#Also this was my first attempt at dramatic lighting

[greeneyeofenvy]

old art again

idk for any od their names

[doubleedgemode]

The Dandy with his Hand on his chest

I wanted to do a big piece before the month ended and I had been thinking on drawing a study of "The Nobleman with his Hand on his Chest" by El Greco with Slayer for a good while, because I adore that painting and believe it fits him, since it has a mysterious yet noble aura to me. Very dandy!

I love Slayer's Rev2 Color 4, so I got really happy when it returned as Color 10 in Strive, now with a very stylish nail polish, too.

[just-aake]

Detecting Love Part 2

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel to Detecting Love. Can a spy who's been trained to lie her entire life show the person with the power to detect lies the truth what it means to be loved?

Warnings: fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 5171

Natasha Romanoff lies.

Now, that’s to be expected, considering she is one of the greatest spies in the world. Ever since she was a child, she has been trained to be able to deceive everyone she meets.

Lying comes as easily to her as breathing, and deception is woven into every fiber of her being.

A charming smile here. A flirty wink there. 

Sweet words flow from her lips like honey.

Making everyone fall in love with all of the different false personas that she created for herself.

With a life and a past as shadowed as hers, it makes sense why she never even dared to imagine finding a person who can tolerate, let alone embrace, someone like her.

Then, she met you.

With your unique power to literally see through lies, you can detect the truth from her even when she’s at her most convincing. And despite learning about who she was and how she is, you accepted her unconditionally, not just as a friend, but as a partner.

For Natasha, being with someone who can truly see her is scary, and yet, that feeling is also better than breathing itself.

The two of you have been dating for several months now, and Natasha has never been happier.

Even if she sometimes occasionally struggles to express her affection openly in public.

As the two of you stroll through the compound, her eyes drift down once again in contemplation to your hand swinging casually at your side.

As if sensing her silent deliberation, you suddenly ask her curiously.

“Do you want to hold my hand?”

Natasha straightens at your question and faces forward, responding promptly in an even tone, “No.” 

Now that is sure to sound honest to anyone else who heard it, but you’re different.

Natasha makes sure to trail back slightly behind your line of sight in an attempt to hide the glow she knows you’d probably see around her.

You don’t comment on her evading action, but a faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you maintain your pace toward the Avenger’s personal elevator.

The two of you stand side by side, waiting for the elevator to arrive when Natasha suddenly feels the back of your hand lightly graze her fingers before quickly pulling away.

She narrows her eyes in suspicion at you, but you maintain an innocent expression, your gaze fixed on the decreasing numbers above the elevator doors.

Facing forward once more, Natasha is about to dismiss the action as an accidental touch when she feels it again – the fleeting brush of your hand against hers. 

This time, she doesn't hesitate to shoot you an accusing stare. Yet, you continue to feign ignorance, your expression a perfect mask of innocence. 

A couple of seconds pass before your hand makes contact with hers for the third time. 

Before you can retract your hand, Natasha swiftly catches it and intertwines your fingers with hers before letting out a defeated huff.

You don’t utter a word about her actions, but a subtle smile curves your lips, exposing your amusement at her reaction. 

With a soft squeeze of her hand, you pull her into the elevator, the door closing shut behind the two of you.

It's moments like these that remind Natasha why she fell for you — your ability to see past her lies, even the most trivial ones.

Once the elevator door slides open to the private floor, the two of you are met with sounds of a heated argument between the Asgardian Avenger and his visiting brother.

“I know you did it, Loki! This is not the first time you’ve taken and hidden a treasure of mine!”

“Oh, would you stop being so dramatic? We're talking about a mug, not some enchanted artifact.”

You raise a questioning brow at her, silently asking her whether you two should come back at another time, but Natasha shakes her head resolutely in response, not willing to let anything prevent her from missing her morning coffee.

As the two of you walk past the brothers, Thor finally notices the new presence in the room.

“Y/n!” he calls excitedly. 

His hand lands on your shoulder, catching you in place between the two of them which in turn pulls your hand from her grasp.

Thor’s other hand points accusingly at his brother.

“Is Loki lying about taking my mug?”

Realizing that you’re being dragged into the middle of the argument, your eyes dart to Natasha for help, only for her to give you a thumbs up in encouragement as she takes a sip of the coffee that she just poured from the freshly made pot.

The other Asgardian crosses his arms and snickers derisively at his brother.

“Do you really think that this simple mortal can expose the literal god of mischief? I didn’t take your stupid mug, and she can’t prove any—”

“He’s lying,” you answer plainly, seeing the red aura surrounding the Asgardian.

Loki shuts his mouth in surprise, blinking at you for a moment in disbelief, before pointing at you with a disdainful look.

“I don’t like her,” he states bluntly.

“Ah ha!” Thor exclaims victoriously. “You did take it!”

The two continue with their arguing as you discreetly sneak away to Natasha’s side.

She hands you a cup of coffee which you accept with a soft thanks before an alarm on your phone rings, showing your reminder for the day. 

You groan lightly in disappointment, causing Natasha to raise a questioning brow at you as she raises her cup for another sip.

“I have some interviews to get to this morning, so I’ll have to see you later,” you tell her before pressing a quick kiss goodbye to her cheek.

“I love you,” you whisper against her skin.

Swallowing her sip quickly, Natasha turns her head towards your direction, the reciprocating words also on her tongue.

“I—”

But you’ve already rushed away around the corner, disappearing from view. 

“…love you too,” Natasha finishes in a soft disappointed tone, her lips twisting at your action. 

Public displays of affection aside, Natasha has no problem wanting to tell you how much you mean to her.

But for some reason, you always seem to conveniently find ways to escape whenever she’s about to say those words to you.

“Now I’m no expert on relationships, but that right there was some cunning evasion tactic,” Loki comments, smirking at Natasha. “It appears that she’s not really interested in receiving such words from you.”

A slap on Loki's shoulder propels him forward a couple of steps as Thor reprimands, “Stop trying to cause problems for them, Loki.” 

He then turns to Natasha with a firm nod. 

“Don’t listen to him, Nat. Y/n loves you.”

Of course, she knows that. 

You whisper those words against her skin every morning when you think she’s still asleep and then again against her lips when you wake her up. 

The problem is that it seems that she never gets the chance to return the gesture before you find some way to rush away from the room or keep her mouth otherwise occupied and distracted.

A thud on the counter pulls her from her thoughts as Loki leans against the table with a mischievous grin.

“That girl can detect lies, right? Then why don’t you just tell her that you don’t love her, and then she’ll see the truth. That should be easy enough for you. After all, lying is your specialty,” Loki remarks before a smug expression forms on his face. 

“Unless that is, the truth is that you don’t actually love her,” he taunts.

Natasha glares at him silently, refusing to fall for his baiting provocation. Not wanting to give the trickster god any more amusement, she quickly downs the rest of her coffee and leaves for the meeting room, deciding to try again with you later.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

With the briefing finishing early, Natasha decides to visit your office during this break in between her meetings. Conversations flow around her as she walks past the front desk toward the administrative part of the building.

“I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t let you enter without an appointment.”

“Well, is there any way you can just send a message to Y/n to let her know I’m here?”

Natasha’s head snaps up from her tablet at the sound of your name and curiously turns to the person who said it, only for her eyes to widen slightly in surprise at their identity.

Your ex-fiancée 

Stopping in her tracks, Natasha redirects her attention to the two of them.

“What did you need to see Y/n for?” she asks.

Your ex turns to her at her question, and an expression of amazement crosses her face.

“Oh, wow, you’re Black Widow.”

Brushing off her awed exclamation, Natasha crosses her arm expectantly as she repeats, a slight tone of protectiveness entering her voice.

“Why are you looking for Y/n?” 

Noticing her serious gaze and intimidating demeanor, your ex fidgets with her hands nervously as she responds.

“It’s kind of a private matter with an old case that I need her help with,” she explains.

Despite being the one who broke your heart, your mutual break up with her meant that the two of you are still somewhat friends, and as much as Natasha wants to, she can’t prevent your ex from seeking you out, especially since it seems she needs your help.

With an internal displeased sigh, Natasha gestures with her head towards the direction of the elevators.

“I’m heading over to her office right now if you want to come with me,” Natasha offers, nodding at the receptionist reassuringly to indicate that it’s okay, before walking away without another word. 

Natasha hears your ex scramble to follow quickly after her once she processes her words.

As the elevator doors close with the two of them inside, Natasha pulls out her phone to send you a warning text.

I’m on the way to your office with your ex.

A read message quickly appears under her text, indicating that you have seen it, and then a text bubble promptly pops up as you respond.

?!?!?

“So, do you and Y/n work together often?” your ex asks, trying to fill the silence with casual conversation.

Natasha looks up at her question, tucking her phone away. She crosses her arms and leans back against the elevator walls, adopting an intimidating posture, as she gives her a hard stare.

With a calm yet assertive tone, she tilts her head curtly and replies with the truth. 

“She’s my girlfriend.”

An awkward silence fills the small space after her answer, and your ex’s eyes dart around the enclosed space, seemingly realizing she’s essentially alone with the Black Widow who just revealed that she is in a relationship with you. 

Sensing her nervous energy, Natasha relaxes her posture, offering a more friendly demeanor.

“Relax, if I was going to do something, I would have done it already,” Natasha reassures. 

Your ex nods hesitantly, acknowledging Natasha’s attempt to diffuse the tension. After a moment of contemplation, she gathers the courage to speak up again. 

“So, you know about Y/n and her ability?” your ex asks, her voice tinged with curiosity.

“Yes,” Natasha confirms, adding, “And about what happened between the two of you.”

The revelation hangs heavy in the air, plunging the elevator into an uncomfortable silence once again. 

Honestly, Natasha knows she shouldn’t keep putting your ex in these awkward positions with her responses. 

However, just because you are on friendly terms with her doesn’t mean Natasha has to be, especially considering she never held any goodwill toward the woman before.

Natasha redirects her focus to the digital display above the door, silently cursing and blaming Tony for the sluggish pace of the elevator. 

“I-I honestly did love her,” your ex confesses, breaking the silence once again.

At her statement, Natasha regards her with a raised eyebrow, silently prompting her to elaborate on her sudden declaration.

"I mean, Y/n’s great. It’s just…it got hard to imagine being with someone who always knows if you’re telling the truth or not,” your ex explains with a small sigh, offering a tiny sympathetic shrug before asking. “I’m sure you understand that feeling too, right?"

Irritation flares in Natasha’s chest at your ex’s words, her protective instincts surfacing in defense of you.

"Maybe the fact that she can see someone for who they truly are is what makes being with her so special," Natasha counters, her voice firm with conviction.

The remainder of the elevator ride passes in tense silence until the doors finally open with a ding, signaling their arrival at your floor. 

Throughout that time, one part of the conversation continues to bother Natasha, and she finds herself asking, wanting to know the answer.

“Did you tell her often?”

“What?” your ex asks, blinking in surprise and caught off guard by her sudden question. 

Natasha presses her lips together momentarily in displeasure at the topic before clarifying, “Did you tell Y/n that you loved her often, you know, before your feelings changed?”

“Oh, um, kind of,” she admits, a faint chuckle escaping her lips. “It’s actually kind of funny. Y/n would always have this cute little shy smile whenever I said it, so I ended up saying those words to her a lot.”

The irritation in Natasha’s chest intensifies at her answer, and her feelings must be evident on her face because your ex starts waving her hands frantically in a slight panic.

“But I’m positive Y/n won’t react the same way if I said it now,” she adds quickly.

Instead of responding, Natasha leaves the elevator without another word. 

Your ex’s reassurance does little to ease the irritation that she feels at not yet having been able to say those words to you herself.

The two of them arrive at the door of your office, only to find it locked with the lights turned off.

Just as Natasha is about to text you to ask you about your whereabouts, you emerge from around the corner, skidding to a stop in front of her.

Confused at your flustered state, Natasha gives you a questioning look as she asks, “Why are you rushing?”

You take a couple of deep breaths to catch your breath before answering.

“Because…I didn’t want to…to leave you waiting.”

Natasha feels her heart flutter at your words, her posture relaxing for a moment.

“…wow…you look good, Y/n,” your ex comments.

Natasha’s body immediately tenses again at the reminder of your ex’s presence, and she becomes further annoyed when she takes in the state of your appearance that prompted the remark from your ex.

You are in your usual workout outfit, a standard black tank top, showcasing your body with a gleam of sweat still on your skin, evidence of your workout session.

As if sensing Natasha’s increasing irritation, your ex gestures awkwardly in fear toward the waiting area some distance away.

“I’ll just wait over there.”

Natasha watches your ex walk away with a slight glare in her eyes. 

When she turns back to you, her expression instinctively softens with affection and curiosity.

“Where were you?” she asks.

“My last couple of interviews had to cancel, so I decided to go train for a bit,” you answer with a slight shrug. “You know, since you suggested that I try training whenever I’m bored and have some free time.”

Natasha's lips twist slightly in conflict at your response. She's happy you took her suggestion to heart, but now she's also upset that it led to you appearing in front of your ex in such a state.

Gesturing toward your ex, you ask, “Did she say why she’s here?”

Natasha sighs and shakes her head.

“She only mentioned that it was an old case that you can help her with.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding in understanding, probably already knowing what she’s referring to. 

Then you look at Natasha with a cute tilt of your head. 

“After I finish up with her, do you want to go out for some lunch?”

A small smile forms on Natasha’s face, her earlier irritation melting away at your suggestion. 

However, she knows she might not have enough time to wait and go out before her next meeting.

“How about I go ahead and pick up some takeout first, and then we can have lunch in your office when I return?” Natasha offers as a compromise.

You smile at her in response and press a soft kiss against her cheek.

“It’s a date.”

As you’re about to move past her, Natasha presses her hand firmly on your shoulder, stopping you and pushing you back to your original position.

You give her a questioning look in confusion.

“Did you take my hoodie again?” Natasha asks accusingly. 

Your eyes dart guiltily to your office before you mutter under your breath with a soft pout, “Maybe.”

Natasha nods slightly in contemplation, her eyes glancing at where your ex was waiting and then back to you.

“Put it on,” she says plainly.

You raise a brow at her in confusion and gesture to your body.

“Nat, I’m covered in sweat. I didn’t get a chance to hit the showers before you texted,” you explain.

“That text didn’t mean that you should come here all hot and sweaty in front of your ex like this,” Natasha remarks pointedly, crossing her arms.

A teasing grin pulls at your lips as a look of understanding crosses your face.

“You think I look hot right now?” you ask happily.

“Seriously?” Natasha deadpans. 

Unbothered by her signature intimidating gaze, you pull her closer by the loops on her belt and lean in with a slight tilt of your head.

“Are you jealous?” you tease lightly, your bottom lip caught in between your teeth as you try to hide your pleased grin.

Natasha rolls her eyes, though her lips quirk up briefly in amusement. She knows whether she responds truthfully or not, you probably already know the answer without the help of your ability, so she responds instead.

“Keep it up, and I’ll just come back with one takeout box for myself,” she warns.

You laugh lightly at her response, nodding your head in concession.

“Alright, I’ll put it on,” you promise, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. 

As you pull away, you whisper, “I love you,” the words brushing softly against her lips.

Natasha’s eyes had fluttered closed at the touch of your kiss, but they snapped open when she remembered she wanted to say those words back to you too.

However, to her disappointment, before she realized it, you had disappeared from her side. 

Turning around, she finds you already in your office, putting on her hoodie.

A mocking chuckle sounds beside her, and she turns to see Loki leaning casually against the wall.

“Oh, you didn’t even try that time,” he taunts.

Without hesitation, Natasha raises her wrist and shoots a widow bite at him. It flies through his body, dispersing the apparition that he had left there.

Groaning in annoyance at his presence, Natasha quickly leaves to go get your lunches before he can reappear and provoke her further.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“So this is the one lie detector that you can’t beat,” Fury comments with intrigue, as he examines your file.

Natasha closes the folder promptly and takes it from the table in front of him, stating firmly, “Her name’s Y/n, and no, you can’t have her. She’s just going to help review the list of potential recruits for you. Nothing else.”

She gives him a pointed look, stressing, “Especially not any SHIELD interrogations.”

Leaning back in his chair, Fury chuckles amusedly and raises a brow at her.

“Protective, are we?”

Before she can affirm the lengths she would go to minimize the risks you have to take, the door slams open, and you stroll in, giving her a wave and a charming smile. 

You stop in front of her, taking her hand suddenly in yours and giving it a light swing. 

“Ready to get started?” you ask. 

Natasha’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Something about your behavior was off and unlike you. 

She examines your expression critically, and then in one swift, fluid motion, she grabs your wrist and upper arm, pivots on her heel, and shifts her weight, seamlessly flipping you over her shoulder. 

With a resounding thud, Natasha slams you down onto the meeting table, the impact rattling the room.

Fury whistles lowly with a slight wince, a mixture of sympathy and admiration in his tone.

“Tough love, huh?” he remarks to her.

Natasha rolls her eyes at his comment and shakes her head, reaching to her side to grab something. She takes one of “your” wrists and snaps a golden cuff onto it. 

Immediately, the figure on the table shifts from your face and form to Loki’s. 

His eyes glare at her as he gathers his bearings, giving a slight grunt of pain when he moves.

“As if this woman knows anything about love,” he scoffs, standing up from the table with a groan.

Fury hums curiously at the sight of the trickster god, turning to Natasha.

“Who let him in here?”

Natasha sighs as she crosses her arms, replying, “Unfortunately, Thor and he are on friendly terms at the moment.”

Loki raises his hand and waves his finger at her in reprimand.

“Exactly. Now, is this any way to treat a guest of yours?” he taunts with a smirk before his eyes drift to the cuff on his wrist. His expression falls in recognition. “Where did you get this?”

A smirk forms on Natasha’s face as she answers, “Thor lent it to me when I asked. Since I know better than to just take his things.”

The cuff in question is an enchanted artifact that temporarily blocks the magical abilities of the wearer as explained by the god of thunder.

Loki scoffs in disbelief, placing one hand on his hips while waving his other wrist at her. 

“Hilarious, now take these off,” he demands.

Natasha’s smirk remains fixed as she shakes her head.

“I don’t have the key,” she admits, tapping her chin thoughtfully before revealing, “It must still be with Thor. But I’m sure you’ve already apologized to him for earlier, so you’d have no problem asking him to release you.”

Loki scowls, his expression darkening with disdain, and then he swiftly turns toward the exit.

“It’s no wonder that girl doesn’t want to accept any love from the likes of you,” he spits out angrily.

Natasha’s lips twist downward at his words, but before she can respond, a knock on the door interrupts the tense moment. 

Taking a calming breath, she calls out, “Come in,” already knowing who it is.

You open the door at Natasha’s invitation, only to dodge out of the way as Loki storms past you out of the room, muttering angry curses under his breath.

Turning back to Natasha, you notice the telltale red aura fading from around her and wonder what was the lie that you assume she had just told him.

As you approach her, Natasha’s contemplative, sullen expression quickly shifts to a neutral one when she catches your concerned gaze.

Before you can question her about it, Fury claps his hands firmly, looking between the two of you.

“Alright, let's finish this quickly then.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Seated on your sofa, Natasha hugs a cushion pillow closer to her chest, seeking comfort as Loki’s harsh words echo in her mind.

Is it just a coincidence that you manage to avoid her every time she’s about to say those words to you? Or is it possible that the truth is you don’t actually want to hear those words from her?

You place a bowl of popcorn on the table in front of her, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts as you finish explaining what your ex needed from you.

“So, I just need to submit my notes on the case so that the court can close it out,” you explain.

Natasha hums absently in acknowledgment, but her mind drifts back to her insecurities.

Was Loki just messing with her or were all of your previous evading actions really on purpose?

Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Natasha decides to settle this once and for all.

As you take your seat next to her and start the movie, Natasha initiates her plan. She quickly maneuvers herself over your lap, straddling you as her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing you firmly against the sofa with her body.

Your hand automatically rests on her waist and begins tracing light patterns against her side, but your lips twist into a small pout of confusion as you remark, “As exciting as this is, I thought this movie was your favorite.”

Natasha closes her eyes briefly, internally groaning at your adorable words and how incredibly in love she is with you. 

If only you could hear it from her for once.

Determined to not fail this time, she tries again.

“I lo—”

Her words are cut off, swallowed by you, as you pull her down into a deep kiss. 

Instinctively, she melts against your body, sliding her hands to caress the back of your neck, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss as she gets lost in the feeling of your lips moving against hers. 

Then, realization hits her, and she snaps her eyes open and pulls away. 

“Hold on, I’m trying to tell you that I—”

“I know,” you interrupt, your hand covering her mouth to stop her mid-sentence. 

That’s when Natasha sees it.

The fear in your eyes.

“I know,” you repeat, giving her a look of understanding before swallowing nervously. 

You close your eyes as your head drops to your chest, a sad chuckle escaping from you. 

