard. I, um, just got expelled from college so . . . undecided." Kate awkwardly shuts the cabinet and turns to face me. "You?"
"I work at a little coffee shop a bus ride away." I give her a smile, trying to help her feel more comfortable.
I hear footsteps from behind me and turn to see . . . America, I think, entering the room. She looks lost in thought.
"Good morning!" Kate says brightly.
"Huh?" America snaps back. "Oh, morning."
Great first morning.
Kamala's POV
As I'm struggling to find a matching outfit within the what seems like hundreds of moving bags to go through, I realize I forgot to put my bangle on.
I hop back up on my bed and reach under my second pillow to grab—my bangle? Where is it?
Shit.
First day and I already lost the one most important thing I needed not to lose. I frantically look through bags until I find it hidden under a box of poptarts in one of my food bags, right where I put it. And then promptly forgot.
I step out of my room with my toothbrush, headed for the bathroom when I hear the front door unlocked. I'm nothing if not nosey so I have to go see who is leaving already.
To my surprise, a confused looking boy is standing in the doorway, holding a backpack.
"Um, maybe I got the wrong apartment?" He mumbles to the four pairs of women's eyes staring him down.
"Yeah, uh, our other roommate is supposed to be a . . . Petra I think." Kate looks around for confirmation.
"Oh, um, okay. Bye." He shuts the door.
We look at each other for a moment.
The door reopens.
"Okay the landlord gave me a key that works on this door. Maybe it was a typo? I'm Peter." He fiddles with the key.
"Oh, okay." Cassie says warmly. "You can come in."
"Well," he freezes, "if you're not comfortable living with a guy . . . I didn't know who I'd be living with . . . it was last minute and—"
"Hey," Cassie smiles. "It's all good. We don't bite."
"Yet." America says from a dark corner of the room.
We look at her.
"Sorry, bad joke." She smiles sheepishly.
". . . Okay then. Um, sorry." Peter walks in. "I'm Peter."
"Hi Peter, I'm Cassie." Cassie is already such the mom of the apartment.
"I'm Kamala." I smile.
"Kate." She awkwardly waves.
"I'm America." She emerges from the shadows and shakes his hand.
"Well." Cassie claps her hands together to get our attention. "Now that we're all here, I propose we go to dinner tonight to get to know each other."
There are a few vague head nods, so I say "yeah, that sounds okay."
"Great!" She smiles. "We'll go a five then."
This is going to be a long lease.
Buy me a coffee?
I need ideas lovely readers. I would love comments on some events you would like to see happen in future episodes!
Description: The young avengers are living in an apartment together. However, they have no idea that each other are superheroes. They begin making ridiculous excuses for their injuries and being out late.
*not my gif*
America's POV
I enter the rather large apartment space. Even though I expected it to be big with five roommates, this far exceeds my expectations.
I make a mental note to thank Strange for the recommendation later.
I'm so glad I decided to move in first. I don't have much (anything, really, if we're being honest) but I get first dibs on room choice.
I walk through each room and make an evaluation. Finally, the last one on the corner catches my eye. It has a giant window looking out into the New York City skyline, giving it plenty of sunlight.
I set my one bag down on the bed and take a moment to breathe everything in. I finally have a home, a place to go to. And I finally have my powers under control. I can actually stay in this universe and have a place to call my own.
Minus, like, everything else I need to survive. Strange gave me some cash (actually, a lot of cash by this universe's standards) to go shopping. I really should pay him back at some point.
He's become like a father figure to me. Even though, since last week, I haven't heard from him. I'm not too concerned—he's got all that world-saving to do—but it would be nice if he'd given me a little warning.
I hear the front doorknob turn.
Kamala's POV
"Kamala, walk. Go." My mom pushes the bag she is holding against me. I walk through my new front door.
"Good sized kitchen. Nice view." My dad surveys the place. "Living space, very nice."
"Dad!" I whine. "Can you help me with this box and stop admiring everything?"
"Kamala, don't talk to your father that way." My mom gives me a pointed look. "I will leave you here to do everything yourself."
"Okay," I mutter, rolling my eyes and shoving my light frustration down.
A girl's head peeks around the wall. I smile awkwardly and she returns it.
"Hi," I start to wave but hide it with a hair flip. "I'm Kamala."
"America." She smiles more comfortably.
"Does it matter which room I pick?" I ask. America shakes her head with a shrug. "Okay, cool."
"Kamala, where's your bedroom?" My mom shouts much louder than she needs to, considering I'm standing right behind her.
I walk straight forward into the closest room possible, dropping the heavy items I've been struggling with on the ground.
Cassie's POV
We just walked into the building when the security guard came up to my dad.
"Ay Scott, I haven't seen you in years!"
My dad turns around and smiles. "Hey, how are you man?"
I turn to physical mush inside. Imagine one of my new roommates sees me waiting around for my dad like a kid.
"Dad." I whisper harshly.
"Alright. I'm moving my daughter in right now actually. I'm sure I'll see you again." He shakes his friend's hand.
"Ah, good choice. It's a beautiful building." The man winks and me.
Ew.
I walk quickly to the elevator.
💫
I hear something slam on the floor from inside the apartment. My dad and I share a worried look and try the door. It has been left unlocked.
We walk in and hear a lot of commotion from the left, then a girl comes bursting out of one of the rooms, groaning. She stops when she sees me and smiles.
"Hi! I'm Kamala!" She says sweetly.
I smile back. "Cassie."
Another girl walks up beside Kamala. "I'm America."
I smile. "I like that name, it's cool."
"Thanks," she smiles widely.
"Cass, let's get your stuff in and then you can talk, okay?" My dad says, awkwardly just standing behind me the whole time.
I nod. The doorknob clicks and we all look at it.
Kate's POV
I walk through the front door and am greeted with four pairs of eyes staring me down.
"Hi," I give an awkward little wave. I quickly pull my hand down and curse at myself.
"Hello." One of the three girls says. "What's your name?"
"Oh, I'm Kate." I smile (more like grimace, I've been in here for two seconds and I've already done something embarrassing).
"I'm Cassie," the girl smiles.
"Kamala!" A completely new voice yells from somewhere out of sight. "Come help your father!"
The girl on the left gives and awkward little wave and scurries away.
"I'm America." The last girl smiles. "Nice to meet you."
"Is this everyone?" I ask.
"No, I think there's one more person, but they're not coming till tomorrow." America shrugs.
I nod. "Lot of people for one apartment."
America laughs. "It'll be okay."
"Has everyone taken their bedrooms already?" I suddenly change the conversation.
"Yeah, I think the one next to me is open though." She beckons me to follow her.
Okay when I say I've been writing this for months, I mean I've been writing this for months smh. Finally college has settled down and I'm just posting this first thing to get something out even tho its not very long. It will be longer in the future I promise! Let me know of suggests in the comments!