“You know, in all my life, I have never been afraid to discover if someone was lying to me,” you admit, shrugging lightly. “I’ve always known that people can lie, so it’s never really surprising or hurtful when it happens.” 

You let out a weary sigh and look up to meet her gaze with a sad smile. 

“Except for that one time.”

Natasha knows what moment you are referring to — the night your powers revealed that your ex no longer loved you.

The memory flashes in your mind, vivid and raw, as if it happened only yesterday. The betrayal, the heartache, the crushing realization when the red aura appeared around her after she uttered those fateful three words to you.

Your attention returns to the woman in front of you, the one who helped heal your heart. The one who now holds it. 

The one who also has the power to hurt you in the exact same way, even though you know she won’t.

“I love you so much, Natasha,” you say with breathless adoration and honesty, but your expression pinches in fear as you continue, your voice trembling slightly. “But I don’t think I'm ready to hear it from you yet. Just…not those exact words.”

You sigh sadly, understanding how unfair your words are to her, and your chest tightens guiltily as you apologize, “I’m sorry. Look, I’d understand if you want to leave.”

You look away from Natasha, your mouth pressing together tightly, fighting the urge to cry. 

The silence stretches out in the room before Natasha gently cradles your face, bringing your gaze back to her.

“You make me happy,” Natasha declares firmly.

You give her a confused look at her words.

“Wh-what?”

Ignoring your question, Natasha continues, asking meaningfully, “Am I lying?”

Your eyes observe her for a moment, but you don’t see any indication of a red aura appearing.

“No,” you answer in confusion.

Natasha nods before continuing, “I don’t mind that your powers reveal truths about me, like the moments when I want to hold your hand or when I’m jealous.”

She tilts her head at you in question.

“Am I lying?” she asks again.

Still not seeing any red aura appear around her, you shake your head at her in response.

Natasha rests her forehead against yours, letting out a deep breath, before continuing, “I’m afraid that one day…” she pauses, taking in a shaky breath to prepare herself for what she’s about to admit out loud. 

“…one day you’ll wake up and decide that because of who I was, who I am now is not enough for you to stay with me anymore.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you go to reassure her, “I wouldn’t—”

“Am I lying?” Natasha interrupts, not wanting you to worry about comforting her at this time.

Your eyes soften sadly when you see the vulnerability and fear in her eyes at her words. 

You reach up to cup her cheek, your thumb caressing her face gently in comfort as you whisper, “No.”

Leaning against your touch, Natasha lets out a steadying breath to compose herself for the final part of her point.

“So when I say I can wait…” she pauses, looking into your eyes with a serious and determined expression, making sure you can see the sincerity of her next words. 

“…I’ll wait for as long as you need so that one day I can say those words to you…am I lying?”

You watch her carefully for a moment, but nothing appears to counter her claim. Realizing her intentions to reveal her feelings in another way, your heart fills with love and adoration for her as you answer with a soft smile. 

“No, you’re not lying, Natasha.”

She gives you a gentle grin and cups your face, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before admitting, “That’s because when I’m with you, Y/n, it never feels like I’m living a lie.”

A breathless, awed gasp escapes from you at her words, and you can’t help but pull her in closer, her red hair falling around you like a curtain.

“I love you,” you whisper against her lips, the words filled with genuine adoration for the woman.

Natasha smiles softly at your words and closes the distance between the two of you once again, her kisses tender and filled with all of her unspoken feelings. Her lips move against yours with gentle urgency, conveying everything she can’t yet say aloud.

The warmth of her touch, the sincerity of her kiss, and the way she holds you protectively — all of it reassures you. 

It doesn’t matter that those three words haven’t been spoken explicitly — her actions, her presence, the look in her eyes says it all already.

Natasha may be considered one of the greatest spies in the world thanks in part to her exceptional ability to lie, but even she can’t hide the truth from you.

Without needing to hear her utter those fateful three words aloud, you already know the truth in your heart.

That Natasha Romanoff truly loves you too.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading and for all the love that you all gave to the first part! I hope you enjoyed this one too!

[wlw-imagines]

It’s Not What It Looks Like - Eloise Bridgerton/Reader (Bridgerton)

request: “can you make like a eloise bridgerton and her lover get caught?” - anon

a/n: very excited to have the time to be writing again, happy days -- set at beginning/mid season 2 ig?? also regency homophobia? pft the bridgertons are above that shit (mostly... so this is a sprinkling of regency homophobia warning ig but more gay pride really !!)

back to new fresh writing from this year (how is it 2024 wtf) - word count is almost 6k yo + no editing because i do not want to

The two of you giggled like little children as you raced one another up the stairs. Eloise pulled on your arm in an attempt to overtake you but you just about managed to beat her to the spot - despite her cheating tactics. 

You tangled your fingers with hers, holding onto her hand as you opened the door to her room, “We should cause a nuisance to your Mother more often.” You looked over your shoulder and made eye contact as you spoke, grinning mischievously. 

Her cheeks turned a sweet rosy colour as she mirrored your smile, letting go of your hand in favour of wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, her hands rested on your hips.

“Hmm, what a punishment to get sent away to be together.” Eloise expelled an over-dramatic sigh before letting out a light laugh. “After all, we are just doing what we’re told.” She shrugged innocently and moved around you, sitting down and landing on her bed with a bounce.

You laughed, letting your gaze linger across her room, acquainting yourself once more with Eloise’s own space and all the small things that had changed since you were last here, “It seems extremely unlike you to ever do what you are told, my love.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, before patting the space next to her.

“Come here, sit.” She smiled and shifted slightly to the side, “Perhaps close the door first.” You let out a small laugh and turned around, gently pushing the door shut.

Turning back to Eloise, you quirked up an eyebrow and smiled, taking a few steps back to stand in front of her, “Is the door shut so we may have further deep discussions about the poetry you leant me? Because if so-”

As soon as you were close enough, Eloise interrupted you and pulled your body between her legs, pressing against her front. Before you could try to finish your sentence, El had her hand resting on your jaw and had pulled you towards her to kiss you. 

Her kiss was, as always, full of emotion and meaning, though today it was also a kiss with a hint of urgency. You let yourself relax into her as she kept your body firmly against hers in as many ways as possible - craving your touch.

You pulled away gently and rested against her. She closed her eyes and smiled, “I must admit to wanting to do that for the longest time.”

Putting your hand back under her chin, you whispered, “You may do it again, if you so wish.” 

She wrapped her arms around you, rolling and pulling you onto the bed so you were lying on top of her and she giggled, peppering your face with kisses.

“We should be careful, my love.” You said, pursing your lips and glancing at the door as you pushed yourself up. El sighed and pulled you back against her, a slight pout on her lips.

She jutted her chin up slightly in defiance and her pout gave way to a soft smile, “Maybe I do not want to be careful.” 

You let out a small snort and gently raised an eyebrow again, “Hmm,” You pressed a few soft kisses to the corner of her mouth, before moving yourself so you were laying next to her with your legs still across her lap - ignoring her protests. You felt something crackle beneath you and moved to grab it and, upon realising it was the newest Whistledown, you held it out to Eloise, “Did you read the latest gossip?”

She groaned lightly in frustration at your distraction tactics but humoured you all the same, rolling onto her side and propping herself up on her elbow, “I may have been distracted half way through. It arrived just before you did.” Her hand came to rest on your stomach and she gently traced her fingers over the material of your dress.

“Where did you get to?” You asked, the gossip already opened as you re-read the pieces you had seen earlier in the day. Eloise raised her head slightly to look at the paper in your hand and gestured to the third paragraph of the first page.

“Perhaps around there?” She shrugged slightly.

Your eyes widened, “Oh, but you completely missed the best bit!”

“Read it to me?” Eloise asked, looking to you through her eyelashes. You smiled, blushing at the intimacy of the moment. 

“Surely there are more romantic things for me to read to you?”

She just hummed and rested her head against your shoulder, “My heart is so full for you that anything you do makes it beat faster.” 

“You’re very soppy, you know that right?” The blush on your cheeks increased tenfold and you couldn’t resist pressing a soft kiss to her lips, brushing your noses together before moving back slightly.

Before you could get another word out, Eloise’s door burst open and Hyacinth fell into the room, a broad grin on her face. Her eyes skipped around the room, looking for the two of you, “Hello? Sister, please - please may I borrow your silk ribbons for m-

You did your best to scramble up and put a bit more platonic space between yourself and Eloise, “H! Good afterno-”

Eloise lazily rolled over, glancing over her shoulder to see her sister, “Hyacinth? Go away. We were in the middle of-”

Hyacinth cleared her throat and had already begun retreating backwards out of the room, her face bright red, “Oh... I didn’t- Sorry, excuse me.”

Your heart was beating faster now and you called out in an attempt to stop her. You wanted to try to explain that it’s not what it looked like at all, “H, wait-”

“Don’t, just let her go. Stay here with me.” Eloise took your hand and tried to pull you back into her again but you resisted this time.

“No, El, what if she tells someone?”

Eloise sat up next to you with exaggerated effort and huffed, “What would she say? Besides, I still want to do this...” She leant towards you, her hand brushing against your hips as she gently connected her lips with yours, “And you were going to read to me?” She whispered, mere inches away from capturing your lips with hers once more.

“What would she-? Really, my love? What would you say if you were to see... the Duke, for example, practically straddling your sister?”

“Straddling? We weren’t straddling, we were just- It’s not...” The realisation dawned on her as she looked at you and considered the close proximity - her hand on your lower stomach, your legs tangled together. Her face went pale as she whispered, “Oh, fuck. Hyacinth! Sister, it is not what it seems.” She untangled herself from you and jumped off the bed, gathering her skirts as she chased after her sister. “Hyacinth!” 

You took a second to panic before pushing yourself off the bed and you followed El out the room, almost crashing into her back on the landing outside, “Where has she gone?” You asked El, who shrugged and you could see the similar panic in her eyes, mirroring your own.

“Mama!” Hyacinth’s voice drifted to you from below. Your head snapped round to the stairs.

“Bloody hell!” Eloise muttered under her breath, running around you to get to the stairs. She thundered down them and, if you weren’t worried about Hyacinth, then you would have laughed at her complete unladylike stomping.

Hyacinth’s voice wailed again as she looked around for her family, “Mama!”

“Oh my, whatever is the matter?” Violet’s voice joined the mix once Hyacinth had found her, evidently exasperated with all her children’s drama.

“It was Y/N and Eloise! They were... together.”

It felt as though there was an audible eyeroll before the two of you heard a response, “Well, yes, I sent them both upstairs to talk about their books and other such stuff. They were too loud down here with all their... chatter.” Just as she finished talking, both you and Eloise hurtled around the corner and into the sitting room, in which the whole family was sitting.

Eloise quickly - and loudly - voiced her objections to whatever accusations she had been picturing her sister making, “Mother, whatever Hyacinth has just said... she is lying. She is withholding the truth from you, as she often does, and-”

Hyacinth’s nostrils flared slightly in annoyance, “I do not!” She interrupted, frowning over at her sister, who quickly (and childlishly) responded right back.

“Do too!”

“Eloise, be kind to your sister.” Lady Violet quickly put her hands up to signal for the two sisters to stop talking and to find some kind of peace, “Besides, she has said nothing but that the two of you were talking.” She shrugged and began to turn back to the rest of the family but Hyacinth piped up again, more confusion and irritation lacing her voice this time.

You quietly and quickly prayed to any deity listening that Hyacinth’s words wouldn’t be utterly discriminating, you still had a chance to wriggle your way out of any current accusations.

“No, I don’t mean talking.” Hyacinth rolled her eyes and her cheeks turned red, “Mama, you must believe me. They were... together!”

Violet let out a deep breath and shrugged apologetically, “Darling, I do not know what you mean.”

You clear your throat and try to shrug nonchalantly, but ends up an awkward flail, “No one does- I mean, it’s fine. Let us all go back to what we were doing, how about that?” You try to move the conversation on - desperately, you must admit.

Simon raises an eyebrow and tilts his head ever so slightly at you, you blush and shake your head. This immediately causes a smirk to break out on his lips, which he clearly does his best to suppress or to hide but this just brings Daphne’s attention to him. You are sure your blush is a permanent feature now.

“Hyacinth, you always cause such a rush and a chaos, running down here to announce nonsense. What do you mean ‘they are together’?” Daphne herself chooses to chime in, frowning at Simon with a questioning glint in her eye.

Eloise lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes her head, “I rather think she means nothing, so-”

Anthony sighed deeply and in an over-exaggerated manner, leaning his head on his palm before snapping, “No more breath need be wasted on this subject. They were together, so what?” He shrugged, clearly bored of the conversation and fuss, and dropped his hands to his knees.

Eloise brightened up and gestured towards him as she looked and nodded to the rest of her family and then focused her gaze back to Anthony, “Well said, brother!” 

“Eloise!” Colin gasped and you did all you could to suppress a groan of disbelief. Anthony immediately straightened in his seat, a fresh interest lighting up his eyes.

“What?” She looked to you with slight alarm, sensing she had done something wrong.

“Agreeing so vehemently with Anthony? I never thought I’d see the day!” Colin leant forward, looking between Anthony and Eloise. He shrugged, raising an eyebrow, “Well, if my suspicions weren’t first raised by Hyacinth screaming the house down - now they well and truly are.” 

Eloise took a deep breath in and shuffled her feet slifghtly before rolling her eyes, “Sometimes... I occasionally might agree with what he has to say.” She folded her arms tightly across her chest, staring defiantly at Colin.

“No, you don’t.” Anthony challenged, bringing everyone’s attention back to him.

Eloise frowned and gritted her teeth, “Yes, I do.”

He let out a scoff, “No, I am sure that you do not.” 

“I simply insist that I do!” 

You let out a small sigh and sunk down into the armchair next to Simon and Daphne. Simon sent you a glance that, at first one may think was sympathetic, but, upon further inspection, showed he was clearly enjoying your public annihilation. You just glared at him, which made him simply smile. Infuriating man.

Colin stood up between the two of them and gestured to Eloise, “Now look! You can’t even agree as to whether you agree.”

“So, what, pray tell, is going on?” Daphne raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and Simon and clearly clocking the looks you were giving one another.

You reluctantly cleared your throat, deciding now was a good time to take the heat off from Eloise who was clearly struggling, “I promise, nothing untoward is happening here. We were just playing games, weren’t we H?” You smiled over at Hyacinth, begging her with your eyes to just go along with it.

Hyacinth’s eyes lit up, “Like Daph, and the Duke!” You audibly groaned this time. This kid would not take any hints.

VIolet hesitated, her eyes flitting from one daughter to the next, Hyacinth to Daphne to Eloise, before letting out a confused- “What?”

“They were together... like them!” Hyacinth looked slightly triumphant as she pointed across to Simon and Daphne.

Simon raised an eyebrow and shook his head before muttering under his breath, “Oh, no. Please don’t drag us into this.” You wanted to turn to him and stick your tongue out, but realised that was probably not the best move to play in this very moment.

“Well, I rather think we should let the two in question answer us.” Daphne stared pointedly at the two of you. 

“Here, here!” Simon quickly chimed in, wearing another annoying smirk on his face as he looked at you.

You were about to attempt to protest but as you opened your mouth Eloise defiantly piped up, “Fine.” She shrugged, as nonchalant as she could be.

“What?” You asked in a low voice with a bit of urgency, looking up at where she was standing above you.

You locked eyes and she nodded, clearly trying to convey a message (of which you had  speaking slowly. “Y/N and I were...” She hesitated and you started to panic, knowing you had to come up with something in order to save her.

“Arguing.” Eloise said at the exact same time as you interjected with- “Dancing.”

Eloise swirled back around to look at you, “Dancing? Why in the heavens would we be dancing?” She all but hissed and you looked at her with equal confusion.

“Your sister and her husband dance together... I don’t know?” You rolled your eyes before gesturing at her as you stood up, “Better, in my lowly opinion, than arguing.” 

“I had a plan! If you just let me say it then we would be fine right now.” She lowered her voice - as if that would stop everyone (who all had their eyes glued to the pair of you) from hearing your conversation.

You shook your head, “Eloise, you were floundering!” 

“I was not.” El all but stomped her foot, “I was... pausing for dramatic effect.”

“No, you always do that long pause whenever you are moments away from coming up with a lie. Everyone knows that!” Your voice rose slightly and you gestured to everyone in the room. In your peripheral vision, you could see Daphne raise her eyebrows before nodding. Even if you couldn’t keep the two of you a secret any longer, at least you had the vindication of winning that single point.

You watched as Eloise tried to come up with a rebuttal but, as already established, you were clearly correct. You grinned at her, utterly triumphant, and she just sighed before fondly rolling her eyes and letting her own smile mirror your own.

A clearing of the throat broke the brief silence and Colin’s voice soon followed, “It doesn’t take a genius to understand that the two of you are clearly lying but... really, Y/N? I mean, I must agree. Dancing? Eloise doesn’t dance lest she makes Mother believe she wants to be married off to the unlucky suitor.”

Eloise quickly shifted her glance to Colin and frowned, “I dance.” She insisted at the same time as you moodily grumbled out, “We dance.” and sat back down. To which Colin simply raised an eyebrow and opened his palms.

“Well, in that case, maybe Mother should marry her off to you.” He said and, seconds later, his gaze shifted to one of understanding. He went to open his mouth and shut it moments later.

Hyacinth let out a loud, frustrated sigh and pointed at Colin, “That’s my point! They were behaving like they’re married!”

“Right... I see.” Violet sat up stiffer in her chair and glanced down at her entwined hands before looking up to her daughter, “Hyacinth, go to your room.”

“But-”

Hyacinth went to protest but was quickly shut down with a steely one word response from her mother - “Go.” Reluctantly (and rather sulkily), she retreated out of the family room and stomped up every single stair before shutting the door to her bedroom rather loudly.

Throughout this, Violet’s eyes restlessly moved from her hands, to Eloise, and back, before eventually landing on Eloise completely. “Now, Eloise, I will only ask you this once. Were you- What was it that the two of you were... Tell me what Hyacinth means by...” Her mother danced around the subject, her hands working at the fabric of her dress, until Daphne sighed loudly and moved her body to sit facing Eloise.

“Mother remains to lack a certain skill of talking directly about... certain things. May I ask instead... are the two of you fucking?” She kept eye contact the whole time, hardly reacting as her mother physcially flinched and gasped, her cheeks turning rosy.

“Daphne!” Violet spoke, aghast.

Daphne eventually turned to her mother, “What? You cannot dilly-dally around with such a subject.” She shrugged and turned back to the two of you.

“I... yes. I guess perhaps... that is what I was getting around to in a way.” Violet’s gaze evetually settled on the two of you as well. 

You knew this direct line of questioning (and outing by Eloise’s sister) was going to be slightly harder to avoid than previously. And even then you hadn’t managed to do a convincing job of it. Still, the two of you bravely (stupidly) fought on.

Eloise vehemently shook her head, “I- no! We don’t...” She put her hand on your shoulder, which would normlly be soothing, but you pushed it off, hoping no one saw (they clearly did). “I mean we weren’t-”

You squirmed in your seat slightly. Explaining your relationship with El’s family was not what you had planned for the day, “What Eloise is trying to say is-” Eloise shook her hand at you, trying to forge on with her own sentence.

“To say ‘fucking’ is too-”

Your eyes widened at the way in which this conversation seemed to be going, “Eloise!” You cut her off, cheeks ablaze.

She looked across to you with innocent eyes, “What! I-”

Before she could land you in it even more, you tried to steer this into safer territory - desperate not to have to talk about sex in front of Eloise’s family, “Okay, listen-”

Again, Eloise managed to charge on. You slumped back in your chair, exhausted from trying to keep Eloise under control and away from the topic of fucking, “You know, I find it very interesting that... pleasuring a woman is deemed purely a male pastime and not-”

You let out a groan of frustration and sighed, taking hold of Eloise’s hand and squeezing softly, “El, my love, not the time.” She kept hold of your hand and turned to you. You took this as an opportunity to actually talk, “She meant we were not doing anything of the... sort. We would not even perchance dream of-”

Before you could finish your sentence, yet another Bridgerton was interrupting you. You involuntarily squeezed Eloise’s hand, tense at having to fight off more allegations, “They definitely are... surely. Look at them.” Daphne spoke.

You looked around the room. To Simon, who looked in pain at how much he was having to hold in a laugh. Daphne, who looked victorious. Colin, who still had an annoying, clever (but not unkind) smirk on his face. Anthony, who - in all honestly - couldn’t look much more like he was living a nightmare - perhaps tortured was the word. He was probably not feeling up to dealing with yet another Bridgerton scandal or another duel at dawn (which, for the record, neither were you). And Violet, who had started to return to a more normal colouring in her face, was looking slightly more relaxed - although you still couldn’t really read the woman.

Then... Eloise, who, since you had interrupted her, had been gazing at you. You were fools to believe that you could keep this under wraps. You finally saw her as if you were looking from the outside in and she had the most ridiculous, overpowering, gorgeous love-eyes you had ever seen. You melted in your chair slightly. You’d do anything to not have to give this up.

Eloise squeezed your hand gently and enveloped you in a hug as she was still standing and as you were still sitting, squeezing you into her side. She took a step back and held out both her hands. You hesitated but nodded, slipping your hands into hers.

With her gaze holding yours she nodded, “Yes, fine, we’re fucking.”

“Eloise!” You gasped, letting go of her hands and swatting at her head. She let out a laugh as she ducked away from you. Simon, next to you, finally let out the laugh he had been holding and Daphne quickly joined in. You turned to them, with red cheeks once more, “It’s not funny! Eloise, you’re being crass. And an ass. And anything else that rhymes!”

“I’m just answering the question I was given!” She grinned cheekily, stepping close enough to tempt another attempt at a hit from you, before dodging it just in time and letting out another laugh. You couldn’t help but start to grin at the absurdity of the situations, Eloise laughing wildly as she jumped around you, Simon shaking with laughter next to you. Even Anthony may have let out a small laugh. Maybe.

“Okay, stop, everyone.” Violet’s voice interrupted the slight moment of insanity, “How long has this been going on for?”

Eloise, still slightly puffed out from dodging your attacks, shrugged the question off, “Mother, it’s not-”

“How long?” Violet’s eyes were steely as she raised an eyebrow, tutting when Eloise let the silence stretch on a bit too long.

“Perhaps just a handful of months? Two? Or three. Maybe four?” Eloise’s smile shrank with every word.

“Under my roof?”

You slid back into your seat and quietly mumbled, “Under many a roof, in all fairness.” Although Violet had clearly heard as she frowned.

“What is this?” She asked gesturing between the two of you.

“What do you mean?” Eloise asked, stubborn as always, pushing her mother further than perhaps necessary.

Violet sighed and her eyes raised to the ceiling, “Eloise? Is this just your way of rebelling away from what is expected? From society? From me?” She asked, eyes landing back to Eloise.

“Mother-”

You wished you could bring back the laughter from moments ago. You gritted your teeth, annoyed at the woman you practically saw as your own mother. You hadn’t planned on telling anyone. Really you were going to try to live your whole lives together without anyone finding out. Which, in retrospect, had seemed a bit foolish. But you had hoped that Violet, and the Bridgerton family, of all people would be slightly more free-minded than this.

You stood up, putting yourself between Eloise and Violet, “This isn’t a rebellion.” You huffed out, angrily and frowned at Violet to really prove the point that you were angry at her. As the silence drew on and Eloise didn’t voice her approval of your input, you started to doubt yourself. You slowly turned to Eloise, eyes soft with sudden worry and feeling of self-consciousness, “Is it?”

“Of course not.” She frowned in dismay, shaking her head as she held your chin in her hands for a few moments. She then moved forward so she was shoulder to shoulder with you, “Mother, I- I don’t work to society’s rules. I’m not... it’s not my fault. It’s just me.” 

This was it. This was the make or break. You took in a deep breath and interlinked your fingers with Eloise’s. Stronger together. “El-” You whispered, your heart hammering. Violet had to accept you. She had to.

Violet’s voice came out slightly wobbly, “Eloise, of course it’s not your fault, you just-”

Before Violet could say anything more Eloise interjected, “I love her, I do. I love Y/N. Like you loved Father.” She sniffled slightly. You took a long sideways look at her and squeezed your eyes shut. Come on Violet. “I remember watching and wanting and yearning for what you had, ever since I was young. And I couldn’t understand why I could not even fathom that with any man in the ton. I haven’t known who I am. But I have that with Y/N, I do. You cannot blame me for finding that kind of love with her just because she is not a man, please.” Eloise’s eyes became glossy. You had to give it to her, she always pulled out a good speech. Well... not always actually. But this one was a good one. You squeezed her hand and didn’t stop until Violet answered.

“No, Eloise, I would never.”

“I know it may not seem right to many, but it’s... it’s not my fault... it’s who I am.” Eloise trembled slightly. Violet was on her feet before you knew it.

”Oh, my Eloise.” She herself had watery eyes. You could breathe a bit more easily as she swooped forward and brought Eloise into her arms. You let go of Eloise’s hand to let her wrap her hands around her mother’s waist. After a few moments, Violet pulled back, “Look at me. I know who you are. You’re a Bridgerton. You are one of the strongest people I have ever known. You are not at fault. How could you be when there is nothing to be at fault for?”

“You really think so?” Eloise asked.

Violet held both of Eloise’s clasped in her own, “Of course I do. A love like mine and your father’s, a love like yours, is rare so you have to hold onto it, yes?”

“I will.”

“Come here,” She hugged her again. “You too, Miss Y/L/N. Y/N.” She smiled at you and your face broke into a broad grin as she enveloped you into the hug too. You knew you could rely on her, always. Even if it took a little bit of time. “The two of you deserve the world.”

From the middle of the hug, you heard a soft clearing of a throat and Anthony once again piping up, “I don’t suppose you’ll be providing a dowry?”

Eloise pulled away from the hug, wiping at the tears grouping at the corner of her eyes, “Oh, shove off, Anthony.” She let out a half laugh and a half sob.

“I jest!” He grinned, “Unless...?” He turned to you, raising an eyebrow, a twinkle in his eye.

“I’m sure I have a few pennies to my name.” You smiled and Eloise’s arms circled your waist from behind.

“And I love her for more than just those few pennies!” She shouted over your shoulder, pulling you into her front.

Anthony put a hand on your shoulder and ruffled Eloise’s hair, “I am happy for you.” He finally admitted, a brotherly pride shining in his eyes.

You shifted away, letting Eloise and Anthony have a brief sweet moment (before one of them made a biting remark and it turned to hostility again). You decided to reclaim your seat next to Simon, who, with something akin to brotherly pride, put his arm around your shoulder.

“And I thought Daph and I caused quite the stir.” He grinned, bringing his arm back around to his side.

“Don’t, I’m embarrassed enough as it is.” You wriggled deeper into the settee, willing yourself to forget the majority of the embarrassing things that has just happened. The two of you watched as the present members of the Bridgerton clan all talked at the same time, spitting out jokes and jostling at one another.

Simon followed your gaze to Eloise and let out a deep chuckle, “You’re a rake!” He exclaimed.

You gasped in fake outrage and turned to him, “I am not!” You protested, a smile forming as he continued to laugh and elbow you in the ribs.

“You so are! Worse than me, you rascal.” He smiled, his own gaze settling on his wife, who was tormenting Eloise with ‘girl talk’.

“Stop! I’ve heard the stories of you and Daph. You’ve out-rascaled me ten times over!” You smirked.

He shook his head, “The big rake competition of 1815.” He hummed. You smiled as Eloise came to join you, making you squeeze up to fit herself next to you, as well as letting Daphne fit in her original seat.

As silence descended and everyone started to calm, Violet let out a contended sigh and leant back in her chair, her eyes turning to the settee the four of you were currently squabbling over, “I must say, I’m quite good at this love matching malarkey, aren’t I?” She asked. Everyone immediately stilled and there was a heavy pause before the noise began again.

Anthony raised an eyebrow, “Well, I wouldn’t say that you-”

Daphne let out an exasperated, “Mother!”

Eloise snorted, “You have done nothing to help our love matches!” 

Colin sighed and shook his head, “God help the rest of us...”

Violet decided to ignore all her children and smiled serenely. And at that moment the doors swung open.

“Good afternoon one, good afternoon all, how are we?” Benedict swanned in, immediately clocked a plate of biscuits and helped himself, taking the whole plate in his hands. He munched for a few moments before looking around for an answer. When he didn’t get one from anyone he smiled, “What?” He finished his mouthful and wiped his hand clean before going for another biscuit anyway, “Well, have I missed something?”

There was another long pause before Violet almost burst with the answer, “Y/N and Eloise are together.”

Benedict’s eyes swerved to the two of you, practically sitting in each other’s laps in order to fit on the settee together. He paused before nodding and gesturing in your direction, “Yes, I can see that.”

Violet smiled and shook her head, leaning forward in excitement, “No, like, together together.”

The crease in Benedict’s forehead deepened as he glanced at you again, “Yes... as I say, I can see that quite clearly.” He let out a small laugh, looking around to see if there was some joke he was missing. “Is everyone okay?”

“Oh for goodness sake, can no one in this family communicate properly and succintly?” Daphne fumed, “They are fucking.” 

“Daphne!” You groaned, having prayed that this day couldn’t get more embarrassing for you. And yet there was still more embarrassment to bloody experience. This family was torture (you still would do anything to keep them in your life though, that was clear).

“Okay, can we stop with the crude language?” Violet cast a look to Daphne, before looking at the two of you again with pride, “They are lovers.”

You felt Eloise recoil next to you, “Gross, Mother, no.” She shook her head and only stopped when she saw you looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “What? I mean, I love you but- lovers? Really?”

“Sorry, that’s the big news?” Benedict’s laughed again and his smile grew as he whirled around to look at his whole family again before shaking his head, “Well, obviously! These two are the least subtle ‘lovers’ in the whole bloody world.” 

“Again, with the ‘lovers’.” Eloise muttered next to you.

You smiled and whispered back to her, “Shut up, you love me.” She squeezed your thigh quickly in answer.

“Does anyone actually pay attention to what goes on in this house?” Benedict walked over to the settee you were occupying and leant his elbow on the back of it, taking another biscuit and spreading crumbs as he went.

“Well, I thought we did a splendid job.” Eloise shrugged, removing her hand from your leg and crossing her arms over her chest.

Benedict shook his head, “I’ve seen you kiss at least seven times.”

“You’re counting?” You quirked an eyebrow up, teasing him as he threw his head back to laugh.

“No!” He protested, “I simply mean-”

You jumped up, ready to be the teaser rather than the teased, and grabbed a biscuit of his plate, “Do you keep a little notebook of each time we encounter one another?” You grinned, now finally the one who gets to revel in someone else’s embarrassment.

Eloise snorted, “Dear diary, Eloise and Y/N held hands for seven minutes and forty-two seconds today-”

“Leave me be.” Benedict rolled his eyes good-naturedly and swatted at Eloise as he started to walk away, back out of the family room.

You followed him, taking another biscuit, and continuing Eloise’s joke, “They kissed twice but one was simply a kiss upon the cheek so cannot be counted-”

“And here i was going to offer to be your beard.” He grunted. The rest of the family stayed seated, listening to your conversation.

Your laugh ringed out, “Total kiss-count to date: three.” You mimicked his voice.

“Now that you are essentially a sibling, I am not afraid to kick you down the stairs, you know.” Benedict’s muffled voice came from the bottom of the stairs. Your voices got quieter as you walked to the dining room and Violet looked around the room, smiling brilliantly.

“How marvellous. The family grows!” She winked at Eloise who sighed and left the room, not wanting to be without you now. Violet watched her go and hummed before turning to the rest with a frown, “What is a ‘beard’?”

Anthony took in a deep breath and quickly stood to his feet, “I think dinner is ready.” He cleared his throat and walked out, leaving the rest to slowly join him, and the three of you, at the table.

[happy74827]

Bittersweet Moments

[Peter Maximoff x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Your best friend (if you’d even call him that), is an annoying piece of work 99% of the time. But that 1%? That 1% is pretty special.

WC: 1513

Category: Fluff, Irritated!Reader, Mentions of Migraines

My first Evan Peters fic? Lets go.

『••✎••』

Being friends with that white-haired speedster meant you never had a moment of quiet. The guy was just so fast that you never had a second to blink without him pulling a prank on you, which is why you were constantly on edge around him. You could never trust him.

But that didn't mean that he didn't have his moments.

You were on the floor, eyes shut, attempting to fade the raging migraine out. You made your room into a dark cave and had been there all day, and yet, the pain in your head only grew.

By the time you heard your door creak open, you already felt the presence and the air in the room shift. It was almost like a ghost was floating through the doorway.

"No." The voice was quiet, and the sound was barely audible.

The soft footsteps stopped, and you opened one eye, seeing the blurred white figure. Your vision was blurry, and everything was doubled, but you could make out the face.

"You locked me out." The tone wasn't accusatory or playful. It was a soft, concerned tone that made your chest squeeze.

You rolled your head back, trying to look up at him.

"Sorry," you croaked. "But I’m also not sorry. I needed the silence."

"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively. He crouched down his hand landing on your arm. His skin was cold against yours. "I know you secretly look forward to our little hangouts."

"No, I don't," you grumbled. "And I especially don't right now."

"Can’t even handle my presence without getting whiplash? Man, I must be really awesome."

You could faintly make out his smug smirk, and it made you snort, only worsening your headache.

"Just..." You waved your hand at him. "Get out. Leave."

He, in fact, did not leave. Instead, he stood up and went over to your bed.

You watched him in confusion as he took off his shoes, and then, with a quick flash of light, he was beside you once again, a blanket suddenly wrapped around him.

"Wh-" You were cut off as the blanket was draped around you, and you found yourself pulled up from the ground.

Peter's arm slipped around your shoulders, and he led you over to the bed. He pulled back the covers, and you climbed in, still unsure of what was going on.

Once you were in bed, he pulled the covers back up, and before you could say anything, his headset was ripped from your dresser. He placed them over his ears and lay down beside you.

He looked at you and nodded his head, giving you a thumbs-up.

You just stared at him, completely confused, but his gaze was unwavering. You let out a sigh, deciding to just roll with it. You were too tired to deal with Peter's bullshit anyway.

You rested your head on the pillow and shut your eyes.

A few moments later, a tune started playing, the music filling your ears. Not the loud, classic rock he usually blasted, but a soothing acoustic.

"You’re a fan of the Beatles?" You asked, surprised. You fluttered your eyes only to see Peter's face correctly. He looked like he was in deep thought. And with the soothing music from his Walkman (that he obviously lent to you) and the quiet, you couldn't help but feel a small tug on your heart.

He shrugged. "It just felt like the right song for the mood."

"Meaning… me dying?"

"Oh, stop being dramatic," he rolled his eyes. "Your little brain is just confused from having a devilishly handsome man lay in bed with you."

"You do realize I’ve had this for days now, right?"

"Alright, so, a devilishly handsome man around you. Is that better?"

"I can’t believe I let you in here," you grumbled, closing your eyes once more.

"Don't lie," he said, a little louder than usual since the music was loud in your ears. "You know you like my company—that and my box of sweets."

What box of—

Your eyes opened, and you looked up, seeing him holding a box of chocolate-covered almonds. Your heart did a flip.

"Is this... " You reached for the box, and he handed it to you.

"They're the good stuff. None of that cheap candy crap."

"Wow, you eat something other than Twinkies? I'm impressed," you teased, taking a piece and popping it into your mouth.

"Hey, don't hate the Twinkies. You ever try them with ice cream? It's great. It's like cake, but it's not, ya know? They're just so squishy, but the flavor is there."

"Uh, ew?"

"What, are you some fancy girl? Too high class for my delicious desserts?"

"Yeah, that's exactly it," you laughed, shaking your head. You rested your head on the pillow again.

"Whatever," he chuckled. "Eat your expensive ass almonds. I had to pay actual money for those, and I'm pretty sure Hank's going to notice they're gone."

That made you sit up despite the pounding in your head. "You stole them?! Oh my god, what's wrong with you?!"

"What?" he looked at you innocently. So I stole a box of chocolates. Big deal. The guy's rich. He never notices when I swipe his food. He'll just assume he forgot to put them away or something."

"Ugh, you are such an ass."

"You say ass; I say awesome."

"No," you said, putting another almond into your mouth. "Ass."

"Alright, fine. But, hey, look, who’s still eating the stolen chocolates?"

"Yeah, well," you smirked, taking another one. " Technically, I didn’t steal it. You did. So I can have a clear conscience."

"Ah, I see," he grinned. "Well, in that case, have another. Grab as many as you want. My treat."

You stared at him. "Okay, who are you, and what did you do with Peter?"

"What?"

"This," you gestured towards him. "All of this. You're never nice."

"Well, when you've had a migraine that's lasted for three days, you kinda learn to have a little empathy for that person."

"Three days?" you said, shocked. "Wait, how did you know the exact amount of time?"

"Don’t let anyone tell you you’re just a pretty face… I’m an all-seeing god, remember? Nothing can get by me."

"Except when Apocalypse broke—"

"Okay! Okay, I don’t need to relive that, alright? Sheesh, you're worse than Raven."

You grinned, taking another almond.

"Thanks," you said sincerely.

"For what? Comparing you to the blue lady? Anytime."

"No," you rolled your eyes. "I mean, for not pulling a… well, you. I really do appreciate it."

"Does this mean you’re leaving the Batcave? If we're getting sappy, then I should probably head out. I don’t want to risk my rep."

"You and I both know you have no reputation."

"True," he smiled. But hey, a guy can dream, right?"

You laughed, shaking your head. You were about to lay back down when he spoke up again.

"Actually," he said, looking at the ceiling, "there is one thing I'm good at."

"What's that?"

He didn't say anything. He just stared at the ceiling.

"Pete?"

His head whipped around to you, and with the same speed, he was leaning over you, his face inches away from yours.

"Peter, what—"

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your ear, and the comment you were about to say died in your throat.

"I can shut up."

The sound of his voice, so soft and low, sent shivers down your spine. He pulled away and gave you a quick smile.

"Just something to think about," he said, and you could see the red tint on his cheeks. He sat up and stood in front of you before you could say anything else.

"You can give the Walkman back whenever, so, uh, don't worry about it. Anyway, I gotta get going. You know, stuff to do and snacks to eat." He turned towards the door. "Anyway, feel better. Later."

And before you could comprehend what had just happened, he was gone just like the wind.

You sat in your bed, still feeling the phantom feeling of his breath on your ear.

And ironically, the pain in your head was starting to fade.

So, yes. Despite him being an annoying little shit, he did have his moments. Genuine, quiet, caring moments. And it always made you question whether or not he was secretly a clone.

You were still staring at the door, your mind running a mile a minute.

But then, as if he could read your thoughts, he peeked his head back into your room.

"Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, I'll tell everyone you're a huge Star Wars nerd."

He vanished, and a second later, he was back once more.

"Also, I definitely didn’t steal that Walkman from a certain someone, so, uh, have fun with the mixtape!"

With that, he was gone.

You rolled your eyes and laid back down, putting the headphones back on.

"Ass."

You will definitely be visiting the white-haired speedster tomorrow. He may have his moments, but that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve some good old-fashioned payback.

[thedevilrisen]

Sunsets & Daisies

Luke Hughes x Reader Word Count: 2.3k Description: Luke Hughes and his fiancée always have an annual spring photo shoot, this year for their fourth anniversary Luke gets some welcome news.

Every year, when September hits Luke and Y/N venture to some decadently and much fought over location for their annual photo shoot. What once started with the two cramming into a Photo Booth, drunk on Luke’s birthday became somewhat of their tradition.

This year Y/N had practically begged Luke to relinquish all control he had and give it to her, given as of recently a huge surprise - a future altering surprise, was now at play. It had been almost nine months since Luke proposed and with the wedding two days away the couple thought this would be the perfect time to have the shoot before the season starts.

The location was about a forty-five out of Michigan, and was scheduled for the late afternoon in an attempt to achieve some sunset lit pictures. Luke’s sling added to the difficulty of getting ready, being sure not to accidentally aggravate his shoulder while also trying to get the polo shirt on was a massive task.

"You're too tall Lukey, can you bend down a sec?" you murmured, making sure to gently thread the bunched fabric over his injured shoulder first. The swollen, bruised skin making you grimace as Luke hissed through his teeth when you rotated his arm to allow the other one to slip through. "Sorry bub."

"It's alright." Luke whispered, "You're doing your best and their isn't much else we can do for the pain."

"You can have another does of pain killers when we get there, I'll put them in my purse for you to take before we get there.” The girl spoke as she put said medicine in her purse, among other essentials as well as today’s surprise. While she was allowed the liberty of preparing the surprise with the photographer by graciously offering to organise this year's photo shoot, claiming that Luke already does to much. However if Luke told you the story, it would have been told so dramatically the person listening would have assumed you held him at gunpoint. Which was completely untrue. You had used a hot spatula.

"Sounds, good." Luke spoke, grabbing a cap, using it to brush his hair back so it sat perfectly. You could see the one handed struggle he was having as you watched his scrunched up face in the mirror.

With a heavy sigh you crossed your arms, staring at him in the mirror, "Luke, if you think for a second you are wearing that cap during the shoot you have a lot more concerning things to worry about rather then your shoulder."

“I wouldn’t dare, it’s just till we get there so my hair doesn’t get super frizzy.” Luke stated, giving a pointed look as he turned back around and started to walk over to where you sat at the vanity, brushing the last bits of makeup across your face with the brush before turning the light switch and watching the bulbs dim till the room was bathed in darkness.

Exiting down the hallway and plucking the seperate car, house and gate keys off of their designated wall hooks in the entry way, playing them into your purse knowing because of Luke’s arm, even though he would insist on driving you will have to. Walking into the kitchen, hand brushing past the marble countertop, fingers drifting over the bunch of bananas sitting on the stone as you contemplated what you wanted to eat as well as a snack to take.

Luke trotted down the stairs quickly, heavy footsteps sounding out, softened by carpet but still loud enough to contemplate whether or not an elephant was storming throughout your house. “Should I wear my white sneakers? Or my blue ones?”

“I’d wear the blue.. well they are navy actually. There might be red dirt there and it will be easier to get it out of the blue rather than the white.” you said with an analytical tone, thinking best about the circumstances. “Besides, they will work well with your shirt.”

You heard Luke shuffle off down the hallway to the mud room, where you had all the shoes stowed away in little cubby cubes under the coat rack.

“Can you grab my black ankle boots please?” you requested as you opened the fridge, still in search for snacks you knew you were going to want inevitably. It was remarkable how dense men were sometimes, Luke, who knows you inside and out hasn’t even put a thought as to why you may be eating more or why you wanted one food constantly. Almost like you were craving, something.

“The ones with the little chain?” Luke called back out, you could hear him pulling the weaved baskets in and out.

“No! The ones with the little ribbing down the side of the legs?” You spoke, albeit louder so it carried down the hall into the room Luke was in.

“So the ones with the chain!” Luke’s tone matched yours, his with filtered confusion. He was holding said boots, they were black with a tan, woody coloured block on the heel of them, although it added little height and across the ribbed stitching on the side of the boots was a dainty little gold chain.

From where you were standing, brow creased as you looked into the fridge, eyes darting from the bread to make some toast, to the eggs which you could quickly scramble and maybe put on the toast. Then your eyes locked with the packet of dark chocolate covered almonds. Now they would be good.

“Y/N!” Luke cried, still looking at the boots as he waited for an answer. Looking at the wall with a expression of concern and disbelief.

“They aren’t the same boot Luke! They are different bo-“ Y/N cut herself off as Luke wandered into the kitchen, boots in hand. “Oh. But they are two different boots! I swear they are!”

Slamming the fridge door shut, discarding the loaf of raisin toast and butter container and jar of strawberry jam on to bench, crouching and letting the items fall from your arms onto the bench with a clink from the glass jar. You rounded the counter, using your hand to prevent you from bumping your hip bone on the stone.

Luke watched as you damn near jogged, more of a hop, skip and jump down the hall towards the mud room. It was cute, watching your light anger in being wrong show through your actions. Listening to the manic shuffling of the woven crates as you pulled them out of each of their cubby shelves only to see they weren’t the pair of shoes you thought existed, but clearly didn’t. When you came stomping back down the hall with a heavy pout and furrowed brow, giving the boots which matched the description you gave with disdain.

“You were right.” Your tone was short and sad.

“Yeah.. is that upsetting you?” Luke asked, eyebrows scrunching together.

“It is. It shouldn’t but it is.” You spoke in an incredulous tone. Moving back over to the bench, fingers toying with the plastic covering the bread loaf. You felt as if you wanted to yell, cry and scream all at the same time. Darn mood swings.

Luke just laughed, a rich hearty sound that made your knees wobble as you screwed open the jam jar, placing the raisin toast into the toaster, waiting and ruffling through different packets of chips in the snack drawer picking out two and throwing them in Luke’s direction.

“What flavours do you want?” You asked, still swatting your way through the chip drawer.

“I’m not going to be hungry. I ate before remember?” Luke looked up from his phone.

“Okay the-“ you cut yourself off as the toaster popped up, bringing the raisin toast with it. You grabbed the toast out, flinging it onto the bench after realising it was too hot to just hold onto.

Smearing the butter and jam onto the slices of toast, shoving one into your mouth holding it in your teeth as you turned and placed the bread and condiments back into the fridge. After taking a solid, hearty bite of the toast you placed it back onto the bench, not minding the crumbs that dropped off it. You grabbed the boots from where they sat next to the kitchen island counter and slipped your feet into them, the black tights you were wearing to battle the brisk september air aiding in your pursuit.

"Are you ready to go?" Luke looked up as you asked him this, stretching his none injured arm out, then slotting his phone into his back pocket.

"Whenever you are!" He replied enthusiastically, standing up and holding his hand out for you. He watched as you grabbed your purse, still holding your piece of toast trying not to let the jam dribble down your hand. Luke held the front door open as you stepped out and followed the path to where the car was parked in the driveway. You pressed down on the key fob to unlock the door so you could slide into the driver seat while Luke situated himself in the passenger seat, awkwardly reach across his body to pull the seat belt over and click it into place.

Mirroring Luke, albeit with more ease you strapped yourself in before pulling backwards out of the driveway, checking both ways for traffic. Heading to the stop sign at the end of the street, pulling away from the suburban area and driving away from the city after taking an entry onto the highway to go south. Luke had taken care of the music, connecting his phone to the car via aux cord and playing the majority of his songs, with your input for a song here and there.

"Play that Garth Brooks one.. the country one Jack really likes." you spoke, voice raised slightly to project over the song that was currently playing.

"Why would I play that?" Luke questioned back, his face skeptical.

"Because Callin' Baton Rouge is a fantastic song. Now play it." you responded, looking in the rearview mirror, checking the lanes next to you before merge into the exit turning lane, heading down a rural street where the sides of the road was lined with fences holding cattle in and big tall trees acting as a windbreak.

Even though he had absolutely no idea where the final destination was Luke was staring to catch on that it might have something to do with a field, something very nature-y. He was right, or by the fact that you pulled up next to a white toyota camry near the entrance gate to a field which was bordered with a small forest. Following you and getting out of the car, he watched as you ambled over, shook the young woman's hand.

"Luke, this is Kelly. She will be doing our photos this year." Y/N introduced the photographer, it was obvious that she wasn't a random due to the high quality canon camera she was cradling in one arm.

"Pleasure to meet you." Luke exchanged pleasantries with the woman before the little group of three set off into the field, heading towards the treeline. There was a dirt track that Luke could hear led down toward a creek, he could see why you had told him not to wear his good white shoes, there was a certain chance his shoes would be getting a little dirty.

With all credit to you, he had to admit that the spot was absolutely stunning and he couldn't imagine a more perfect place for the photos. Particularly when the dense foliage thins out and he can see the beautiful architecture of some kind of ruined building. Nature had taken over, vines crawling all up the elegant arches which were bathed in late afternoon sun.

"This is beautiful darlin'" Luke murmured in your ear as he looked up from where he was perched on a rock, this was just one of the many positions and places Kelly had you too stand, sit, hug, kiss, smile or laugh for the photos. He already seemed elated at the fact the photoshoot was happening, he hadn't even gotten the news that was turning your stomach inside out with nerves. Or was it something else?

"Okay, Luke, can you turn and face the creek? I need Y/N behind you, and then you are going to turn around." Kelly asked, setting up for the final shot of the big moment. She winked at you as you pulled the little reel of photos out of your purse. Taking a deep calming breath as you stood behind him, holding the photos that represented your future with Luke, you hands were shaking but you stood. "Okay Luke. Turn around for me."

As Luke did you met his briefly before they locked onto the ultrasound photos you held for him to see. His beaming smile dropped into a gape as he looked at the photos dumbfounded, but it quickly returned as he opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words he so desperately wanted to say. Instead he scooped you into his arms, spinning you around as the camera clicked. Capturing this moment forever, allowing you to reflect on it and show it to family and friends.

"Your- Your seriously." Luke stammered, placing you down, cradling the side of your head as well as the side of your stomach.

"Yeah.. I am." you smiled back, matching his grin with one just as bright.

He pulled away turning away and pumping the air before shouting into the forest clearing. "I'm going to be a dad!"

Yes you are Luke Hughes, a damn great one.

[danikamariewrites]

Hi! I have a Cassian request. Could you a do request that's somewhat spoiler free? I'm about midway in acomaf( I know late to the game lol) I've got a good amount of fics reblogged but I've also been nervous to read them. Maybe reader is rhys's little sister and he made clear rule from day one that is inner circle isn't allowed to touch her. But reader Cass have been secretly dating and then their mating bond goes into effect so they can't necessarily hide it anymore. Maybe feyre is the only one that knows until then.

Secrets I Keep

Cassian x Rhys’s sister!reader

Notes: Cass is the best bat boy for the brother’s best friend’s trope! I know you asked this a while ago so I need to know if you’ve finished yet, ACOMAF is one of my favorites.

Warnings:

Bidding Feyre goodnight you shut the door behind her. Letting out a sigh of relief and slumping against the door you look to the closet. When Feyre had come to your bedroom over an hour ago thats where you had stuffed your poor boyfriend. Stalking over to the closet you thanked the Mother that the newly turned fae female couldn’t pick up on Cassian’s scent.

Yanking the door open you immediately spot Cassian curled up, trying to hide behind your more formal gowns. His wings, unfortunately, gave the General away. As well as his long, muscular legs that he attempted to tuck close to his chest.

Stifling a laugh with an unconvincing throat clearing sound Cass pokes his head out from behind the layers of silk and tule. “You can come out now.” Cassian lets out a sigh, groaning as he stood from the tightness in his joints. You laugh at him, a teasing remark already forming in your mind.

Cass towers over you, giving you a playful smirk. “What are you laughing at, princess?” “Just an old man and his creaky joints.” He shakes his head at you, quickly grabbing you and flinging you over his shoulder, tickling your sides. Giggling like crazy you playfully demand he put you down. Cassian throws you on your bed, crawling over your body to press kisses all over your face.

Getting a weird feeling you notice a new source of light from the corner of your eye. Turning your head you see Feyre standing in your doorway, eyes wide and mouth open in shock at the sight before her. You hit Cassian’s chest to get him to stop. Noticing Feyre’s presence Cass turns to her.

Sitting up, your mouth opens and closes, at a loss for what to say. “Don’t tell Rhys!” You blurt out. Feyre nods, slowly backing out of your room, “I got your back, don’t worry.” She says with a smirk.

——

It’s been over a month since Feyre was last in the Night Court. Now that she’s a permanent resident you’ve been helping her adjust to life here and working for your brother.

Today you decided to make a rare appearance before noon, joining the group for training early.

You stayed off to the side for a bit, watching Feyre spar with Cassian. You noticed some of Cassian’s signature moves as they fought. Smiling to yourself you remember when Cass started training you.

Yeah, you’d had some training but your father didn’t want you near Illyrian. Especially because of your wings. You had inherited the same ability as Rhys - being able to call your wings on command - but you also had a fear that one day you might be forced to show them in the camps. And nothing good could come from that.

When the boys came home from the first war Cassian took it upon himself to make sure you were a warrior. Rhys had told both Azriel and Cass you were not in the dating pool. But the sparks flew during your training and you couldn’t stay away. Your relationship finally started a year ago. Ever since you’ve been in a state of bliss, blindly in love for the first time in your life.

Rhys landed, his wings beating loudly, commanding attention. You roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Hello Feyre darling. Are you ready for another lesson?” He holds out a hand for her to take, his wings disappearing in that familiar dark mist. You had missed seeing his magic. You missed him.

Feyre nodded, taking his hand, leaving you and Cassian alone. As they walked past Feyre sent you a subtle wink you prayed Rhys didn’t catch.

As you and Cass sparred you grabbed you around the waist, bringing you to the ground. You fought against his bulky frame, trying to get leverage to flip him. “Give up yet, princess? You look like you’re running out of steam.”

“You wish idiot!” you retort, still struggling. Cassian laughs, “Wow, idiot? That’s all you got today?”

You weakly punch at his thick thighs caging in your torso. “I’d think of something else, but a giant is cutting off the air supply to my brain.” Cassian laughed again as you continued to push at him. He wasn’t really crushing you, but good gods your boyfriend is an immovable mountain.

Cassian went ridged above you. Noticing the tension in his muscles you stop, gazing up at him with a worried look. “Cass? What’s wrong?” You ask softly. His gaze seemed far away, distracted. His jaw unhinged in shock. You slide out from under him to stand in front of him. Holding his face in your hands you tilt it so he’s looking up at you.

“Cassian, you’re freaking me out. What is wrong?” You shake him a little to snap him back into himself. Cassian grabbed your wrists, pressing kisses across your knuckles then your palms. “It-the bond. It snapped, for you.”

Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Your jaw dropping to match Cassian’s shock. Seconds later you feel that warm, golden thread hum to life in your chest, wrapping snugly around your heart. You fling your arms around Cassian’s neck, pushing closer to his body, trying to be one with your mate.

Cassian’s tears fall against your cheek. You move to pull away from him but Cass holds on to you tighter. “Why are you crying baby?” You coo. “This is just-this is the happiest day of my life.” He whispered.

You squeeze him tighter, turning to press a kiss against his cheek. Feeling unsatisfied with that small show of affection Cass threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you to face him, pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

Breaking away for air you rest your forehead against his, both letting out breathless laughs. “I love you.” He says, pressing his lips to yours again. This one quicker and rushed, like he can’t get enough of you. “I love you more, Cass.”

[saltpepperbeard]

OBLIGATORY COMPLETE OFMD SEASON 2 TEASER THOUGHTS AND SPECULATION POST™

Okay, to start off, I cannot BELIEVE we got this. I cannot BELIEVE we got a voiceover of Stede's note to Ed. We were all thinking it. We were all hoping for it. I CANNOT BELIEVE WE LEGITIMATELY GOT TO SEE AND HEAR HIS LOVE RIGHT OFF THE BAT. HE LOVES HIS ED SO SO MUCH.

Followed by this shot right as Stede is narrating. It's difficult to tell, but it seems like Ed??? The one-armed jacket and the fact that it's layered with Stede's narration makes me quite certain it's him. But ALONE??? AND COMING OUT OF THE SURF??? (There's a shot later that has me PARTICULARLY raising eyebrows at this moment. I'm thinking that he fell off the boat/was lost in that one storm shown later, and Stede of course is going to dive in after him or attempt to get to him in some sort of dramatic way. Which makes me think he and Stede are going to potentially talk feelings/reconcile on the beach)

And the fight choreography of this. Are you actually kidding me right now. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. GETTING TO SEE ED ABSOLUTELY KICKING ASS IN COMBAT??? NEVER IN A THOUSAND YEARS DID I EXPECT TO SEE A SHOT LIKE THIS BUT I'M HOLLERING SO HARD OVER IT (NOT TO MENTION, AGAIN, LOOKING AT THIS AND A LATER SHOT..........I'LL SCREAM ABOUT MY THOUGHTS WHEN SAID SHOT APPEARS HSKDLS)

Oh, they're PINING pining. They're YEARNING yearning. They're GAY gay.

They want to be back with each other so so so bad I'm losing my mind <3

"Fuck you, Stede Bonnet." The way he's JUST as dramatic as we were all thinking. The way he's hurting in a way WE ALL ANTICIPATED. LIKE, YOU HATE TO SEE IT, BUT MAN DSJKLDSSDKL. Also, the contrast of him saying that vs Stede's voice over is so so insane. The editors are INSANE FOR THAT ONE.

AGAIN, GOING BONKERS OVER ED'S CHARACTERIZATION BECAUSE HE SEEMS EXACTLY HOW I ANTICIPATED. Outwardly, angry, hardened, and cold. Inwardly, heartbroken, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to be back with Stede. Because hello, HELLO, HE'S NOTCHED WHAT I ASSUME TO BE HIS NUMBER OF DAYS WITHOUT STEDE IN THE WALL??????

HI OLU HELLO OLU MY DEAR DARLING OLU

but also screaming and crying and throwing up because this is ALSO what i was anticipating/hoping for. the crew being like "ummmmm lmao captain?? you really think you've got this under control???"

"You think Blackbeard's going to murder you?" I THINK NOT BECAUSE WHAT IS HE EVEN SHOOTING AT JSLDKS. OFF TO THE SIDE??? A WARNING SHOT????? Also the lighting of this and his look matches the ending shot so I'm very eyes emoji at this entire thing.

HOWEVER...

"MURDERER THRICE OVER?????????????"

Like sorry, that sign won't stop me because I can't read. Look at him. LOOK at him. You're telling me he stole the wedding cake toppers so he could PAINT HIMSELF ON THE BRIDE??? SO HE COULD MAKE HIMSELF INTO THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE HE WANTS TO BE????? SO THAT HE COULD PLAY PRETEND MARRIAGE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND STEDE???????

INSANE!!!

INSANE FOR THIS!!!!!!

Again, bonkers editing. The split screen. The CONTRAST between Stede's hopefulness and Ed's depression. The WAY THEY LINED IT UP TO MAKE ED LOOK LIKE HE'S TAKING AIM AT STEDE. THE WAY THIS PROBABLY PERFECTLY ENCAPSULATES THEIR CHARACTERIZATION IN THE FIRST FEW EPISODES HSDJKLSDS LIKE BITING THE EDITORS BITING THEM BITING THEM

ALSO ED AND ALL OF HIS GUNS,,, NINE GUNS???????

It kills me because he's probably being exactly what he thinks people see him as. He's probably like "Oh, you want a monster? I'll give you a monster."

WHICH,,,, NO, HONEY. YOU'RE A SWEETHEART, SORRY ABOUT IT.

AND THEN LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT OUR DARLINGS!!! FANG'S FUCKING SPIKES ARE SO METAL. FRENCHIE'S WOLVERINE COSPLAY SHDJKLSHDLKS. JIM!!! JIM JIM MY BELOVED JIM, AND THEIR PAINTED BEARD. THEIR GENDER!!!!!!!

Honey hsdksjds the drama of it all. THE DRAMA. CRASHING WEDDINGS TO DISRUPT LOVE BECAUSE YOUR OWN WAS DISRUPTED??? SIIIIIIRRRR THE THEATRICS, THE SPICE OF IT ALL

excuse me ma'am that is a gay man shdkjshkls THAT IS A GAY MAN. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING,,,

kiss me instead like wtf

OKAY NOW THIS,,,

THIS.

PRESIDENTIAL ALERT: THE BABYGIRL IS FIGHHHTTTTIIIING

BUT IZZY WATCHING ON??? IZZY????????????

I have Genuine Thoughts™ about this. I have a feeling that the big arc/character development Con mentioned might pertain to him like, REALIZING what's important, and what Ed actually wants and needs. And a good chunk of that will be him realizing the consequences of his actions, and maybe potentially wanting to undo the damage. And also, in his Bitchy Izzy Ways™, he might also get very very tired of Ed's sulking/theatrics and want to rectify things for that reason too.

So I feel like he's going to sort of team up with Stede and show him the ropes for that reason?? So they ALL can work towards betterment???

WHICH IS NUTS LMAO. NEVER EVER EXPECTED THAT.

REGARDLESS, GO STEDE BABY GO!!!

HI REVENGE HELLO REVENGE PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING DRASTIC LIKE EXPLODE OR ANYTHING PLEASE BABYGIRL <3

yeah yeah the titties we've all seen them.

BUT AGAIN, AGAIN, STEDE OFF TO THE SIDE. STEDE WATCHING. STEDE LEARNING THE ROPES FROM THE MOST UNEXPECTED PERSON EVER SHDJKSDS LIKE WHAT!!!

AND HEEEEEEERE WE GO. HERE'S THE SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER.

THE SAME BLACK SAND BEACH. FIGHTING THE BRITISH. ED AND STEDE. ED WITHOUT HIS MAKEUP ON. STEDE IN A DIFFERENT OUTFIT.

ARE THEY BOTH,,, FIGHTING TO GET TO EACH OTHER??? FIGHTING THROUGH CROWDS AND ENEMIES TO GET TO EACH OTHER'S SIDES???????

WHAT IF THEY FIGHT TO EACH OTHER AND THEN KISS HUH???

WHAT THEN.

HIIIIIIYYYAAAA JACKIE <33333

ALSO HELLO IS THAT THE SWEDE BEHIND HER???????

EXPLOSIONS FIRE EXPLOSIONS EXPLOSIONS FEELING VERY WEE JOHN CODED RIGHT NOW!!!!!!

AND THIS IS YET ANOTHER SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER,,,

LIKE UHHHHHHHHHHHHH

WITH ED ON THE BEACH, AND THIS SHOT OF SOMEONE FALLING INTO THE WATER,,,,,,

I HAVE A FEELING THAT ED IS GOING TO DO SOMETHING THAT ENDS WITH HIM FALLING OFF THE BOAT. MAYBE HE TRIES TO SAVE SOMEONE???

if he fights to save stede from going overboard or something equivalent i'm going to eat all the tiles off my floor <3

LIKE IT'S BAD BESTIES. IT'S BAD. IT'S DIRE. THE WATER IS SO FUCKING HIGH AND THEY'RE IN A STORM AND JIM IS SCREAMING AND I AM ALSO SCREAMING!!!

But then also, LOOK AT FUCKING WEE JOHN!!! IN DRAG!!! HE'S A FUCKING MERMAID!!! JIM ISN'T A MERMAID???? WELL, THAT'S FINE--WEE JOHN IS!!! LIVING HIS BEST FUCKING LIFE!!!!! AND WHAT IF HE MADE THAT COSTUME HIMSELF SJDKSDJLS <3

AND THE FINAL SHOT I'M CHOOSING, THE FINAL ONE OF THE SET,,, MATCHES UP WITH THAT LIGHTING EARLIER.

WHO ARE WE FIGHTING, ED BABE. WHAT'S THE TEA. WHO ARE YOU CLOBBERING.

IS IT US?

IT'S PROBABLY US.

BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE THING HAS ME SO SO SO DEAD Y'ALL

[nvuy]

hi! back with my bullshit. i've been feral about jing yuan lately, AGAIN. this man never leaves the crevices of my barely-wrinkled brain. this time, i'm thinking about sparring with him... you're both grinning and out of breath and you swear jing yuan is trying to rile you up even more with his constant grabbing you whenever he can. and then you end up pinned under him, with his big hands squeezing every piece of your skin he can like he's trying to tear you apart.. oh i'm drooling

punching bag — jing yuan

summary. you regret day in and day out that you asked general jing yuan to help you work on your swordsmanship, and it doesn’t help that he barely takes it seriously.

notes. hi mords my little goober this is for u. also for anyone that likes jing yuan. and praise. and ummm. sweaty sword fighting and making out. i guess.

warnings. minor innuendos. you can tell how i feel about jing yuan just by this piece alone.

“Stick it, old man.” Your sword blocks his, and you gasp in triumph. His blade is inches from your throat, but your own keeps it in place.

It is heavy, though. You geniunely wonder how he’s able to even fight with something that can crack a tree log in two faster than an axe can.

You pant in exasperation, and you almost choke on your spit with excitement. Though you feel as though to your face is on fire and your hair is matted with sweat, the smile on your face is golden.

General Jing Yuan grins. His teeth flash. “Well done.”

You pull back the weapon after a moment, exhausted as you swallow thickly. There’s adrenaline coursing through your veins, and your heart is pumping so sporadically you’re sure it’s about to escape from your throat.

Then, you do it again, and again, and again, and again, and your triumph slowly moulds into something worse. You feel utterly pathetic, being able to fend off the General of the Luofu as if it’s like spreading butter on bread.

To that, you lower your weapon after what seems like hours, but was only a few minutes. “Are you even trying?”

Jing Yuan teases you with a taut smile. “Why would you think otherwise? What if you’ve just dramatically improved?”

You scrunch your face up at that.

His eyes light up with mischief before he raises his weapon. “Come. Again.”

Hesitantly, you draw your blade once more. It’s the same cut as his, you’re sure, for a more even match. It’s hardly ‘even’ though, when one wrong move will have his weapon cracking yours into two. And you feel it every time you manage to stop him.

You clear your throat and stumble back for a moment. Maybe a second of pep talk and talking down to yourself. That usually works

Jing Yuan yawns when you take too long. He’s not even looking at you; rather, he’s busy observing his weapon for any impurities on the blade.

That sets you off.

Your face burns with fury and you reel your fist backwards until it flies at his stupid, dumb, handsome face.

He catches your knuckles easily with his palm. “Someone’s growing claws,” he whispers. He taps you lightly on the leg with his blade. “I am teaching you the way of the blade, first and foremost, before hand-to-hand combat.”

“Scared I’ll land a punch, old man?” you spit, trying to swipe at his face again.

“Terrified,” he responds. “Now. Shoulders back. Again.”

You huff.

Again.

He blocks.

He dodges.

You curse at him at first. He only replies with a fond chuckle.

Then, you stumble, over and over again. He manages to trip you with his foot about ten times. On the eleventh attempt, you stop his attack with a stomp on his blade, but he simply pulls it out from underneath you.

You pull the blade forward and try to slice his face in half. His weapon stops yours almost too easily.

You grow frustrated and almost throw your weapon to the floor in defeat.

“Start trying a little less?” you ask him through bated breaths.

“Having a rough time?” he teases before simply side stepping your next manoeuvre with his eyes shut, before one gentle shove of his finger against your back as you stumbling right to the floor. “Again. You aren’t balanced.”

You try to stand up, but your legs give out, and you crumble to your knees again. He’s not even holding you against the floor, and embarrassment flares in your stomach.

You try fanning at your face with your hands. The afternoon sun is beating down hot and hard, and you’re clearly not the only one struggling. Jing Yuan busies himself untying his hair to retire it since it has come loose and has begun sticking to his face.

You swallow distastefully as you stare up at him from the floor.

He straightens the ribbon in his hair and shakes out the sweat thats beginning to matt in his roots.

You’re too busy admiring his arms to give a shit about what he’s saying, considering his lips are moving. His stupidly big fucking arms. That you want him to squash you with until you can’t feel your face. And can’t breathe.

“Is that all you can take?” he hums. His palms must be sweating as he readjusts the fingerless gloves he’s wearing. He breathes out once, evenly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you huff and manage to stand to your feet. “Some people aren’t immortal beings with ridiculous spouts of stamina.”

“The stamina comes from training,” he reminds. He’s retrieved your weapon, and he holds it out to you. “And discipline.”

Whatever. Begrudgingly, you snatch it from his hand and raise it.

“Imagine as if this is a fight to the death,” is all he tells you.

And you try. You really do try.

It’s almost as if he grows extra limbs when the time calls for it. Just when you believe both his hands are busy and you find an opening, he suddenly grows a third leg, or an extra finger, or something, and he’s magically stopped your next move. He can predict your every move; he can read every time you’re thrown off guard or you’re distracted or your foot stance is off. He doesn’t so much throw you to the floor, but rather allows gravity to do the work for him.

He does ensure you have a soft landing, however. So, you suppose he can play nice sometimes — that, and the last time he offered to be your punching bag, you’d ended up hitting your head so hard on the ground that you were stuck in the hospital for three days with a horrible concussion.

“Feeling any better?” he asked curiously a few hours after you’d been admitted. He’d been kind enough to visit your little room and was busy poking at a small teddy bear one of your friends had gifted you, alongside three cards and a bouquet of flowers.

That… he’d given you. Well, you think he did, because you don’t remember seeing them before he showed up. You were too miserable to really ask about it, though, so you kept your mouth shut.

“No,” you mumbled. “I feel like… shit.”

He hums sympathetically.

“I apologise again,” Jing Yuan said softly, slotting next to you on the bed and resting a hand on your arm. “If you need me for anything, do let me know.”

You take a deep breath to try and settle your queasy stomach.

“Yeah,” you slurred. Watching him is hard work as it is; you’re already dizzy and nauseous and you were growing antsy and worried that you’d need to puke again. Negative points if the General had to witness it. “Fuckin’ catch me next time.”

He grinned and lightly pinched your cheek, much to your chagrin. “Yes, General.”

You almost fly to the floor again, and Jing Yuan grabs at your hips and straightens you quickly.

You murmur, “I’m not gonna die if I fall.” Your face is hot with blood and you try to turn away from him to hide it.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.” He’s even dusting off your shoulders and slicking back the short hairs stuck to your forehead. “You’re a fragile thing. I’d hate to see you get hurt again.”

You try and throw another punch.

He clicks his tongue when you almost crash your nose into his chest plate. And you’ve done that before — and Aeons, that hurt, too.

Miserably, you drop your sword and it clatters to the ground with a terrible noise.

You raise your arms up and thwack him in the chest lightly.

He hums. “Have I told you your arms look better?” He reaches and squeezes at one of your biceps. “Much better.” He looks content, and there’s a coy smile at his lips.

Your face burns.

Your eyes are sparkling, but disdain curls over your tone. “You’re a riot, General. Do you flirt with everyone like this?”

“Maybe,” he responds quickly.

You step back and clear your throat as you retrieve your weapon. “Don’t make me jealous.”

He’s just simply dodging everything, and the flat side of his sword smashes against your stomach, neck, thighs, ribs, anywhere he can reach.

It doesn’t help with every soft land he hits on you, he follows it up with a quick, “dead.”

He taps your ankle at one point and does it again. Your teeth grit and you try to slice his hand clean off.

He easily removes himself.

“I can’t block every angle,” you defend as he straightens up. “How can I block my face and my feet at the same time?”

“By foot stance,” he chimes in lightly. “Here’s a tip: stand back. A sword as deft as this one—” He reaches forward and pinches the tip of the blade between his fingers, “—can be used decently at a distance. Don’t stand directly in front of me.” He presents his own weapon. You don’t even try to hold it up. “Because of its weight, you have a distance advantage over me. And, I have to work around it.”

You listen. You don’t want to, out of spite, but you do. You know he’s not purposefully making you feel useless; he’s told you many times he thinks your skills are impressive. He’s more so attempting to rile you up.

And it’s working.

You’re too busy admiring his biceps to care. “Nice arms.”

He displays a boyish grin just for you. “Thank you.” Then, he readjusts his grip on the hilt. “If you weren’t so busy ogling, you’d have an opening.”

“I play nice, General,” you remind him. “I’m not going to cheat.”

“If you say so,” he taunts.

And then, he lunges for you.

General Jing Yuan hasn’t once initiated a fight on his hand, and it nearly takes you off guard. It’s been a back and forth of you trying to land a clean hit, and him easily avoiding your shots.

You just about manage to hold him off when you almost trip backwards. You regain your footing and nerves wrack up your spine. He swings again. He barely misses your neck when your sword clashes with his blade.

“Good,” he murmurs. “You’re learning.”

“Ooh,” you whisper. “I love it when you stroke my ego.”

“I know.” He tries again, this time reeling back and switching the blade to his left hand to try and catch you off guard. You block that one, too.

You giggle like an idiot.

Then, you shove him backwards with your sword and go for a swipe at his nose.

It doesn’t exactly go the way you planned. Not on your part. Jing Yuan praised you afterwards for the execution, but this is the General of the Luofu, and if he wanted to win, he would win. At any cost.

He trips you over just as easily as he had the other eleven times. Your hands instinctively fly out towards the ground to cushion your fall, but you don’t quite make it all the way into the grass this time.

He catches you again, this time in some makeshift position as if you’d been dancing instead of trying to literally kill him, but he does keep your head from smashing into the floor again. You can feel the headache forming just thinking about it.

Jing Yuan knocks the sword from your hand and it falls by your feet.

“I was having fun,” you whine lowly to him. “You always spoil everything.”

There’s exhilaration there, and you feel it surge in your heart, hot and heavy. You’re excited, somewhat. The adrenaline pumps through your veins, and your skin is so warm and light you feel as though you could pop at any moment.

It doesn’t help your case that the general is so close to you, and has a smile so wide you’re worried his face will split into two.

You admire him for a moment too long.

A moment so long that his grin grows impossibly wider, and mischief flares in his eyes.

His grip loosens.

Your heart drops to your stomach.

You scrabble in a panic and your arms swing around his shoulders.

He holds you again with a snicker.

“You win,” you declare finally. “I’m going home.”

“Sure.” He doesn’t move. “If you can free yourself, that is.”

You barely try to wriggle from his grasp before sighing. “C’mon. I’m tired.” His grip doesn’t even loosen his hold in the slightest. “We can do this tomorrow.”

“This is your last test,” he announces, somewhat dramatically. “Imagine that this is your final moment to choose between life and death.” With one hand still encircling your waist, the other lets go reach downward just enough to retrieve your sword. “There is very little you can do.”

The sword gently taps against your sternum, angled just enough for the tip to barely threaten a carving into your chest.

You claw at his arms, but he doesn’t budge. Your back strains with the position he holds you in, and your legs barely have enough leverage to keep you standing.

You are quite literally at his mercy.

And again, your footwork is off.

You grunt when he leans in close. Way too close for comfort. You feel somewhat like a caged animal, and you’re sure you look the part.

“There are decisions you can make, however,” he chides. “Five seconds. Think.”

You glance down at your weapon pointed at your chest. You hesitantly unwrap your arms from around his neck and try and grab at it.

In the time it’s taken you to muster the courage to let go of him, his grip loosens around your waist again. Your heart drops and you quickly curl your arms around his shoulders again.

“Too slow,” is all he remarks. “Four.”

You make a desperate attempt at wriggling from his grasp, but he only chuckles at your futility.

“Three.”

You almost give up. “This is dumb.”

“Two.”

You narrow your eyes at him. The worst idea springs to mind, and for the final second, you second-guess yourself.

“One–”

Your hands shift from his arms to his cheeks, and you draw him as close as you could before you strained your neck upwards.

Your lips press against his in a last ditch effort as a distraction, and for a moment, you believe it doesn’t work. He completely freezes up and stiffens in your grasp like a corpse.

The sword still presses to your chest, and you find it uncomfortable to inhale for a moment. It feels as though one wrong move will send the sharpened blade driving forth into your skin.

And then, he drops the weapon in favour of slotting his hand behind your head and keeping you on him. The sound of metal hitting the floor rings distantly in your ears.

His lips are coated in sweat, and you taste salt and oranges. The scent is addicting enough, oddly, and you sigh into his mouth with relief.

His hand wanders. Not dangerously, but enough to keep you alert. It slides from your hair to your throat, and it remains against your jugular for a good long while. His thumb then flutters to the notch and keeps you still and placated.

Then, he rubs gently at your sternum, as if in apology. You pay it no mind. Your hands are still, save for the gentle stroke at the nape of his neck.

He’s teasing you, you figure out, even when he’s all wrapped around your finger like the ribbon in his hair. He pulls away constantly to see if you’ll give chase, and of course you do.

You’d feel almost pathetic if he wasn’t eagerly returning the kiss like an idiot.

He then pulls away. Much too quickly for your liking.

You frown and try to tug at his hair to bring him on your tongue.

Jing Yuan presses his fingers to your lips. “I thought you said you played nice?”

“Whatever, handsome,” you mumble. You reach upwards and tussle his already messy hair.

His lips are red with spit. Your spit. You did that. Gross.

Your heart flutters and you giggle.

“That would’ve been a good time to throw a punch,” he says after a moment.

You think about it. Then, you reel your fist back and aim at his face. “Sure.”

His other arm holds strong wrapped around your waist when he catches your wrist. Instead, he places soft kisses along your knuckles.

Something hot bubbles in your stomach. Easy.

“Will you kiss every opponent that bests you like that?” Jing Yuan asks quietly, a sneaking grin growing on his reddened lips.

You hum softly and cup his face gently. “Maybe.”

He scoffs lightly. “Don’t make me jealous.”

[lilacxquartz]

JJK x Reader: What they would do for your birthday

included: satoru gojo, suguru geto & kento nanami

tags/themes: drabbles, fluff, comfort — up to 500 words each!

ao3 link • masterlist • mdni

Satoru Gojo

You woke up in what felt like the very early into the day with a slightly alarmed sixth sense going haywire in your mind, and as you came to, you quickly realised why.

A pair of intense blue eyes hovered over you; wide, focused and almost erratic. You should have known that it was just your boyfriend.

“Happy birthday!” he eagerly announced, his energy high despite your own still being quite low. Your eyes rolled over to the alarm clock, finding that it was just barely six in the morning.

Your lips twitched into a smile as you couldn’t help but find his determined enthusiasm at least somewhat endearing. “Thanks, but why are you up so early?”

“Because,” he continued to almost jitter, his body shaking from intense excitement, “I couldn’t wait with my perfect gift for you.”

You yawned, propping yourself up to your elbows before blinking at him. “D-dare I ask?”

Satoru’s smile widened as you focused on him intently now—just as planned! Clearing his throat, he however thought more about it and started to get cold feet, his voice suddenly seeming less than confident, “…You won’t laugh will you?”

“I can’t make any promises but for you I’ll do my best,” you replied.

Satoru’s confidence quickly rebounded within an instant and he produced a small velvet blue box from behind his back. He dramatically presented it to you, pushing it right up to your face.

“For you…” he continued to say, his gestures exaggerated.

Almost cautiously, you propped the lid of the box open, revealing a… glass sphere. You stared at it for a moment, trying to retain your politeness, knowing that there must have been something special about it because Satoru was oddly serious when it came to gifts. However try as you might, you couldn’t find a single logical explanation. Maybe you were just too tired.

You held it up to inspect it further in an attempt to decipher the gift, finding that when the light hit it just right, the glass sphere filled with a beautiful ethereal glow, filling up with an almost deep blue colour.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Satoru asked you, pleased to find that you have figured out how to see its true potential. “It’s called a sapphire nebula and when held up to the light, it can represent my beautiful blue eyes and in a darker room with the right conditions applied, to even represent something close to an infinite void in appearance.”

You blinked, nodding slowly. It was a beautiful piece, but you couldn’t help but think of one thing in particular. “So my gift is something that reminds me of you?”

“Of course…!” he smiled, but something about his tone of voice implied that there was more to his words.

“Thank you Satoru, it’s very pretty,” you replied, genuinely meaning it.

“Of course, I’m also going to take you out to a fully cleared out private table at that place you like,” he almost boasted in announcement, “…and there's this place that’s opened up recently where you can go design your own plushie, if you want to do that.”

“I’d love to,” you replied, “don’t worry, I’ll make mine resemble a mini you so it can guard that mysterious orb you gave me.”

He couldn’t help but smile in anticipation, “I can hardly wait.”

Suguru Geto

Upon waking up in the late morning, the first thing that you noticed was that Suguru was still in bed with you despite it creeping closer and closer to midday. In a flash, you were up in an instant, nudging at him in an attempt to somehow wake him up.

While you succeeded, he simply responded by pulling you down, reeling you closer into his chest in a claiming hug.

“Suguru…” you replied, your words slightly muffled as you spoke into his skin, “you’re gonna be late—“

“—don’t worry,” he soothed you, “I’ve cleared my schedule for today and the girls are with a trusted sitter. I’d rather spend my day with you on your birthday than have you spend it alone.”

You blinked in surprise, suddenly relaxing against him and pulling your head back. Oh, that’s right, it was your birthday. “A-ah, my birthday. Yes. I totally knew that was today.”

“You’re silly,” he laughed softly, pulling you closer back into his chest, “don’t worry about today, sleep in with me for a bit longer.”

Succumbing to sleep for about two hours longer, by the time you were both up, you were both fully and wide awake. Suguru quickly got dressed after a shower as you did too, finalising both of your efforts by helping his robe sit correctly on his shoulders.

“You’re so good to me,” he murmured, his voice raising in slight volume as he spoke, “that’s why I have prepared you something special.”

Still in the process of waking up, you wondered what this could possibly entail. You stared at him as he combed out the knots in his hair with his fingers before leading you off to the kitchen and dining area.

Taking a moment to prepare what he needed, he stepped away for a moment, only to come back with a small platter of neatly arranged desserts including anpan, daifuku and even manjū.

“Did you.. make these?” you asked, staring at the arrangement.

“Yes,” he replied calmly, “I remember you enjoying these especially, so I tried my hand at making you them.”

You tried one of them, your stomach already growling from the lack of breakfast. Taking a bite out of the daifuku first, the mochi feeling perfectly soft in your mouth and the filling tasting just as you’d like.

“And you made these?” you repeated, almost in surprise because of how good it all was.

Suguru hummed, seeming proud, “Yeah. I guess being an impromptu dad to the girls has made me good at this sort of thing. You know how they are about their sweet treats.”

“I’m very glad that I also get to be included in your efforts,” you said, taking another confection from the platter.

“Of course,” he said, patiently holding the tray that he prepared, feeling a little concerned that his efforts were being consumed at such a rapid pace but if you were happy, then he was happy, “anything for you. Happy birthday.”

Kento Nanami

Not too long after waking up alone in bed, you were met with the smell of coffee and something sweet and delicious wafting into the room. Albeit still groggy, you slowly got up and threw on something casual before descending down the hall and into the kitchen, following the scent.

In the kitchen, Kento was in the midst of finishing up a stack of pancakes before turning around to greet you. His hair was slightly tousled and despite wearing an apron, his clothes were stained from captions splatters and spills.

Before you could even reply, he sat you down at the breakfast table, sliding in a plate with the most perfect pancakes you had ever seen with some neatly cut fruit arranged on top. He then placed a cup of coffee in your hand and a vase of flowers as the final finishing piece in the middle of the table.

Taking a sip of coffee to wake yourself up, you then tried the pancakes. Before you could even speak, Kento said something first.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he smiled, sitting down at the table too. Seeming a little exhausted but his eyes seemed to relax as they settled on you.

“Thank you,” you replied, “this is so nice…”

“I wanted to make sure that your day started off just right,” Kento replied, taking off the apron and rolling up his sleeves.

“You succeeded,” you commented, “this also tastes incredible.”

“Yeah? I’m glad. I’ll tell you what, if you get dressed after, we can go pick up a pastry we both like from that bakery we found a week ago,” he added, “and then anything you want. I made sure that the entire place is spotless, so you have nothing to worry about today.”

Finally fully awake, you couldn’t help but succumb to the widest possible smile. “You’re incredible, I’d love all of that.”

“Then that can be arranged,” he replied, leaning in to straighten out the flowers in the vase, “as long as you’re happy, then that’s the best thanks in the world.”

<<< more birthday drabbles (villain edition)

[lupinsversion]

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧 - 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

• request: i would like something where reader is one or two years younger than the marauders and has a major crush on remus but she never thought he would like her back because she is younger. i think she’s friends with the girls maybe and she just had some little conversations with remus, nothing more. but then one of the girls can tell the reader likes remus and reader kind of ignores remus so he says like ‘why are you ignoring me’ and he declares himself to her by @oliveolivia

• a/n: ahh i love this! i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it :))

• contains: remus lupin x fem reader, fluff

• word count: 2.1k

masterlist || requests

She was standing with Lily and Marlene in an empty corridor between classes, chatting about anything and everything when the conversation turned on her.

Marlene grinned as she suddenly poked her friend in the side, a light jab. “Have you told Remus how you feel about him yet?” She asked with an all too knowing tone.

Her eyes widen, glancing around in alarm to make sure no one overheard. Once she was sure that she was fine, she turned back to the blonde and spoke in a hushed tone. “You know I can’t do that!”

The other two girls shared a look with one another at her response, grins wide on their faces. Lily put a hand on her arm, a reassuring gesture. “I think you should.”

Marlene added on right after. “It’s been months since you first started talking about him. At this rate you’ll never be able to tell him.”

As alarmed as ever, she responded. “I’m two years younger than him. Two!”

The girls laughed at their friend’s minor outburst, Lily speaking up again shortly after. “That doesn’t matter. Two years is not that big of a difference.”

Marlene nodded in agreement. “We’ve seen the way his eyes linger on you when you’re not looking.”

“That is…” She shook her head quickly, waving off the girls dramatically. “Not true.”

Lily and Marlene shared another look with one another, not buying their friend’s denial. Lily raised her eyebrows as she spoke. “It is. You don’t notice him watching you, but I do.”

Marlene couldn’t help but to chime in once again. “Even the other Marauders have begun to notice. He’s always more attentive around you.”

She pressed her lips together. “I don’t want to hear anything about my… possible feelings until…” She turned to Lily, “you finally give into James.” She then turned to Marlene, “and until you grow the tits to kiss Dorcas.”

Both girls turned red at her words, not daring to glance at one another. This time, it was Marlene who spoke up first. “Low blow..”

After a moment, Lily shook her head before adding on. “You’re only doing this to change the subject!”

She smiled. “All is fair in this game.”

Lily shook her head, a bit of an annoyed expression on her face. She knew her friend had changed the subject to get out of discussing her feelings for a certain boy. “Ugh, you can only deflect for so long.”

Over the course of the next few days, she had avoided Remus with all of her might, Lily and Marlene’s words repeating in her head like a loop.

She tried and almost succeeded in convincing herself it was better to keep quiet. To believe that two years was some huge age gap that she couldn’t allow. But that all came crumbling when Remus managed to corner her.

It seemed like no matter where she went, Remus would always find her within the castle.

He had noticed her attempts to avoid him. It made him frown. Not only because he felt hurt that she seemed to be trying to evade him, but also because he missed her company. So, he finally had enough and searched high and low until he found her within the library.

She was sitting hunched over studying when he finally found her. He stood in the aisle behind her, silently taking in the sight of her. He hadn’t realized how much he missed her until this moment. He watched her for a minute longer before finally stepping closer, speaking up to catch her attention. “Hey, can we talk?”

She jumped slightly in her seat, not expecting to be disturbed. She glanced up at him, silently telling herself that it wasn’t him. But when her eyes fell upon his face, she took a deep breath. All she could do was nod.

A small, amused smile tugged at his lips as she jumped in surprise, her reaction making his heart skip a beat. The look on her face was one of worry and it made his heart clench. He took a seat next to her, angling his body to face her.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He immediately questioned, getting straight the point. He figured there was no reason to beat around the bush.

Her lips turned to a frown. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” She denied quickly.

He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced by her denial. “You have. Every time I try to talk to you, you disappear.” He spoke as he leaned back into his chair a bit, studying her face for some sort of clue.

He continued to watch her, his gaze lingering on her face. He took in every feature of hers, each freckle, every curve of her mouth, her eyes and the way they looked anywhere but him. He found himself unable to look away as he spoke again, his voice low and a hint of something was hidden within his tone. “I didn’t realize I made you so uncomfortable.”

“You don’t make me uncomfortable.” She sat up quickly, his statement catching her off guard as she turned her body to face him.

His eyes widened a bit at her sudden reaction. Her words surprised him and he felt a small rush of relief. That was good, right? But he couldn’t just let it go at that. “Then, why are you avoiding me?” He questioned, his tone more gentle.

She let out a small sigh in defeat. She knew she couldn’t avoid this, or him, any longer. “It’s just something Lily and Marlene said. It kind of… kept me in my own head these past few days.”

He found himself intrigued. He knew that the girls were always up to something. He leaned in closer to her, putting an arm on the back of her chair. “What did they say?” He asked quietly.

“What a gossip you are, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you. Girl code.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, giving a small roll of his eyes at her mention of girl code. He leaned in further, his hand on the back of her chair slowly moving to play with the ends of her hair that fell over it. “I’m sure you can break the rules this once, couldn’t you?” He tried to push, a small smile on his face.

“Nope.” She shook her head slightly. “You don’t break girl code. Ever.”

Another small chuckle escaped him, her words only making him more curious as to what the girls were discussing. He found himself enjoying the conversation between them. It was the most they had talked in days and he realized he missed being able to spend any time with her. He continued, his fingers still playing with the end of her hair absentmindedly. “C’mon, give me a clue at least.”

“It was silly. Just assumptions.” She waved it off. “Not a big deal.”

He could tell that whatever it was, it wasn’t something she considered small. He took her chin between his fingers, gently tilting her head up so she was facing him, getting a better look at her features up close. “If it’s not a big deal, then tell me. I can keep a secret, you know that.” He spoke, his tone bordering onto on the more flirty side as he leaned in a bit closer.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she wanted to cast a curse on herself for the way that her cheeks heated up under his hold.

He was secretly enjoying the way that she became flustered with only a second of his touch. She looked adorable, her cheeks tinged and her breath hitching ever so slightly. It only tempted him even further.

His hand that rested under her chin moved to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, before slowly trailing down to trace the pad of his fingers against her jawline in silence.

He hummed softly as his fingers continued their motion, slowly sliding down to the side of her neck closest to him, enjoying the soft skin beneath his rough fingers. He continued to study her face as he did so, watching as the red crept further across her face. After a moment, he spoke up, his voice low with a hint of teasing beneath the surface. “You’re blushing.”

“Hardly.” Her voice came out as a stupid stutter.

He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, continuing his motions with his fingers, moving down to the exposed skin of her collarbone as he watched her. “I think your face says otherwise.” He spoke lowly, his voice holding a bit of humor.

“Lily says that you watch me.” She blurted out, as if just staring into his brown eyes made her spill the smallest secrets. “Marlene thinks that you like me.”

His eyebrows raised slightly as her words blurted out. He hadn’t expected her to mention such a thing and it made him pause, freezing his movements. Her words caught him by surprise, and for a moment he struggled on finding a way to respond. His heart pounded as he finally found the words, nerves creeping into his system. “And what do you think..?”

“I don’t know…” She answered truthfully.

He gave a small nod, not taking his eyes off of her face. There was a beat of silence between them, her words echoing in his head, but it only lasted for so long.

“I think your friends might be right.”

She hated the way the butterflies started to swarm in her stomach, leaving a weird sensation to her body. She sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, nibbling on it slightly, nervously.

His gaze flickered down to her lips, watching their movements causing his own body to feel strangely warm. He felt a great mixture of emotions, none on which he wanted to name just yet. His fingers slowly ran back towards her chin, using his thumb to gently bring her bottom lip out from her teeth. “Don’t bite your lip like that.” His voice came out lower than before.

Her brows furrowed together, the smallest hint of confusion on her features.

“If you bite your lip like that, all I wanna do is bite it myself..” He explained without being asked, his voice only becoming deeper as many emotions swirled in his very blood.

Her lips parted slightly with a small gasp, and she could’ve sworn her stomach did a back flip. “Then do it…”

He found his breath hitching in his throat. He wasn’t expecting her to say such a thing, but he found himself enjoying it. “You have no idea how badly I want to do just that.” His heart raced in his chest, his heart full of nervousness and excitement. He moved his fingers, caressing her cheek softly.

He leaned in slightly closer, their faces now only inches apart. They could feel each other’s breaths. “If I do, I might not want to stop there..”

She gulped, staring deeply into his eyes for a moment. And then a small nod came from her, silently telling him that she wanted the same thing as he did.

He took the slowest deep breath as she nodded, out of relief and to even calm himself. Without wasting anymore time, he brought his lips to hers. The sensation of the kiss felt like a fire running through his body, making his heart pick up pace. His mind was spinning, all rational thoughts leaving as he found himself getting lost in the taste of her.

They were both completely lost in the feel of one another, their lips moving together in a perfect rhythm. His free hand wondered her waist, wanting to get closer, wanting to feel more of her. But the moment was cut off by a quiet hiss only a few feet away, causing them to suddenly remember where they were… the library.

They quickly broke apart to find Madam Pince standing a few feet away, glaring at them in disapproval and annoyance. Her face was stern, her voice hard as she spoke. “There will be no such behaviors in the library.” She hissed, placing her hands on her hips in irritation.

If it was possible, her face heated up more, but this time in horror at being caught in such an act, an out of character act of her own.

A quiet sigh left his lips, but still found himself suppressing a smirk as he noticed the girl’s reaction. She was a deeper shade of red, and he knew she was mortified. He tried his best to not let his laughter show. “Sorry, we’ll be leaving..”

Madam Pince huffed, clearly not pleased with the pair. "Out quickly. The library isn't a place for snogging."

He just nodded, grabbing the girl’s hand and pulling her out of the library with him quickly. Once they exited, he couldn’t keep the laughter quiet, letting a few chuckles escape into the almost empty corridor.

© lupinsversion 2024

[svtiddiess]

Curiosity Killed The Cat Gets You Laid?

Synopsis: It's Halloween night, and you're wandering through the woods you were always warned to stay far away from, searching for vampires. They say curiosity killed the cat, but no one mentioned it could also get you laid.

Pairing: vampire!Jeonghan x afab!reader x vampire!Wonwoo

Genre: suggestive, one shot, vampire! au, supernatural! au

Rating: suggestive/mature

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: blood, injuries, vampires, dry humping, lemme me know if I missed anything!

Note: Happy Halloween! This is my first attempt at a vampire fic so please be nice.

Thank you so much to Indi @wongyuseokie for the amazing banner! She ate for real.

Click here to join my taglist!

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

October 31st, Halloween, the one day you look forward to all year. In this small, sleepy town where nothing ever happens, Halloween is the rare time when everything feels alive. It's ironic, really, that a holiday meant to honour the dead and the supernatural is the only time the town truly comes to life.

Although plenty of celebrations and parties are happening around town, your mind is elsewhere: vampires. Rumours about the woods on the edge of town have been swirling for years. Some say it's home to secret gold mines; others claim there's a hidden graveyard for those who have sinned way beyond redemption, and many point to the string of murders that have occurred there. But what really grabs your attention is the rumour that vampires live there.

You've been told time and time again never to step foot into the woods, but hey, you can't stop curiosity now, can you? And that's why here you are on Halloween night, making your way through the woods you've been told to stay far away from. You chose tonight for this journey because Halloween is when vampires are supposedly most active—at least, that's what the internet said. You're really hoping it wasn't wrong.

The crunch of leaves and the distant hooting of owls greet you as you step into the woods. A chill runs down your spine as you take in your surroundings—the darkness wrapping around the trees gives the forest an eerie, foreboding feel. The shadows twist into strange shapes, making you glance over your shoulder and double-check your surroundings more often than usual.

You mentally curse yourself for not bringing a proper flashlight; your phone flashlight does the bare minimum to light the surroundings. After several minutes of walking, you stop in your tracks. You could swear you've passed this same tree four times already—or is it a different one? Damn, you might be lost.

'This might've been a stupid idea,' you think.

In too deep to back out now, you proceed to go further into the woods, a very bad idea, but your stubbornness overpowers your voice of reason a lot of the time. A sudden howl piercing through the sky stops you in your tracks. Wolves? No, that can't be. You must’ve misheard—it was probably just the wind, you tell yourself. But then, another howl echoes through the woods. Okay, wolves. Definitely wolves.

Quickening your pace, you decide to retrace your steps, hoping that will eventually lead you back to society. As you try to find your way out of the woods, you hear footsteps, multiple footsteps, heading toward you. Not wanting to risk a run-in with wolves, you take off running.

Unfortunately for you, you were never much of an athlete, so you end up tripping over a rock and falling, cutting your palm on the jagged ground. Cursing out loud, you pick yourself up and observe the cut; it was fairly deep, and blood continuously started to pour out of it, staining your hand. You frown and squeeze your hand, hoping to stop the blood from flowing.

Okay, now you definitely need to get out of the woods. If the wolves don’t get you, the inevitable infection from your wound will (though you’re being a bit dramatic). Frowning, you continue to head to where you think you came from.

Stumbling aimlessly through the eerie forest, you suddenly come upon a massive mansion. It looks like something straight out of the Victorian era, with towering spires, gothic architecture, and plenty of decay to match. Your small flashlight barely does it justice, making it hard to fully appreciate the mansion's haunting beauty.

Could this be it…? Remembering the whole reason you ventured into the woods, you head inside the mansion. You're determined to encounter at least one vampire tonight.

The heavy wooden doors groan as you push them open. You take a deep breath as you absorb the sight of the eerie mansion. Inside is a stark contrast to the exterior; it feels much more cohesive, with relatively recent furniture and a sense that the place isn’t falling apart.

The air stilled. It became quiet, too quiet. The only sound you can hear is the beating of your own heartbeat ringing in your ears. Gulping, you shakily make your way towards what you assume is the fireplace. It was dark, perfectly in line with the gothic theme that enveloped the entire building.

Above you hung a large portrait of two men, hauntingly beautiful, with pale, almost white skin and dark maroon eyes that seemed to pierce through you. Their jet-black hair framed their faces perfectly. They wore white blouses that you assume are from the Victorian era, adorned with very expensive jewellery. One man was slightly shorter than the other, but his looks would put any model to shame; his longer hair framed his face beautifully, making you think, "a fallen angel". The taller man had shorter hair and more sharper features, yet he appeared just as ethereal. His mesmerising eyes seemed to draw you in, almost as if they were sucking your soul. Another striking feature was their lips, a deep red, almost as rich as their eyes.

"Damn, if these guys are the vampires, then I wouldn't mind getting my blood sucked by them," you muse out loud.

"Oh really now?" A voice purred next to your ear. You whip your head around to see who it is, only to be greeted with nothing.

"W-Who was that?!" You shout, cursing under your breath as your voice comes out shakier than you'd like.

"I’m sure you already know who, bunny," a voice whispers from behind. You spin around, but there's only darkness.

"I-I know how to fight!" You yell, trying to sound confident.

"Ooh, a fighter. I like that," a deeper voice purrs, this time right next to you.

Suddenly, your phone is snatched from your hand, plunging you into complete darkness. Panicking, you throw punches into the air, hoping to hit something—anything—but you freeze when a hand catches your fist.

"She really is a fighter, Wonwoo," the first voice chuckles; even his laughter seems to have a surreal feel to it. You hear another low chuckle from behind, which you assume is Wonwoo.

Wonwoo then wraps his arms around your waist, plunges his nose into the crook of your neck, and takes a long whiff.

"You smell absolutely divine, doll," he moans; you can't help but shiver at his actions.

Suddenly, the room flickers to life with candlelight, making the already creepy mansion even more eerie. You can now see the man standing before you, and you gasp; it's the same man from the portrait, the one with the longer hair.

He gently uncurls your injured fist, running his tongue slowly along the wound, and lets out a moan. Your breath catches at the sight, and you can't help but shiver at his actions.

"She likes that, Jeonghan," chuckles Wonwoo. You blush at Wonwoo's words, embarrassed cause it's true.

"You want this just as bad, don't you, bunny?" Jeonghan purrs before licking another stripe up your palm, causing you to let out a soft whimper.

"Don't even try and deny it, doll; we can hear your heartbeat," whispers Wonwoo before licking the shell of your ear.

You gulp, your mouth dry as sandpaper, and your heartbeat thunders in your ears. Sure, you came into the woods hoping to encounter vampires, but now that they're standing right before you, you're unsure what to do. They're so alluring, their very presence making your head spin.

Wonwoo leans down, gently nipping at the skin of your neck, making your heart lurch. You can feel him smirk against your skin.

"It has been a while since we had a blood servant," he mumbles against your skin. Jeonghan hums, a small smirk painting his face.

"What do you say, bunny? Want to become our blood servant?" Jeonghan purrs.

You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water, completely at a loss for words. Yes? No? If you say yes, are you doomed to serve them until death? If you say no, will they kill you on the spot? Your mind races, spinning with uncertainty. Maybe coming out here wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Looks like our little bunny is unsure," snickers Jeonghan.

"How about we give you a taste, then?" Wonwoo whispers before sinking his teeth into your neck.

You gasp and freeze, paralysed by the sudden sharp prick. You brace yourself for intense pain, but instead, you're flooded with overwhelming pleasure. It feels as though every nerve in your body is igniting, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you. Your arousal soaks your panties, and you can already feel it sticking to your skin. You've never experienced anything like this before—nothing even close. You close your eyes, savouring the sensation as your head spins. It feels like you're floating.

"I can smell your arousal from here, bunny. Does it feel good?" Smirks Jeonghan, you can only whimper in response.

"Barely drunk from you, and you're already dripping," Wonwoo chuckles against your neck.

He spins you around to face him, and you instinctively lick your lips as you take him in. Deep maroon eyes with a piercing gaze, skin so pale it's almost white, making his blood-stained lips stand out even more. He looks at you with a smirk.

He cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours, letting you taste your own blood—metallic and tangy. You melt into the kiss, already addicted to the way his lips feel against yours. Desperate for more, you press up against Wonwoo and start grinding against him. You can feel Wonwoo smirk into the kiss; Jeonghan chuckles at your actions.

"If you become our blood servant, I can guarantee you pleasure beyond what you've ever felt, bunny," hums Jeonghan.

Pulling away from the kiss, you turn toward Jeonghan; your mind clouded with thoughts of them and nothing else. Any sense of reason is long gone. Without a second thought, you agree—you'd say yes to anything at this point.

"Good choice, bunny," smirks Jeonghan before effortlessly carrying you. You gasp and wrap your arms and legs around him.

He sinks his teeth into your neck and starts drinking your blood. You let out a moan at the euphoric feeling washing over your body. Maybe it's because you're already lightheaded from the first time, but this feels ten times more intense. It's as if you've died and gone to heaven, but what's happening is far from heavenly.

Your whole body trembles, and you feel like you have just had an orgasm. You whine out Jeonghan's name as you feel him squeeze your ass. He detaches his lips from your neck and runs his tongue over the bite mark; you shiver at his actions.

Panting, you glance down at the vampire. His pupils are blown wide, lips stained with blood, and a smirk curling on his face. You catch a glimpse of his sharp canines as he watches you.

"We're lucky to have caught such a pretty blood servant," smirks Wonwoo, causing Jeonghan to chuckle.

"Let's take care of the aching between your thighs," hums Jeonghan. "I bet you want to be filled up with our cocks, right bunny?"

"I bet she can take both of us at once," chuckles Wonwoo, causing you to clench around nothing.

"Let's find out, shall we?" Jeonghan smirks before heading toward what you assume is their bedroom.

And that's how, on Halloween night, you became a blood servant—bound to serve the two vampires for the rest of your life.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @tomodachiii @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @jennwonwoo

If your username is striked through it means I couldn't tag you! Make sure to turn off the visibility settings so that I can tag you!

[harrywavycurly]

It would be fun to see a moment in time when the Lonely couple were bffs but just a little too comfy with each other or maybe one of the times they kissed while besties?

Hiii lovey!! Ohh okay so I just combined these and gave you a little look at a moment between them when they were so comfortable they ended up smooching😂 I hope you enjoy!💖

-find all things Lonely here✨

TW: None

A/N: Harry comes over for coffee and cuddles during some time off during the One Direction days, enjoy some fluff and bickering between besties✨

“Are you saying you didn’t like them?” You question with a hint of annoyance in your voice as you look at your bestfriend who is currently standing in your kitchen licking the last bits of icing from a cinnamon roll off his thumb. “Because if that’s so then next time you make breakfast Mr. Baker.” You tease making him shoot you a glare as you get comfortable on the couch.

“Now that’s not what I said and you know it.” He tries to explain while he looks over at you as he puts his plate into the sink, you just let out a huff while tossing your throw blanket over yourself. “I just said that next time maybe you can try adding-”

“Telling me to add more icing next time is just your way of telling me you thought they were too dry.” Harry has to stop himself from rolling his eyes at you because he doesn’t even know how you got that from his simple suggestion but he also knows there’s a big possibility you’re just messing with him. He takes a moment to watch you wiggle yourself deeper into the pillowy cushion behind your back, your legs stretched out allowing your feet to rest on the ottoman you pulled over to your side of the couch and he feels a smile creep its way onto his face because you just look so cozy even when you’re fussing at him.

Harry had texted you late last night that he was going to be home for a few days instantly earning him an invitation to coffee and some cuddles to which he told you he would be there bright and early to take you up on your invitation. And while the other members of One Direction opted to spend their time off doing god knows what, Harry always made a point to make sure you were one of his first stops if not the first since you live decently close to where he stays in L.A. But one thing he knows about you is that when he’s gone for too long you seem to always be a bit more snarky and sassy with him the first few hours he’s back, so you making an argument out of this doesn’t shock him at all and he knows just the way to get you to stop talking about it.

“And now that I think about it I don’t even remember inviting you over for breakfast?” You point out as you look over at Harry who just rolls his eyes as he walks around your kitchen island and heads straight towards where you’re sitting on the couch. “I remember telling you to come over for coffee and cuddles but-” your words are caught in your throat as Harry leans over and places a hand on the side of your face before his lips are on yours in a quick kiss that leaves you with a light pout on your face when he pulls away.

"So what you're really saying is we need to get to the cuddling part yeah?" He asks with a teasing smile as his bright green eyes stare into yours. "Oh enough with this." You feel his thumb gently brush over your bottom lip. "Now are you done with all the dramatics or do you need me to-" this time Harry is the one who's sentence is cut short by the feeling of your lips on his in a quick kiss that makes his hand fall from your face when you pull away leaving him with red cheeks and slightly wide eyes.

"I'm not being dramatic Harry you're the one who called my cinnamon rolls dry." You ignore his scoff and what you take as almost a look of defeat when you bring up the cinnamon rolls again and that’s how you become aware that his kiss was a silly little attempt to get you to stop talking about it.

Harry kissing you isn’t something that’s new for the two of you, now you wouldn’t say it happens all the time but it has happened before and you’re sure it’ll happen again because when it comes to you, Harry isn’t afraid to be extremely handsy considering when you first met the two of you were fully ready to go to bed together but your poor choices in alcohol had other ideas in mind for that night. But normally you’re not the one initiating the kisses or the physical touches outside of hand holding and hugs, that’s all Harry and it’s usually because he can just sense when you need to be grabbed and pulled into his chest or when you need a firm squeeze of his hand that’s wrapped around yours. So you know the main reason for his slightly shocked and a bit annoyed expression is when he realizes his plan to kiss the idea of him calling your baked goods dry not only didn’t work but somehow got turned around on him so you had to be the one to kiss him to get him to stop talking.

"You can't just shut me up with a kiss that's a bit rude."

"Excuse me? That's exactly what you just did to me so sit down and cuddle me before I kick you out."

"That's because you keep saying I called your cinnamon rolls dry and I didn't. All I said was next time I'd use more icing," Harry sits down next to you and immediately the two of you get into your normal position, his arm is wraps around your shoulders and he's sat close enough to you that your thighs are touching allowing you to share your throw blanket with him as his feet rest on the ottoman. "I'm not sure how you think adding more icing to them would make them less dry? That doesn't even make sense." He mumbles as you rest your head on his shoulder while scrolling on Netflix for something to watch.

"Less dry? So you're saying the ones you ate today were dry?" You try to hide your playful teasing tone but you know Harry catches it by the way you feel a pinch to your side making you let out a squeal.

"I know you're only acting like this because you missed me." Harry acts like he doesn’t notice the small sigh that leaves you or how you lean even further into him as his words hit your ears, the two of you have been friends long enough to know it’s the truth so you don’t have to even try to argue with him about it. “I missed you too love.” He admits with a smile as he reaches over and grabs your hand so he can give it a squeeze.

“You love me don’t you?” You ask as you mindlessly begin to play with Harry’s fingers, he just chuckles at your question because of course he does you’ve been his bestfriend for years now and sometimes he truly doesn’t know how he survives away from you for so long but the texts and FaceTime calls make due when he can’t convince you to let him fly you out to a show or he can’t sneak off for a few days to visit.

“This feels like a set up for a favor of some sort.” You laugh as you lift your head so you can look up at him and when he looks down at you with a grin that shows off his dimples you have to fight the urge to kiss him again. “What do you want?” He asks with a smirk and you think for a moment he’s going to lean down and put his lips to yours but he just places them to your forehead for a brief moment before pulling away so he can look you in the eyes while he waits for you to ask for whatever it is you want.

“I left my coffee in the kitchen.” Harry lets out a dramatic groan as he unwraps himself from you and flings the throw blanket off his legs. “This is why you’re my favorite and I love you the most.” You shout as you watch him make his way into your kitchen to grab your coffee cup.

“Yeah yeah I love you too.”

[slamminslamminmcgill]

mm finally watched deadpool and wolverine today, and my god... 🥵 so many thoughts...

Idek which ones to put here. What do you think a p*ss kink would look like with both of them? Or just more of them making reader squirt their brains out.

The dialogue you write between them sounds so natural. Like I can literally read it in their voice. -🐮

LFGGGG thank y’all for giving me an excuse to talk abt this 🙏 i got more ideas but this post would’ve been WAYYYY too long sooo be on the lookout for more debauchery

warning: piss, anal, dp, dubcon, light degradation/humiliation, intox (alcohol for logan)

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy

as with most of the fucked up kinks y'all try in this polycule, it happens spontaneously the first time.

logan had just finished inside your ass, and out of the three of you, it takes him the longest to cum. it also takes a lot out of him. he roars and jams his claws through wade's temples (whoopsie! that's why your bed has red vinyl sheets hehe) so there's a dramatic break in the action afterwards.

"ah... hah... ngh, fuck..." he's panting, heaving almost, and slides out of your now gaping hole, "fuck, that was good..." he retracts his claws from wade’s skull, then purrs in your ear and smooches your neck, "good job, kid."

wade, still hard as steel in your cunt, claps excitedly for him. "yay! good job, YOU, peanut! UGH, i love watching you fill him up. you get so... beastly~."

you giggle, nuzzling into wade's tits, feeling goofy and content. a warm load up one hole, and a thick cock up the other.

logan smiles, kissing you on the back of your head this time. “you gonna be okay alone with him for a sec? i gotta go piss.”

"mhm!"

"'kay. i'll be right back, pumpkin." another kiss to your neck, and he's off, walking flaccidly to the bathroom, shaking his fuzzy cheeks.

you drop your head back down against wade’s chest and sigh, "i gotta piss too, actually."

"oh, yeah, yes you do, mister!" deadpool pats you on your shoulders, "always make sure to pee before, during, and after sex!"

you absentmindedly chuckle, until you realize what it is he just said, “wait… during?!"

"hey! thou shalt not knock what thou hast not tried!i know it sounds icky, but hear me out."

he thrusts upwards into you sharply

“fuck!!!”

“so! i want you to imagine…” *THRUST* “how good it’d feel…” *THRUST* “to be really filled up.” *THRUST* “and i mean FULL!” *THRUST* “like your pussy is a searing hot water balloon about to explode. and then when it does?” *THRUST* “when it all comes flooding out of you? oh darling, the relief…” he moans dramatically, gripping your hips and shifting you back and forth on his shaft, “hottest thing you’ll ever experience, i swear. there’s nothing else like it… wanna try it?”

you’re skeptical, but wade wilson is a hell of a salesman. “…fuck it. let’s do it.”

“yippee!!! okay, just gotta get soft so i can piss. dead kittens… calculus homework… grandma deadpool! there we go! okay… phew… here goes…”

it’s a tense, awkward silence as he starts. you’re not sure what to expect. then, you begin to feel it. that searing heat swelling inside you, pooling between his cock and your skin, flooding what little space there was inside you. you gasp, and attempt to squirm to cope with the sensation, but wade holds you still.

“don’t move! don’t move, my little urinal boy! mmm, i gotcha, just… just trust me on this… i’m almost done…”

“you two are fucking disgusting.”

logan’s voice coming out of nowhere makes you jump, and then wade’s piss spills out of you. and just like he told you, it feels fucking incredible. you’re twitching, spasming, moaning pure nonsense as wade fucks your drenched, desecrated cunt. loud splashing accompanies the brutal pace of his hips.

“your loss, peanut! imagine wasting your piss on the bathroom toilet when you could’ve given it to this even cuter toilet!” he pecks you on the cheek with a loud “mwah~!”

from then on, it becomes you and wade peeing on each other just to mess with him. since he’s never told y’all to stop, you both figure that he likes it, but he’s too embarrassed to admit it.

the three of y’all are showering together

“so, just asking as a throuple here, are we all pro- or anti-peeing in the shower?”

“if you get piss on me, i’ll stick my claws through your fucking corneas.”

“promise?!”

”don’t. you fucking. dare.”

“aw, boo, you’re no fun.” wade pouts, then grabs you by your wet hair and pulls your ear towards his lips. “you, though… you’re TONS of fun.” he playfully bites your ear, and then your neck. “so fun, in fact, that you’re gonna get on your knees and drink every drop of piss that i give you, right?”

i feel like the only time y’all can get logan to participate is while he’s drunk. he’s too sloshed to feel shame for it.

maybe y’all are in bed together, all cuddled up in a tangled mess of limbs, and he grumbles something about needing to take a leak.

“oh, don’t worry about getting up, honey-bun!” wade fishes under the blankets for logan’s soft cock, “lemme take care of that for you.”

“wh… the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“ugh please, don’t act like you haven’t thought about pissing down my throat. can’t i just once do something nice for you?”

he grumbles, not wanting to indulge wade, but not wanting to get up even more.“fine. whatever. i hope you choke on it.”

“oh, i will.”

[lovesickonmybed]

to hands between legs | 18+

masterlist | xo masterlist | info about palestine | donate to gaza

pairing | bully!ellie williams x loser!virgin!reader

synopsis | ellie williams made your high school experience a living hell, but once you got to college you thought you were finally free…until running into her at a frat party where she humiliates you just like it’s high school all over again.

warnings | 18+ MDNI! bullying, wedgies, dub-con, underage drinking, panty kink, degradation, humiliation, fingering, virgin reader, mommy kink.

word count | 4.4k

a/n | if wedgie kinks make you uncomfortable or seem cringe to you then please keep scrolling and let me indulge in my weird little kinks thank you! also i dropped out of college so if any of this is inaccurate i'm sorry!! i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.

“Dude you are not wearing those to the party tonight!” Your roommate Seline scoffs looking you up and down as you stand in your underwear looking through your clothes in an attempt to find something semi-decent for your first party of the year. You’ve got on a plain white bra and a pair of white hanes panties that sit high up on your waist. 

You turn back to look at her with an annoyed sneer on your face, “They’re called underwear for a reason, they’ll be under my clothes, where no one can see them. I doubt it’ll make a difference, I’m not exactly trying to get laid tonight, especially not by any of those guys.”

“Wearing granny panties at any time besides your time of the month is just…wrong! There’s no way those are comfortable, like seriously I see you pick your wedgie like 20 times a day, just grow up and switch to thongs already.” Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment and you slip on a black skort that stops at your mid thigh before turning back to face your roommate. 

“I do not pick that many wedgies, stop being so dramatic! A thong would just be worse, I don’t want a string up my ass all day…” You retort.

“So instead of a string you want that itchy fabric to bunch up and give you a cottontail? Got it…this is why you haven’t gotten laid yet…” Seline says, side eyeing you.

“I really don’t need this right now, I’m wearing my comfortable and reliable panties and you can have fun telling a frat guy to stop pulling on your thong strings when he’s had too much to drink.”

“My thong is getting taken off by a frat guy tonight, not pulled up, honey. Now hurry up and get dressed so we can go, maybe if you pick the right top someone can look past your choice in underwear,” Seline chuckles.

You roll your eyes playfully and decide on a cropped white tank top, you slip on a pair of black heeled boots and a light wash denim jacket to finish off the look. You want to look alright just in case, you haven’t had the best luck romantically and definitely not sexually since arriving at school. You’ve made out with a few girls at parties but due to your own nerves you haven’t done anything past feeling them up and trying to not cum immediately when their hand is on your thigh. You swear you got more action from your high school bully…

“Come on, if you make me even later than we already are then I’m gonna lose it!” Your roommate commands as you grab your bag from off your bed. You’re not exactly the party type and you sure as hell weren’t in high school, then again you never got a chance to go to parties in high school thanks to Ellie fucking Williams for making you a pariah. You still have no clue what you did to the girl for her to target you as viciously as you did, you barely knew her…maybe she wanted to establish dominance when she arrived in Jackson, sure being the new kid can be tough but it doesn’t exactly call for you to make someone miserable everyday of their life. It started with a shoulder check in the hallway and escalated to you having to budget out having to replace panties on an almost weekly basis due to the waistband ripping wedgies Ellie loved to dish out. 

College was a fresh start for you, a way to escape your past as ‘Wedgie Girl’ and to finally make some friends…but thanks to your busy class schedule and your social awkwardness it’s proven harder than you expected. Your roommate Seline was kind enough to introduce you to some of her friends and you’re pleading with whatever forces are out in the universe that some of them will be there tonight to hang with you when your roommate abandons you for some dick from a sweet, but ultimately brainless frat boy. 

“Do you know if anyone we know is gonna be at the party?” You ask Seline, nervously playing with the hem of your skirt as you both walk the path to the nearby frat house. 

“Uh, I think Taylor mentioned she might be there…I’m not sure when though. But hey, if she’s not I’m sure you’ll find someone to spend your night with if I disappear,” She smiles, nudging your arm with her shoulder playfully. 

“More like when you disappear…”

“Hey! I don’t always disappear!” Seline scoffs.

“If there’s dick from a himbo you do,” you retort.

“Can you blame me? They’re always the sweetest in and out of bed, I can’t help that I like a dumb guy who will actually take care of me after we fuck instead of some asshole who’ll just take my panties after!” On multiple occasions freshman year Seline had some of her favorite pairs stolen by business majors, it was truly unfortunate. 

“Dude I swear to god I’m on a mission to get your panties back tonight, you know I love stealing shit from frat guys. I’m gonna steal your panties back,” you joke to Seline.

“I don’t want them back, they’re probably crusted with cum by now!” Seline laughs.

“Oh my god! Why would you put that image in my head, jesus christ!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Seline is out of breath as she apologizes. 

You reach the lawn of the frat house and you and Seline look at one another.

“If you plan to hookup with someone and stay at their place, text me and share your location, deal?” You say to Seline, making sure to establish a plan for tonight.

“Deal. Same goes for you, babe,” she smirks.

“We both know I won’t be hooking up with anyone but the optimism is appreciated, Seline.”

Seline laughs and throws her arm around your waist as you walk into the party, music playing loudly, the house filled with college students with drinks in their hands. 

You comb the crowd to look for anyone you may recognize but you’re unsuccessful, you frown and pull yourself closer to Seline for comfort. You cup her ear, “I don’t see Taylor yet.” 

“Let me text her and see when she’ll be here,” Seline responds as she pulls out her phone and pulls up Taylor’s contact, she shoots her a text and while she waits on a response y’all go into the kitchen to find something to drink. 

You separate from Seline and look around at all your options, you decide to just grab a Whiteclaw, ignoring how douchey it makes you feel to be seen drinking one. You crack it open and take a sip as Seline pours herself a shot. You lean against the counter as people come up to greet Seline, you feel out of place at this party but you try to ignore the feeling and take another sip.

“Hey, is it okay if I go with them?” Seline motions to the two girls standing where she just was, “I don’t want to leave you alone but we’ve been meaning to catch up for awhile y’know?”

You sigh and bite the inside of your cheek, “Yeah…it’s okay. Go catch up,” you give her a fake smile and in response she gives you a real one.

“I appreciate it, I’m sorry. If you need anything just text me, okay?” 

“Got it. Go have fun for me,” you smile.

Seline gives you a quick hug and turns to the other girls, walking off to the backyard together.

You stay where you are in the kitchen, bobbing your head to the music and mostly aimlessly scrolling on your phone when people watching gets boring. You’re broken out of your trance by a familiar laugh, “Holy shit…you actually made it out of Jackson? I’m shocked, truly.” Even if you hadn’t looked up you’d know exactly who was talking to you. Standing in front of you, a beer in hand, is Ellie Williams. 

You gasp softly and take a long swig from your drink, “I-You-”

“I didn’t know you went here, how’d you even get in?” Ellie asks, taking a step towards you. You can smell the woodsy cologne that’s been her signature scent since high school, she’s wearing a dark green flannel over a black tank top and a pair of black jeans. 

“I-I’m smart…I guess…” You manage to say. You regret it instantly, face heating up when you realize how stupid you sound. 

“Mhm, yeah of course…” She steps closer to you, setting her hand next to your hip on your counter, trapping you slightly as she gets in your personal space, “You know,” she chuckles, “Your roommate is a real dick for letting you leave the dorm like this…”

“What? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You ask, instantly regressing back to the insecure high schooler you were just two years ago.

Ellie smirks, wetting her lips with her tongue, “Nothing, I’m just fucking with you, loser. You’re just as easy to mess with as you were in highschool…” 

You look down, avoiding eye contact, and shrink into yourself, “Why…why are you doing this? We’re not in highschool anymore, Ellie. I mean…who even bullies people in college?”

Ellie doesn’t appreciate your attempt to stand up for yourself, “Someone who sees a loser in desperate need of help…you still wear granny panties?” She bites her lip as she watches your face contort into an embarrassed look.

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about…” You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to self soothe. 

Ellie pauses for a minute, turning around to scope out the house. She grabs your wrist and starts to pull you along with her.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” You yell, trying to tug your wrist out of her grip, it’s a futile attempt as she’s always been much stronger than you. 

“Shut up,” Ellie commands, continuing to pull you along with her to the upstairs of the house. The partygoers hanging out on the staircase pay you no mind, continuing their conversations without a care in the world. Ellie pulls you down a hallway, opening one of the doors and pushing you inside, causing you to fall to your knees. Ellie locks the door as you scramble to your feet, mostly out of fear of what substances could be on this carpet.

Ellie turns around to face you, “Take your skirt off.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What?”

“Are you stupid? Take your goddamn skirt off,” Ellie sneers.

“What? Why? I-I’m not taking off my skirt for you! And I’m not wearing granny panties!” 

“Then lift up your skirt and prove it. You’ve got a little cottontail poking out of the back of your skirt by the way…nice hanes,” She laughs and pushes you back, causing you to stumble.

“You’re a sadistic bitch!” You exclaim, backing up away from her.

Ellie walks towards you, backing you against a wall, “I think you meant sexy, but that’s alright sweetheart I still understand you.” Ellie grabs you by your shoulders and spins you around, using her arm to pin you against the wall, your face feeling squished against the plaster. She grabs the bottom of your skirt and pulls it up, groaning in disappointment when she realizes you’re wearing a skort. “Fuckin prude,” she mutters before grabbing the waistband of your skort and yanking it down, exposing your white hanes to her.

“Hey! What the fuc-” 

Ellie cuts you off, “Sorry did I tell you to speak?”

“N-No but-”

Ellie cuts you off again by grabbing you by the back of your head and shoving your face even harder against the wall, causing you to whine in pain. “You speak when I tell you to speak, until then shut your goddamn mouth before I gag you.” Ellie slaps your ass and chuckles when you yelp. “Do you still want to stand here and deny that this borderline geriatric pair of panties are granny panties? Huh? I mean, this sure as shit ain’t a thong, but if you’re really so deep in denial I guess I could be generous and turn it into one for you, honey.”

Before you can even think about protesting Ellie grabs your waistband and pulls it up teasingly slow, your eyes go wide as you’re transported back to highschool by the feeling of the cotton fabric sliding against your skin and situating itself between your cheeks. As the fabric begins to sink into your folds you’re transported back to a memory of Ellie giving you a wedgie in the locker room during senior year.

“Shut up and take it, loser! It’s your fault for pissing me off today!” Ellie whisper-yelled as she pulled the front of your panties violently, tears welled up in your eyes as the baby pink fabric was forced into the folds of your cunt.

“Stop! Come on, you really don’t have to do thi-”

Ellie cuts you off with another harsh tug of your panties, your mouth falls open as a sharp pain shoots up your ass. You try to reach back and tug your waistband away from Ellie but she’s quick to pin your wrists against your back, using her body weight to help pin you against the wall. “Don’t you fucking dare! You’re so goddamn defiant, I miss the helpless loser you were in highschool, this was so much easier back then. You knew how to shut up and take it.”

Ellie shoves her leg between your thighs and lets go of your waistband, she uses her now free hand to remove her belt and restrain your wrists with it. “There. Now you have no choice but to take it,” she laughs. You try to squirm out of her grasp but with her thigh pressed against your cunt all it does is make your face heat up and make you hold back a moan of pleasure. Ellie continues to hold you against the wall as she grabs your waistband again, “Ready for me, wedgie girl?” Ellie smirks as she starts to pull your waistband again, pulling harder than before, almost lifting you off the ground with her first pull.

You choke on nothing as she uses your old nickname, feeling you with even more shame as your brain floods with countless memories of your public humiliation at her hands. Your eyes screw shut as you feel the threads snapping against your skin, the painful friction against your most sensitive parts sends pained moans from your lips. 

“P-Please…h-hurts so bad,” you whimper, tears forming in your eyes as you rest your forehead against the wall.

“It’s supposed to, dumbass. I bet you like it though, don’t you? It’s the most attention your little virgin cunt has ever gotten, huh?” Ellie snickers. 

“I-I’m not a virgin!” You reply.

“Bullshit. I doubt you’ve even had an orgasm…poor thing, bet your poor little pussy just leaks from the slightest attention…I could breathe on it and you’d cum. It’s a miracle you haven’t cum yet, I’m pratically fucking you with these,” Ellie pulls harder, getting you onto your toes to emphasize her point. Ellie giggles, “You know what, you’re not a virgin I’ve already fucked you with your panties.”

You mewl with embarrassment which sends Ellie into a fit of laughter, once she calms herself she lets go of your waistband. You sigh in relief as you think she’ll let you go but once you feel her grasp on your leg holes your eyes go wide. You’re not getting off that easy. 

“You know what, let me rip these and I’ll give you a pity orgasm, how does that sound, loser?”

“No, come on! Ellie don’t rip these!” You plead.

“Oh come on, nerd. I’ve already stretched them out, they’re unwearable, just let me have my fun,” Ellie begins to lift you by the leg holes of your panties. You cry out in pain, your legs kicking out of instinct as you feel the fabric of your panties pulled back and through your cunt, the fabric scraping against your cunt in such a way that causes you to begin to cry.

“Can’t believe you’re already crying, you went fucking soft on me, nerd. Guess I gotta do this everyday and build your tolerance back up,” she says in a patronizing tone. 

“No, no, no, please…Ellie…” Your breath is ragged as she continues to split your ass with your panties, showing no mercy as she bounces you, the sound of threads ripping fills the room.

“Oh come on, baby, you can take it. Don’t tap out now, you’re so close,” Ellie coos, snaking one of her hands around to grab the front of your panties and begins pulling from the front too. You scream in pain and she lets go and begins to scold you, “Shut the fuck up! Are you trying to get caught? You want everyone to see you getting fucked with your panties?” 

You sniffle, “N-No…”

“Then shut. the. fuck. up. and take it. Got it, slut?” She questions.

“Got it…”

Ellie resumes and you bite your lip to hold back your pained noises as she bounces you by the front and back of your panties, making you feel like you’re being split in half. You can’t remember the last time you were in this much pain and you hate how soaked it gets you, a wide wet patch is very visible in the gusset of your panties. It doesn’t take many more pulls for the panties to finally rip, you moan loudly in pain and pleasure as you feel the fabric rip against your cunt. Ellie is quick to grab you by your waist, old hand holding the ripped pair of panties as she helps you to the floor. You sit against the wall and catch your breath, looking up at Ellie completely wrecked. Your mascara is smudged beneath your eyes and you have red marks on your hips. 

Ellie squats down to your level, “You okay?” She asks softly, reaching towards you to trace the marks on your hips. Her gentleness confuses you, when she bullied you in high school she would’ve just let you fall to the floor and leave you to deal with the aftermath.

“I-I think so…” You mumble.

She reaches up and cups your cheek, “Can I finger you?” She looks down at your red puffy cunt, licking her lips as she imagines you mewling for her as she stuffs your cunt. 

“I…No one has ever…y’know…touched me like that before…” You explain shamefully.

“I wanna make you cum, loser. Wanna feel your cunt clench around my fingers.”

You look up at Ellie with glassy eyes, whining at the thought, “Why?”

Ellie looks down, her cheeks turning red, “Because I think you’re hot…and I’ve been wanting this for years…”

“You have?” You ask, brows furrowed as you scan her face for any hint of a lie.

“Yeah…I…I like how you sound when I torture your pretty pussy, wanna make it feel good this time, wanna reward you for how you took that wedgie.”

You think it over for a minute before you nod, “I want your fingers inside of me, please.”

“You want it on the bed, baby girl?” She asks, nodding her head towards the bed of whatever poor boys room you two have only just begun to desecrate. 

“Yeah. Can you untie me too please,” you ask softly, lifting your restrained hands behind your back.

“Oh shit, I forgot I even did that. Let me get that off you,” Ellie helps turn you around and removes the belt restraining your hands and slips it back onto her jeans. She takes your wrists in her hands to check for marks, “They should only be a little sore…I’d wear long sleeves till the marks go away unless you feel like coming up with a story about how they got like that.”

You nod and let her help you onto the bed, you wince in pain as you sit on the bed, the soreness in your ass already kicking in.

Ellie tilts her head and leans towards you, looking down at your lips, “Can I kiss you?”

You nod, wetting your lips with your tongue. She leans in and presses her lips to yours, kissing you softer than you could’ve ever imagined from her. There’s a masochistic part of you that had always had a crush on Ellie, you had dreams of her fingering you, eating you out, hell even taking you on dates. But you had never imagined she’d really kiss you, especially not like this. You kiss her back and are quick to deepen the kiss, Ellie smirks against your lips at your eagerness and pulls you into her lap, spreading your legs and cupping your cunt. She uses you gasping at the sudden contact to slip her tongue into your mouth and you moan into her mouth once she starts to massage your clit. Your body feels like it’s on fire and you beg the universe to not let you cum before she can even get her fingers inside of you. 

She pulls away from your lips, a trail of saliva still connecting them as she moves her mouth down to your neck. She presses a kiss below your ear and whispers, “Gonna take off your shirt baby, wanna suck those pretty tits.”

That alone is enough to make you grip her hair tightly and whine. You help her remove your shirt and she’s quick to remove your bra as well, beginning to trail kisses down your neck. “You’re so fucking pretty, got perfect tits…for a loser…” She snickers. 

This time it doesn’t feel malicious, it makes your clit twitch and your breath hitch. 

“You like when I’m mean to you, don’t you? Bet you’d go home after school everyday and play with that pretty pussy of yours and think about what I did to you…Bet it got you wet once I got everyone calling you wedgie girl…” Ellie smirks at you, admiring the embarrassed expression on your face.

“Shut up…” You giggle.

She smiles and starts to leave hickeys on your neck and collarbones, drawing whines and whimpers out of you with ease. She pulls back to admire her work, “I’d suggest you invest in a turtleneck, sweetheart,” she chuckles.

“Shit…what’s my roommate gonna say?” You mutter, brushing your hair out of your face as you try and think of an excuse to give Seline.

“Are you with her or something?” Ellie asks.

You shake your head no, “God no…she just knows I haven’t done anything like this before…never came back to our dorm with a hickey before either.”

“You’re so innocent it’s fucking adorable,” Ellie says, leaning forward and kissing you again. She pulls away and leans down to press kisses to your tits, nibbling slightly here and there, making you whine once she takes one of your nipples into her mouth, tweaking the other with her hand. “Fuck…Ellie…” you whine, tilting your head back as she worships your tits.

She trails a hand down to your cunt, slapping it lightly, making you yelp. She laughs softly and presses her ring and middle finger against your folds, swiping up some of your slick and bringing her fingers up to her mouth to taste you. She takes her fingers into her mouth and sucks your slick off, moaning at the taste, “You taste as good as you look, sweet girl.”

She leans forward to kiss you and slowly slips two fingers inside of you, you gasp against her lips and buck your hips forward. “Oh fuck…”

“I haven’t even started baby,” she laughs. She begins to pump her fingers in and out of your cunt, whispering praises to you as she brushes her thumb against your cunt. She bites her lip as you whine her name, reaching out to grip the bed sheets. “You’re so tight, bet you’ve been needing this huh…”

“Y-Yes mommy, needed it so bad,” you mumble, too engrossed in your own pleasure to truly realize the words leaving your lips. 

Ellie stops and tilts her head, looking at you with her jaw dropped, “Did you…did you just call me mommy?”

“Fuck…I-I’m so sorry, it just sli-” Ellie cuts you off by resuming her pace, speeding up her movements quickly to make you fall apart.

“Tell mommy how fucking good it feels,” Ellie commands. 

You’re quick to follow her orders, muttering pathetically about how good she’s making you feel. “Mommy…I fucking…I’m so close, need to…”

“Need to cum, don’t you pretty girl? Gonna make you cum, gonna make my pretty baby make a mess all over my lap.” Ellie curves her fingers inside you, hitting right where you need until it sends you over the edge. You let out a string of moans as you collapse forward onto Ellie, burying your face in her neck and you moan incoherently. Ellie works you through your orgasm, rubbing your back whispering praises as you come down. She sucks your juices off her fingers, continuing to rub your back and praise you as you catch your breath.

“Fuck…thank you…” You whisper, your head still buried in the crook of her neck.

Ellie smiles and pulls you close to her, “Anytime, loser.”

You roll your eyes and giggle, the word no longer feels hurtful but instead playful. Ellie pulls you off her lap and grabs your ripped panties off the floor, using them to clean you up. “These are coming home with me,” Ellie says, holding the ripped fabric up in front of your face.

You try to snatch them away from her but she’s quicker than you, stuffing them in her back pocket. “Nuh uh, these are mine now, loser. Need something to help me get off when I think about this again.”

She helps you redress and tries to help fix your hair and smudged makeup, it’s all futile thanks to the hickeys she decorated your neck and collarbones with. “You know it’s pretty dark out there, I doubt anyone will notice,” Ellie says, motioning to your hickeys.

You roll your eyes and give her a look that says ‘really?’ “Ellie, these are impossible to miss, my roommate is never gonna let me live it down.”

“I can’t help that I’m so good at humiliating you,” Ellie giggles, wrapping her arms around your waist, nuzzling her face into your neck.

“Shut up and take me back to my dorm,” you say playfully, nudging her with your head.

“Round two?” She asks hopefully.

“I’ll consider it…”

[james-bucky-barnackle]

Froyo

Synopsis: During a premiere red carpet with Drew, an interviewer’s question accidentally reveals that a seemingly ordinary dinner was actually Drew’s attempt at a first date covered by two random tiktoks. Pairing: Drew Starkey x Actress!Reader Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count A/N: I know I still owe you guys a Gwayne Hightower fanfic, but the chokehold Drew fucking Starkey has on me is insane. btw, I realized this is the second time I've created a fic based on real people vs the normal Marvel character thingy I do. And to be honest, there's gonna be a lot more... so maybe I should make this a series considering they're all triggered by an interview and Y/N's always an actress lol. ALSO at the end, there's a poll on what you think should happen next, and best believe I'll do my best to write that.

There’s an edit circulating on TikTok of you and your co-star Drew Starkey from your red carpet interview together. You’re both starring in an Amazon limited series about college classmates who become close after witnessing your professor’s murder and are now on a shared mission to solve the crime. You’ve known him closely for a year now, but have been following his career even before that. I mean, who wouldn’t? The man is gorgeous. But of course, you couldn’t let him know that.

As shooting began, the two of you grew closer, and you decided to be professional and put that whole fascination aside. You’ve both even dated other actors and celebrities, which have also been topics for gossip channels and paparazzi photos. Despite all that, you’ve hung out plenty, mostly in groups but also during breaks in filming—often grabbing lunch and coffee together.

Today, you and Drew are laughing as you finally see the edit that’s been at the top of both your PR’s nightmare list.

You’re dressed in an elegant beige gown, skin-tight and slightly sheer, which Carrie Bradshaw would definitely call the naked dress. Your hair is pulled back in a low bun, bangs effortlessly framing your face. You’ve just arrived at the red carpet, taking your time to chat with interviewers. The first few questions are light, mostly about how fun it was working on set and, of course, what you're wearing.

After a few minutes, Drew catches up to you. He’s in a baby blue suit, sepia shades covering his eyes, smelling incredible. His presence is like a tight, warm hug—well, a little tighter on your chest. His voice sends tingles down your spine as he whispers, one hand casually placed on the small of your back.

“What did I miss?” He smiles at you and the interviewer.

“Oh, nothing much, I was just telling Amelia how you’re always late to everything.” You smirk, shooting a playful look at the camera. Amelia, your interviewer, raises her eyebrows dramatically, playing along. Both of you laugh as Drew backs away, feigning offense.

“I’ve been here since like—” He starts to defend himself.

“Like five minutes ago,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Valid,” he agrees with a shrug, laughing.

Amelia continues her interview, moving on to ask about the possibility of a second season.

“I mean, yeah, I’d love to do a second season, for sure,” you nod, glancing at Drew, who’s nodding along, letting you take the lead. “But I’m not sure if it makes sense, since it was originally written as a one-season story. For that to happen, someone might have to die again so Kelsea and James can investigate something new.”

Kelsea and James are the names of the characters you play—who, of course, end up dating on the show.

“So you’re saying someone has to die for the two of you to get back together on set?” Amelia jokes, her deadpan delivery only making it funnier.

“I mean, I don’t know!” You laugh. “You’re twisting my words, Amelia!”

“I honestly think you just don’t want to hang out with me anymore, Y/N,” Drew chimes in, a playful pout on his face. “I’m hurt.”

“Is that why there wasn’t a second date?” Amelia asks, teasingly. Her tone is light, but the question lands hard. Drew’s eyes widen in surprise, his smile freezing as if even he didn’t see that one coming. He covers his mouth, trying not to laugh while you stand there, looking utterly confused.

“Second date? What?” You laugh, trying to figure out if this is some sort of red carpet joke you weren’t briefed on. You glance at Drew, who’s just shaking his head, still grinning but not offering any explanations.

You lower your voice, leaning towards him, “What is she—what date?” You chuckle awkwardly, trying to maintain your cool, though the confusion is clearly written all over your face. Drew glances at Amelia, then back at you, and you can tell he feels a little bad now.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of awkward silence, Drew admits, “When we got dinner and froyo.” He says it so nonchalantly that it takes you a second to process.

“That was a date?!” you whisper-yell, smacking his arm, your jaw practically hitting the floor. “You said it was just dinner!”

“I know!” Drew laughs, his cheeks turning a little pink. “I said that because I thought you didn’t like me back! I was sending out signals!”

“What signals?” you ask, still reeling from the shock. “That’s unfair, you said it was just dinner! I feel so bad—I didn’t know!” You place your hand on his arm, squeezing it apologetically. You’re both laughing now, but you’re also genuinely flustered.

“I did tell you!” Drew protests. “I said, ‘Do you want to have dinner with me?’ And you were like, ‘Are we bringing Madz along?’ And when I said no, you were like, ‘Why?’”

“That is not enough, Drew!” You laugh, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Your PR team is probably dying, but at least this little moment might boost some publicity for the show. You actually remember the video Amelia might be referring to; your assistant had sent it to you a few months back. You found it interesting and even funny because you honestly thought it was just a fan shipping the two of you together—cutting together videos and photos of you and Drew when you were out to eat. You try to recall what that day was like and pick apart whatever signals Drew was referring to, but you really can’t remember anything different from the way he’s interacted with you since you two first met.

You realize the gag has gone on long enough and decide to wrap it up before the awkwardness can escalate further.

“Amelia, I’m so sorry about this,” you say with a dramatic sigh, trying to regain your composure. “Even while confessing his undying love for me, he’s still late. Men, what can you do?”

Drew, still chuckling, wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his way of apologizing. You feel a warmth settle over you, even as your mind is still catching up to everything.

The camera flashes pop around you, and suddenly, those TikTok edits of you looking perpetually confused start to make a little more sense.

When the premiere starts, halfway through the screening, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You check your makeup, but instead of heading straight back to the theater, you decide to take a moment. The whole "date reveal" situation has thrown you off more than you realized, and you need a second to process it. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, replaying the interview in your head. You haven't had the chance to talk to Drew about it since, and the thought lingers in the back of your mind. You don’t want another clueless moment to make it into the tabloids.

You wash your hands, fix your makeup, and prepare to head back out. But as you step through the door, you see Drew standing there, waiting.

“Well, look who it is—the jokester,” you say, crossing your arms with a mock grin. “Here to ask me out on another one-sided date?”

Drew smirks, stepping closer. “Huh? What are you talking about? I’m just here to pee,” he teases, nudging your shoulder.

“Not funny,” you mutter, rolling your eyes but feeling a smile tug at the corner of your mouth.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” His smile softens, and for the first time since the red carpet, you can tell he actually feels a little guilty. “I really am.”

“You should be!” You huff, but your tone is playful now, your annoyance melting away as you meet his eyes. "That was so long ago."

Drew takes a step closer, and you suddenly become very aware of the quietness around you. It’s just the two of you now, the noise of the premiere distant, almost forgotten. His gaze flickers to your lips for just a second, and your heart skips a beat.

“Y/N…” He hesitates, like he’s trying to find the right words. “About that second date…”

“You mean actual first date?” you correct him, raising an eyebrow, trying to keep your cool.

Drew pauses, then chuckles softly. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Actual first date. What do you think?”

You stare at him, caught off guard. You weren’t expecting him to just put it out there like that. His easygoing nature usually means he hides behind jokes or avoids direct confrontation. But now, with no cameras, no noise—just you and him—he’s being sincere.

“You know,” you say, your voice quieter now, “if you made it clear the first time, I still would’ve said yes.”

Drew’s eyes widen slightly, and a smile slowly spreads across his face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. “Really.”

His grin widens, and there’s something boyishly excited about it, like you’ve just given him the best news of the day. “No froyo this time, I promise.”

“Good,” you laugh. “Because that wasn’t a date.”

“Duly noted.” He steps closer, his hand brushing yours, and this time it doesn’t feel accidental. His fingers curl around yours lightly, the touch sending a spark through you.

“You know, we could leave early,” he suggests, glancing back towards the theater. “Skip the rest of the screening, maybe grab some dinner… somewhere where I make it clear it’s a date.”

You bite your lip, considering it, but your eyes narrow playfully. “And deal with the wrath of our PR teams later? You must love living dangerously.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You make a good point. But I promise, after all the photos, after all the interviews... we’ll do this right.”

You nod, smiling at him. “I’ll hold you to that.”

With that, you both walk back into the theater. His hand lingers on yours for a moment longer before he finally lets go, and even as you take your seats for the rest of the screening, the air between you has changed.

You glance at him once more, feeling that familiar warmth return, only this time, it’s not confusing or awkward.

The noise of the film dims around you, though you’re still hyper-aware of the room, the hundreds of eyes on the screen, and the occasional flash from the press in the back. Drew leans back in his seat, arms crossed loosely, but he’s not watching the movie either. Instead, he looks over at you, catching your eye.

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you quickly face forward, pretending to focus on the movie. But then, from the corner of your vision, you feel him move slightly closer. The tension that was always there, that you’d pushed aside so many times, is undeniable now.

After the premiere ends, there’s the usual round of applause and the hum of people slowly rising to leave. Drew stands up first, offering you his hand, and even though you can stand up just fine on your own, you take it. There’s something about that gesture that feels significant—like you’ve crossed a line you didn’t realize you were approaching until now.

You’re both still in work mode, nodding and smiling at the industry people you pass, but the moment you’re outside, the cool night air hitting your face, Drew turns to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Alright,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “How do you feel about grabbing that dinner tonight?”

You blink, caught off guard by how fast he’s moving. “Tonight? We just got out of the premiere,” you laugh, though there’s excitement bubbling under the surface. “I know, but if I wait any longer, who knows what crazy schedules we’ll get caught up in again.” He steps closer, his smile genuine, warm. “I’ve waited this long to actually do it right. What’s a few more hours?"

“Alright,” you say, a grin breaking through. “Let’s do it. Dinner—our actual first date.”

His eyes light up. “Great. I know a place.”

The restaurant Drew takes you to is tucked away, quiet and intimate, and you laugh at how quaint it is, most of the other diners are old enough to be your grandparents. You feel comfort knowing most of them don't have phones let alone know who the both of you are. For all they care, you could be two kids coming home from a costume party just ending the night with a bite.

“So,” you say as you both sit down, menus in hand but neither of you really looking at them. “This is what a proper date feels like, huh?”

Drew leans back in his chair, grinning. “Better than froyo, right?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Significantly better.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, the kind where you both just look at each other and realize this is happening—really happening. You’re on a date with Drew, and it’s not some PR stunt or a casual hangout. It’s real. And for the first time, you’re letting yourself want it. "You think they're wondering why we're over dressed?" You hide behind a menu. "Overdressed? Excuse me? This is what I wear everyday." Drew retorts, making you chortle.

“So,” you say, resting your chin on your hand, “What’s the plan after this? Froyo?”

Drew chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

He grins, eyes glinting with that same playful energy you’ve always liked. “Well, I’ll make sure tonight’s memorable enough that it overshadows that.”

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